Wintertijd

This just warms my heart...

Kid Creole and The Coconuts

Guess who wrote The Sex of It:

U say U want simplicity
U don't like love complex
I got a spooky feeling
U just want me 4 the sex

The thrills of it
The chills of it
The spills of it
U just want me 4 the sex
The sex of it
The sex of it

I gave U a diamond ring my friend
That didn't get U off
French cologne a hundred bucks an ounce (Ooh)
All U did was cough
U say U want simplicity
U don't like love complex
But I got a spooky feeling
U just want me 4 the sex

The thrills of it
The chills of it
The spills of it
Baby, baby, U just want me 4 the sex
Just want me 4 the sex
The sex of it
The sex of it

Don't open that window
I told U not 2 open that window!

The sex of it
The sex of it

How can I make U understand that's all I wanna do?
Damn my life, I'd rather spend it all with U
I couldn't love U anymore, I guess I'll hate U next
Confess U bitch! You just want me for the sex.

The thrills of it
The chills of it
The spills of it
U just want me 4 the sex

The sex of it
The sex of it

Get away from that cage
The sex of it
Get away from the…
Oh girl

10 Reasons Why "The King Of Pop" Can Kiss My Ass

Recently there's been a big hubbub about the death of Michael Jackson. I'm 3 weeks behind the facts here, as we're mourning the death of the coverage of the death of Michael Jackson. The thing that struck me though is that as soon as he bought the farm, the whole world all of a sudden seemed to love him, and hailed him as the Biggest Thing Since Sliced Bread (TM). I've seen people cry over that dude that must not have listened to a single song of his in the last 24 years.

Now I don't have issues with Michael Jackson. His life was kinda tragic, and his death is not what I wished upon him. However, in the 70's he did some fairly generic but high quality Motown stuff and in the 80's he released two very good albums (Off the Wall and Thriller), mainly thanks to Quincy Jones' involvement. After that he slipped into a dreary kind of mediocrity that seemed to be fueled by eccentricity, and in the last 15 years he hadn't released a single thing worth listening to.

It's in light of that I find the fact that he proclaimed himself "The King of Pop" a little bit offensive, because I can come up with many contemporaries of his that are decidedly more talented. This is why I'm presenting you with 10 reasons why "The King of Pop" can indeed kiss my ass:

01 - We Can Work It Out
02 - You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover
03 - Sugar
04 - Maybe Your Baby
05 - Superstition
06 - Big Brother
07 - Boogie On Reggae Woman
08 - You Haven't Done Nothing
09 - Have A Talk With God
10 - I Wish

And mind you, I haven't even started talking about Prince yet.

So Fine.

Since I'm boycotting Christmas I decided to just post a funky tune here. Technically I'd call Rashaan Patterson a soul artist, but some of his songs are decidedly funky anyhow. So, not in the spirit of Christmas at all I present:

So Fine
I hate wakin' up in the mornin'
With twisted thoughts runnin' through my head
All alone in love and lazy
Cuz I'd rather be in your bed

Cuz you me lovin' so fine
Sho nuff one of a kind
Takin' me to places unfound
You give me lovin' so fine -- Sho doo

As dawn approaches baby I shiver
Anticipating the new day
Cuz I'm sure to cry in rhythm
Thinkin' of the many ways
...that you give me...

I'm so addicted to your stuff
'M always in need of your sweet touch
Said I'm a junkie for your love
S' tell me when, I'll have the chance again

You give give good lovin' so fine
Sho nuff one of a kind
Takin' me to places unfound

So Merry Bloody Christmas, Happy Friggin Hanukkah, Good Blasted Islamic New Year, Fine Fucking Winter-Solstice or whatever. Not much for the holidays myself, I'm afraid.

Bonin'

I only have two things to say about this song. Firstly it really reminds me of someone I know. You know who you are. Secondly it reminds me that it's better not to publish certain lyrics because, well, they're quite silly. Please enjoy:

Bonin' in the Jungle

Got this feeling...
Got this feeling...
Got this feeling...

Oh ! I've got that feeling from the ocean yeah ! It's alright, yeah !

Got this feeling...
I got this feeling...
Got this feeling...

Oh ! I've got that feeling from the ocean yeah ! It's alright, yeah !

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah !!!
You got me, you got me bonin'

Got me bonin'...
I got me bonin'...
Got me bonin'...

Oh ! Got me bonin' in the Boneyard yeah ! It's alright, yeah !

Got me bonin'... Huh ! Huh !
I got me bonin'...
Got me bonin'...

Oh ! Got me bonin' in the Boneyard yeah ! It's alright, yeah !

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah !!!
You got me, you got me bonin'

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah !!!
You got me, you got me bonin'

Don't say I didn't warn you. Anyone who can list all porn movies that were sampled gets a special prize.

Freak Power

The other day I wrote about finding Ashley Slater on a compilation and that caused me to dust off my Freak Power records once more. As indicated, I never knew Fatboy Slim was involved in them. The only reason I ever knew Freak Power is because a Levi's commercial prominently featured their song Turn on, Tune in, Cop out which then went on to become a minor hit in Holland after the commercial gained popularity. Many people who don't know Freak Power still know that song, and many consider it to be their signature song. Now I decided to buy their album when I heard that song, and I was pleasantly surprised.

Unlike many albums I bought at that stage in my life, the self-titled "Freak Power" is still as listenable today as it was when I first got it. They blend funky sounds with a laid-back production that flirts with R&B, Soul and Hip-Hop, albeit in a way that reminds more of Dee-lite than Cypress Hill, if you catch my drift. Groove is in the heart, baby! Yeah! It's a very nice album, and funnily enough I think Turn on, Tune in, Cop out is one of the weaker songs on it. Their excellent cover of the Sly Stone tune "Running Away" is extremely cool, the hip-hop oriented "Big Time" is a solid head-bobber, "The Whip" and "Rush" offer lovely light grooves....

While lyrically it's all very much about respecting brothers and sisters, loving the world and generally having a good time, some of the things you hear are quite cool. "Moonbeam Woman" is really very naughty while the second song I'm offering for download here is about as much on the money as you can be. So please enjoy:

Change My Mind
When it comes to affairs of the head,
I always find that the better hung are the well read.
See that sat beneath the tree of thought,
Well five'll get you ten that it's me.
If ignorance is paradise, I don't agree.

Every minute I try
To change my mind.
Every minute I try
To change my mind.

When it comes to affairs of the leg,
Don't try to purchase the tapestry off the peg.
You might be sitting all alone in your room,
flying in an armchair ride.
You'll always find when you're looking out,
you'll see inside.

Something in this world has changed my mind I find,
I took a trip to heaven on the wings of womankind.
Something in this world makes every sense, experience,
take me to Utopia, to hell with the expense
'cause I try, yeah

When it comes to affairs of the mouth,
Come sup the sociable seminar in the deep south.
Don't tell me that talk is cheap,
when it's clear as my nose that it's not.
We make up all the characters, but not the plot.

St Germain Des Prés Café 8

On the same day I bought this Stephanie McKay album I mentioned earlier, I also picked up Concerto's Nu-Jazz tip for the day, St Germain Des Près Café, volume 8. It's a 2006 compilation of nu-jazz tunes which was lying there with a post-it on it saying such things as "Nu-Jazz Tip" and "11.95", so I had to take it with me. Initially I thought it was a compilation done by the French artist St Germain, but upon reading the Wiki and some other material I found out that St Germain is actually not associated with this series of compilations. Instead, the people behind Buddha Bar are.

In and of itself I that shouldn't bode well for the CD because Buddha Bar is something I've always found trite. While I can enjoy certain compilations like St Etienne's "The Trip" and Café del Mar Volumen Seis, usually I hate electronic lounge albums because I typically think it's elevator music. However, this CD is no such thing. The focus here is less on electronica and more on Jazz, albeit with touches of Fusion here and there. Nu-Jazz in other words. The compilation is very good. For those that are not acquainted with Swedish Nu-Jazz luminaries Koop, Britain's blackest sounding white girl Alice Russell and Norwegian Jazz-Funk duo Kinny & Horne, it is a great compilation to buy as it features songs of all three, and good ones at that. So judging by what I knew on the disc, the compiler had good taste.

The track I'm going to offer here is by Ashley Slater and it's the first track in the set. When I first heard the song I immediately recognized him as the frontman for Freak Power, a band that had a smash hit in 1995 with the song "Tune on, Tune in, Cop out". I've always loved that band. Their self-titled album from the same year features a great cover of Sly Stone's "Running Away" and the voice of the singer really does it for me. So imagine my surprise when I slide this 2006 Nu-Jazz compilation into the player and hear his voice. Now I never knew Freak Power's frontman was called Ashley Slater. And I never knew he also plays trombone. Hell, I didn't even know his partner in crime for Freak Power was Fatboy Slim. It's amazing, the things you can find out by simply buying a record.

Anyway, please enjoy Cellophane by Ashley Slater. I know I did.

Stephanie McKay

Stephanie McKay has apparently been at it for about 20 years in the music business, and I never knew who the woman was. When I was visiting my favorite record shop again this weekend, Concerto in the Utrechtse straat in Amsterdam, I asked the guy in the black music section what he could recommend for me, and he came up with Stephanie McKay's album "Tell it like it is". Looking at the album I decided to pick it up, because any woman with such a fro arouses my interest.

Arno knew her as the background singer of Amp Fiddler, but he wasn't sure if it would be an interesting record. She is sold as a Nu-Soul artist, but I'm not quite sure if I agree with that label. Some of the tracks on this album are squarely rooted in the 60s, some are funky and remind me of the 70s while others indeed are pure Nu-Soul. Having said that, the opening of the Album is sticky and nasty, just like it should. And it doesn't get significantly worse from there on. Please enjoy the funky tune Kinky, though unfortunately the lyrics have nothing to do with the title.

Kinky
Gotta get my feet back on the one
Get up, pack
All my shit and run
I pack light nothing in the way
I won’t look back
I’m surer everyday
Oh I won’t hesitate
And I’m surer everyday
Got my feet planted on the ground
From the wisdom that I found
I can see the light
And I finally got it right
And I ‘m through with talking all the time
chasing dollars for a dime

Gotta get back into the race
Brace myself tighten my shoelace
Bring on more cheddar for my plate
My appetite is rising and so is my pulse rate
Oh I’m here to stay
No matter what might come my way
And I keep my face in the light
Not afraid of any height
I won’t hesitate
kick the wall down till it breaks
And I ‘m through with talking all the time
chasing dollars for a dime
And I keep my face in the light
Not afraid of any height

Gotta get my feet back on the one
Get up, pack
All my shit and run
I pack light nothing in the way
I won’t look back
My life is clear as day, hey
Oh I’m here to stay
No matter what might come my way
My feet are planted on the ground from the wisdom
That I found
I can see the light and I finally got it right
And I’m through with talking all the time
chasing dollars for a dime
Keep my face in the light
Not afraid of any height
My feet are planted on the ground from the wisdom
That I found

Regeneration

One of the bands that I've discovered by way of a friend of mine in Israel is The Divine Comedy. A lot has been said and written about this band, and you can debate whether their 2001 album "Regeneration" is one of their strongest or weakest efforts. I would argue the former, since I sincerely love every note that is played on this album.

The glum and layered production by Godrich of Radiohead fame certainly works well with Hannon's baritone on this record. In my view, the standout track (if you can say such a thing) on this album is the decidedly depressing and uneasy fourth song:

Note to Self
Monday
Restate my assumptions
Heaven and hell
Do not exist

Tuesday
Restate my assumptions
If you die you do so
At your own risk

Into the heart of darkness
Beyond the point of no return

Wednesday
Restate my assumptions
Beauty is not
The same thing as youth

Thursday
Restate my assumptions
Only one thing beautiful
That's the truth

Into the heart of darkness
Beyond the point of no return

What the fuck is happening?
Where has everybody gone?
What the hell is going on?
There is nothing as frightening as being alone

Friday
Restate my assumptions
The writer writes for himself
Not for you

Saturday
Restate my assumptions
A song is not a song
Until it's listened to

Industrial Silence

There are a million possible ways of starting an album, and this has got to be one of the most bloody brilliant ones I've heard so far. Madrugada, the Norwegian depression-rockers
start their debut album "Industrial Silence" in a way I have no words for.

Vocal
You better run, you better run
You better not wait too long
You better run, you better run
You better run for you have a heart
So let's start, so let's start
So let's start, tear it all apart
You better run, you better run
You better run for you have a heart
Well, you know it's only so much I can take
I buried my head in that pillow for a million days
So, well, I'm sorry but I do not care to wait
Dare not walk through the light
Dare not walk through the light

Your vision's traveled far today
So why don't you run away
Your vision's traveled far today
Like in the times when you say

I have a cry, I have a cry, and I will not be contained
I have a cry, I have a cry, and I will not be contained, no
Well you know it is only so much I can take
Buried my head in that pillow a million days oh, oh
Well, I'm sorry but I do not care to wait
Dare not walk through the light
Dare not walk through the light
Oh, dare not walk through the light
Dare not walk through the light

Small Town Boy

Digging through my CD collection for additional albums to rip, I came across my double CD "The Best of Pop & Wave - The 12" Mixes", and started listening through it after ripping it. One of the songs on there that always had a specific impact on me is Bronsky Beat's "Small Town Boy". It's got some references to the parental home in it that I can't identify with. If anything, my home is what kept me sane during the first 16 years of my life. But the second part of the song is very much something that stayed with me through life.

Many people asked me why on earth I ended up in Sweden respectively Israel, and I can answer something generic about meeting women and whatnot, but at the end of the day some of my reasons for moving abroad and generally looking for a place in this world far, far outside of my home town have to do with childhood. Excuse me for going all Freudian on my own ass, but it's the only logical conclusion.

Anyway, all that aside, this song just kicks ass for it's own sake. I imagine there are many people who know it and remember it without knowing exactly who made it. So therefore I offer you, from my own trip down memory lane, Bronsky Beat with Small Town Boy, but this time in the 12" version.

Small Town Boy
Pushed around and kicked around
Always a lonely boy
You were the one
That they'd talk about around town
As they put you down

And as hard as they would try
They'd hurt to make you cry
But you never cried to them
Just to your soul
No you never cried to them
Just to your soul

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.

Cry , boy, cry...

Kinky Afro

Now I grew up with MTV back in the day when it was still cool and not a bunch of watered down commercials for record industry products that are a rehash of the last two decades. Roy Cakes was on with that crazy Belgian, Paul King (remember Love and Pride?) was on, headbangers ball was still presented by that trashy looking vamp, and all was good. Some of the music I will never forget seeing in those days are Beck's Loser when it came out, some G 'n' R video's and last but not least the Happy Mondays videos of the early nineties.

The latter made an excellent album which got produced by the tripmaster Paul Oakenfold, so it offered the Mancunian rock wave sound combined with a laid back club groove all on one album. That album features the absolute best of the Mondays in my view.

Recently I found a nice collecter's edition of Pills 'n' Thrills 'n' Bellyaches in a shop in Haifa, and I just couldn't help myself. Maybe it's because the Mondays made cool music. Maybe it's because they're Mancunian, and can be seen as the Godfathers of the Manchester wave. Maybe it's because I remember those wacky videos. Maybe it's because they did enough drugs to kill a small country's population and maybe, just maybe it's because they poisoned 500 pigeons from a Manchester rooftop once. I fucking hate pigeons.

Anyway, I picked it up and was surprised to find that most of that album actually withstood the test of time. Most of the songs are still as enjoyable as back in the day, and it doesn't sound dated one bit to me. Kudos to the Mondays and Oakenfold there. But while giving this album a spin and listening more intently, I was surprised how some of the lyrics are just fantastic. Kinky Afro is arguably the coolest song the Mondays released. Better than Loose Fit and Step On. But the opening lines, which are the opening lines of the Album as a whole, are by far the most astute comment on parenthood I have seen in my life. This is so cynical and spot on that they're giving the Moz a run for his money, dare I say it.

Kinky Afro

Son, Im thirty
I only went with your mother 'cause she's dirty
And I don't have a decent bone in me
What you get is just what you see yeah
I should so I take it free yeah
And all the bad preserves be things that feed me
I never help or give to the needy
Come on and see me

Yippee-ippee-ay-ay-ay-yey-yeah
I had to crucify some brother today
And I dont dig what you gotta say
So come on and say it
Come on and tell me twice

I said dad you're a shabby
You run around and groove like a baggy
Youre only here just out of habit
All that's mine you might as well have it
You take 10p back and then stab it
Spray it on and tag it
So sack on me
I can't stand the needy
Get around here if you're asking you're feeling

Yippee-ippee-ay-ay-ay-yey-yeah
I had to crucify somebody today
And I don't dig what you gotta say
So come on and say it
Come on and tell me twice

So sack all the needy
I cant stand to leave it
You come around here and you put both your feet in

Couldn't stand the damn Dog

Recently I have been ripping a lot of my music collection. I'm now up at having digitized more than six hundred albums. Yesterday I was ripping through my collection of Tom Waits CD's which is quite large, if not comprehensive. Tom Waits is a musician that makes albums that in turn delight and disturb me deeply. Some of his music is just too weird, some of it is utterly brilliant, and I'm never quite sure which is which.

The albums Swordfishtrombones and Rain Dogs are some of his clinically insane outings, but they have their moments of brilliance, be it in the music or the lyrics. He's a gifted lyricist in that he observes what few artists choose to observe, and he's the man who wrote such lines as "Don't you know there ain't no Devil, there's just God when he's drunk" (Heartattack and Vine) and "A redhead in a uniform will always get you horny" (Foreign Affairs).

Now this song off Swordfishtrombones might be a bit macabre, but for some reason I can identify with its sentiment completely. I don't know what that says about me. Maybe it's better not to think about that, but here's Frank's Wild Years for downloading. It's a short song, but to me it says more about anything than 99% of modern music out there. Enjoy.

Frank's Wild Years

Frank settled down in the Valley,
and he hung his wild years on a
nail that he drove through his
wife's forehead.

He sold used office furniture out
there on San Fernando Road and
assumed a $30,000 loan at
15 1/4 % and put a down payment
on a little two bedroom place.

His wife was a spent piece of used jet trash
Made good bloody-marys, kept her mouth
shut most of the time, had a little Chihuahua
named Carlos that had some kind of skin
disease and was totally blind.

They had a thoroughly modern kitchen;
self-cleaning oven 'n' the whole bit
Frank drove a little sedan.
They were so happy.

One night Frank was on his way home
from work, stopped at the liquor store,
picked up a couple of Mickey's Big Mouth’s.
Drank 'em in the car on his way to the
Shell station; he got a gallon of gas in a can.

Drove home, doused everything in
the house, torched it.
Parked across the street laughing,
watching it burn, all Halloween
orange and chimney red.

Frank put on a top forty station,
got on the Hollywood Freeway
headed North.

Never could stand that dog.

Jukebox.

It's not often I have to reverse on my positions on Lo-Fi artists. Typically the lo-fi people's (lack of) production values make for eternally flawed recordings that are kind of like masturbating with a cheese-grate... Interesting, but painful. Of course, you have the mainstays like Will Oldham (aka Bonnie 'Prince' Billy) and the Magnetic Fields that are good in spite of the budget, but apart from that it's just not my cup of tea.

So when I heard Cat Power's "Jukebox" played in a record store yesterday I was surprised to find out it was her. I had heard her earliest outings because of a Lo-Fi Loving friend of mine in Sweden had insisted, and I had seen her live at the Debaser club in Stockholm, but I was hardly impressed with it all. She has made some pretty gritty lo-fi stuff, and I wasn't expecting something as polished as this.

The whole album is bursting at the seams with languid vocals and guitar play, and she seems to have managed to attract a very decent keys-player who lays down very nice Rhodes accents throughout the whole album. The music sounds great, albeit a bit heavy on the reverb.

She also makes some bold choices here. There are Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Hank Williams and Frank Sinatra covers on this album. I'm not sure how to even qualify it, because some of the songs are country-ish, while others are rhythm and blues, soul, blues and even jazz influenced. The one common denominator on the album is the atmosphere which is decidedly brooding.

All in all, this album made me want to revisit her 2006 album "The Greatest" which allegedly is a tribute to the Memphis soul scene, from which she got some of the backing musicians to play on Jukebox too.

Some critics seem to dislike her opening tune because it is too predictable of her, but not having heard much of her other albums I was completely blown away by it. It is by far the coolest rendition of a Frank Sinatra song I have heard to date, and a good indicator of the ear-candy you can expect on this album. Therefore, please enjoy New York by Cat Power, and then run out and buy Jukebox.

King King.

Every now and then people make albums that seem to render the rest of the genre obsolete or superfluous, and the 1992 live recording by The Red Devils, "King King" pretty much does that for blues, blues-rock and most rock. It is a hard-hitting set of 12 songs recorded at the King King club, 6 years before the demise of their harp player and lead singer, Lester Butler. He died of an OD in 1998, which to me seems kind of fitting for a blues man.

In spite of these guys all being white, they deliver in spades. The band is tight, the sound original yet familiar, the harp playing is inspired and gritty as hell. In fact this whole album is made of pure grit, grime, sweat and smoke, just like it ought to be. It may be strange to quote Radiohead in a Blues review, but the Red Devils offer you no alarms and no surprises here. It's blues, man. Unadulterated and unpolished as anyone has ever recorded it. Once you buy it, there are only two things you can do to this album. The first one is kind of elaborate, so bear with me.

You take this album and fly down to the deep south of the US. Find yourself a small town with a drug store, a local mechanic and gas station and a juke joint. You go to the local mechanic and pick up a greasy, beat up American vehicle with a V8 engine, a leather couch for a front seat, an automatic gearbox attached to the wheel, an ash tray and a decent CD system. Then get yourself a hot looking woman with an attitude, a short dress and no shoes, a cold six pack of beer and a pouch of tobacco.

Next you wait for one of those cindering hot summer days where the cotton is high and the only things that move are the heat tremors above the tarmac and the alligators looking for lunch. You take your CD, woman, six pack and tobacco, and put them all in the car, roll a cigarette, light up and then you drive that car 500 miles down backwater roads with the windows down, the woman cuddled up to you with her naked feet on the dash, cooling her neck with a can of ice-cold beer and the system as far up as it can go.

Or you can just stick it in your stereo and play the damn thing. I guarantee you, the feeling will be all the same. Please enjoy No Fightin' by the Red Devils.

Hope?

Since my kid was born, the notion of Identity has been on my mind more than before. For all intents and purposes a whole bunch of people are going to label him a Jew, because his mother is Jewish. I would label him half Israeli, half Dutch, because I don't believe his system of morals / beliefs is ever set in stone. How he sees himself later on, and how he presents himself will determine how other people view him, and ultimately might restrict his freedom of movement in the world, but he's not born with anything except socio-economic circumstances.

Brandishing his Dutch identity he would be free to go where he damn well pleases. If he adopts the Israeli Jewish moniker for himself, he will end up with half the world being off limits and parts of the rest biased against him. Still, he's the same blue eyed boy. How fucked up is that?

Having said that, I once got this obscure CD from a friend of mine in Sweden. Ethan Daniel Davidson's "Don Quixote De Suburbia" is a mixed bag, but a very interesting one. I hadn't listened to it for a long time, but yesterday I had put it on my new iPod 80GB, along with 5800 other songs, and while I was thinking about this aspect of Daniel's life to be, this song by Ethan Daniel Davidson flashed by.

By his own admission he's part Jewish, part Native American and looking at his last name, there are Scandinavian settlers in the mix too... Because Ethan and Daniel are Jewish names (or can be) while Davidson can be as Swedish as an elk. So he sings / speaks this song about going to the deep south and partying in a mixed crowd next to the house of the asshole who founded the KKK back in the day, and he managed to put my mind at ease somewhat.

Listen to the lyrics of this funky tune. It's one of the best songs I've rediscovered recently, and it actually has something intelligent to say about the state of the world. Enjoy Ghosts of Mississippi by Ethan Daniel Davidson.

U2? No thank U.

I've been following the music industry versus technical industry debate with great interest, and now U2's long-time manager has made a speech about how the poor record industry that has "relied on poorly paid enthusiasts" is suffering from the "corporate culture of Silicon Valley" where "nearly every employee is a share-holder". Furthermore he is complaining that consumers are "stealing with impunity" the works of the music industry. In the same speech this guy mentions that U2's 2005 tour grossed 355 million dollars, and that their last record went #1 in 27 different countries. So here we have a dude who, along with the rest of U2, have got a bank-account that far surpasses 99% of all the people who work in the high-tech business, put their by the fans and consumers, who is complaining that his revenue stream is drying up.

Coming from a band who has not made any significant contribution to Music since the 80s War, October and the Joshua Tree, who have been relying on producing middle-of the road bloody boring stadium rock with lyrics that turn less and less political as time goes by, a band that has been wearing larger and larger sunglasses *inside* *while it's dark* *all the time*. If U2 looked at their own video for "New years day" they should feel ashamed of the money grabbing executives they have become. And then to have the gall to call the fans and consumers, who provided them with more fucking cash than the average 3rd world country has, thieves is a bit far fetched.

Then he goes on to criticize "da innernet" and all of its companies for making money on developing technology that enable the average consumer to become one of said THIEVES. Technology business is largely run by enthusiasts who invent things because they think they're cool or useful to the community. These are the roots of HP, Apple, Google and quite a few other technology players.

Lastly he criticized Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails for their move away from record companies. Two acts that indeed have been producing innovative and thought-provoking music throughout their career, albeit in totally different ways. I can name at least a hundred artists just like them, who are not affiliated with Big Labels. Who offer downloads on Internet or who would be happy to find out people were downloading and digging their stuff.

The Music business on the other hand, is a cynical business that pushes shite down 15 year old boys and girls' throats while screwing artists on the other hand. On that note, I think it is about time EMI, Sony and BMG went fucking bankrupt. U2 is nothing more and nothing less than the latest incarnation of bloody BoyZone or Brittney. They are a money machine who have not made a single memorable album since 1987, while cashing in the megabucks.

And they're calling me, an avid record collector who does the odd download to evaluate things and who works for a High-Tech company a thief? I had one U2 album in my collection by virtue of the fact that I got it from someone. This U2 album has now been thrown into the rubbish bin. Along with my Metallica records.

Fucking tossers.

Best By Far?

For a long long time, my friend Arno and I have been exchanging ideas about the world and music alike. One of the ideas he's had so far is that I should purchase records by a guy named Omar, a British gentleman who does funk/nu-soul. Somehow he must have played me the wrong tracks or described the wrong thing, because I never listened to Arno or Omar for that matter. Until recently.

I was in Amsterdam, walking along with Arno until we got to Concerto. We even tried walking hand-in-hand for the hell of it, but that didn't work because each of us wanted to walk with his own hand in the dominant front position. I guess that makes us too straight for our own good, but I digress. At Concerto Arno saw Omar's 2001 album "Best by far" for 8 Euros in the second hand bin. Since that's rather expensive for a secondhander, I wasn't too keen on buying it, also because I had 73 Euros worth of Merchandise in my hands already.

Discussion ensued and he forced it on me. Since then I have listened to it at home, on airplanes, in taxis and in the car, and I'm whacking myself over the head for not having bought this album when it came out. The track that I'm putting on the site here is the starting track of the album, and potentially it is Best By Far. In the sense that this opening song is the end-all be all of all opening tracks I've heard with maybe the exception of "Rikki don't lose that number" on the D's Pretzel Logic.

The album has got some funky soul, even when it's ripping through styles like Bossa, Trance and Reggae. Funnily enough the Title Track, Best by Far, is by far the weakest track on the album, to the point where I even skip it when it comes along at number 5. The other 14 tracks are brilliant, right up to the trancy re-mix of the second track that closes the whole affair. And I really don't like trance.

Also noteworthy are "To the top", which boast some seriously frivolous wind instruments and other sounds while remaining funky and "Come On" which has the best electro-bass line since Parliament's Flashlight. So please enjoy I guess by Omar. Merry Christmas and all that humbug, now run out and get that album.

Into the Wild

In 2000 I had just moved to Sweden, and at the time I was in a rocky relationship with a woman who was into the whole alternative rock thing, and to paraphrase Samuel L Jackson, that practically made me into the whole alternative rock thing too. So when the news surfaced that Pearl Jam was coming to Stockholm, we scored us some tickets. It was after all one of the only things we could agree upon. So we went to Sjöhistoriska Museet, a museum on the North-East side of Stockholm City, on a bank of the Baltic. It was one of those long Swedish summer evenings where the sun seems to set and then just hover there on the cusp of coming back up immediately, casting everything in a four hour red twilight.

We arrived a bit early, but there was already a huge commotion of people making for the stage. I didn't know at the time that Eddie Vedder is prone to do half-hour solo sessions before his Pearl Jam gigs in which he can do folk, pop and other covers. In we went, sat down, and were treated to him doing 30 minutes or so of brilliant acoustic singing and playing. Vedder Alone and Acoustic is, in retrospect, a much bigger treat than Pearl Jam as a whole. The gig was fine though. They played quite a bit of their "Ten" album and quite a bit of the stuff that came after, and things were good. We even got a fly by of big hot-air Balloons that crashed the concert. Vedder made the quip "I hope you enjoy it, you fucking freeloaders", and merrily continued playing his tunes.

Almost seven and a half years later, I found myself standing in this record shop in Ra'anana I've been talking about, and I see a solo album by Eddie Vedder out. Apparently, Sean Penn had made a movie to the book Into The Wild, and asked Vedder to pen the Soundtrack. The whole thing, upon closer inspection, only lasts for 33 minutes but is an absolute joy to my ears. Precisely because it leads my thoughts back to that open-air concert on that night in Sweden. Essentially, this album is played and written by Vedder. The tracks are short, folky and earthy, and generally speaking all instruments are done by the man himself. There are some guest musicians on one or two tracks, and there are two tracks he didn't write. But all in all it feels like Eddie Vedder just climbed on a stage with an acoustic guitar, a banjo and a drum to do his thing for half an hour.

This makes it outstrip any Pearl Jam album ever made. To illustrate what I mean I'd herewith like to give you the sublime, banjo plucked (or is that a ukelele?) Rise. Enjoy!

Such is the way of the world, you can never know...

Music Scene

To illustrate what Kutiman means with No Groove Where I Come From, check out this MySpace profile. These ladies have talent. They sing a good harmony, and they are purdy much the only ones in Israel that seem to have heard of an actual harmony. Listen to the track "So Far", which I think is brilliant. Then think about this for a second: The whole album's most upbeat track *is* so Far. Some don't even have a semblance of a rhythm section and they just meander around without a goal or the slightest bit of balls. And this, I fear, is typical for the Israeli music scene.

The owner of the record shop I mentioned told me he works in Radio sometimes too. And for memorial days, they change the programming to be exclusively ballads and sad songs. He said that after days like that, they receive thousands of e-mails on "how excellent" the programming was. This overall attitude really depresses me. Like I said, HaBanot Nechama have talent. And I'm not looking for a pop product. But lay off the fucking meandering ballads and the eternal melancholy already! To allow these girls to make something that isn't as melancholy-prone. Jesus H fucking Christ. The Israeli population should get a collective fucking clue about music.

Specially if you keep in mind that the rave-scene is lively here. So apparently, between tasteless Hebrew versions of Italo-Pop, thumping Rave of yesteryear and these bloody fucking Ballads, you've captured the Israeli scene. I'm going to quit ranting and raving now. But it's worrisome that a country has a music scene decidedly *less* interesting than the Dutch. I never thought it possible, you see.

PS: When I say Sad Songs and Ballads, I don't mean they have the taste or grace to put on a Willie Nelson tune or an Otis Redding song, OK? Just to be clear on this.

No Groove Where I Come From

I have discovered a brilliant record store in Ra'anana, called The Third Ear. The owner is a huge Steely Dan fan, has Fred Wesley and the Horny Horns on sale as a default and to top it off he knew what I was talking about when I wanted to order William Shatner's "Has Been". As a matter of fact, these people have given me a few good tips already, but more about that later. Now the other day I was having a smoke with one of the employees, and we were talking about P-Funk and the sorry-ass state of groove in Israel. I asked him "So what do *you* think about the Israeli music scene?". He just smiled, took a drag off of his cigarette and said "We don't talk about it in this store. It just don't exist". Amen to that.

So yesterday I walk into the store, and they're playing a modern take on P-funk. I ask the dude what it was he was playing, and to my complete bewilderment he answered it was Israeli. We all stood there and marveled at that for a while. One customer asked if he had heard that correctly, and all that. Much hilarity ensued. Apparently there is a Gentleman named Ophir Kutiel who calls 'mself Kutiman. He plays keys, guitar, bass and, most of all, drums. The guy sat down in his home studio with a couple of friends that are into groove as well, and cut a self-titled album that consists of thirteen cuts, on which he plays most of the instruments. He gets vocal backing from a couple of people and there's a few horn-players that supply much needed wind to the album.

This is also the weak aspect of the Album. Kutiman is not a lyricist. He is not a singer. He lays down grooves, but somehow the thing feels unfinished. It's decidedly funky in places, but it's missing something. The whole album is too much a product of one dude sitting down and giving his interpretation of what Funk should be, but he's no Stevie Wonder or Johnny Guitar Watson. Having said that, it is the grooviest thing I have heard coming out of Israel to date. And that makes him one out of three Israeli artists that for one reason or another are worth listening to. Obviously, it's also true that the budget he has most likely received to make this album is such that he couldn't indulge in Isaac Hayes' scope of arranging exactly either. So all in all, this home-grown funk album is definitely worthwhile. On some tracks there's too much emphasis on P-funkish synth diddles. They're a one man show. Consequently I really think the album shines on cuts where he really uses those horn players and some vocals.All in all an excellent first foray into cutting a full length album of funky stuff. Somebody just needs to give this guy Mo' Money.

If you consider the Artist was born and raised in the most arid of countries when it comes to Funk, Soul, Groove and R&B, you'll appreciate it even more. For there is No Groove Where He Comes From. So I decided to post the so aptly named fourth track of the album, No Groove Where I Come From. It's a five minute funk extravaganza with chanting, horns, freaky synths, a very decent bridge and a colossal ending. Enjoy!

Que Onda III

A while ago I started talking about Latin music. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that some people associate the likes of Ricky Martin, Enrique Iglesias and Shakira with Latin Music, and I'm not entirely sure of the Gentleman I am going to post today would turn around in his grave or not. Carlos Gardel was really the son of French immigrants in Argentina, and instead of a career as a more classical baritone, he chose to embrace the working class music of the time, the Argentinian Tango.

It has always struck me as funny that the genre of the Argentinian Tango was popularized and defined in many ways by a Frenchman, but there you have it. And as it was the "less cultured" choice at the time, I'm not so sure if Mr Gardel would actively dislike the commercialized pop that Latin has become. Somewhere inside me there's a music-snob lurking, working at the burger king, spitting on your onion rings, who hopes that he would indeed roll over in his grave at the thought of being lumped in with these contemporary "Latin" artists.

Either which way, the music of Carlos Gardel represents some of the oldest recordings I have in my posession. It's him, Charlie Patton, Robert Johnson, Benny Goodman and Bix Beiderbecke that represent the thirties in my collection. Like Robert Johnson he also died way before his recording career should have been over. He died in a plane crash in 1935, which is about as tragic as the death of Robert Johnson in 1938.

Although it must be said... I mean, we all know Stevie Wonder was a musical genius. With everything he did in the seventies in mind, the man should have been nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize somewhere along the line. But then the eighties hit him, and he started turning out shite like "I just called... " and such. With that in mind, it is maybe a good thing Gardel died when he did, because it enabled him to leave behind an expressive and immaculate set of recordings.

Now I hate to be a cliché-monger, but in his case the stand out track amongst the ones he left behind is Por una Cabeza. I love that tune. I first heard it on a Friend's compilation, the Luistervinken, but since then I've heard it pop up in TV-shows, or small parts of it here and there in the media. So I'm relatively sure some of you will recognize parts of it.

Enjoy!

Hipperdehop III

It is my sincere belief that nobody should be mentioning Hip-Hop of any kind without mentioning De La Soul. These people have made a number of albums that are underrated because they didn't do what the rest of the business was doing, but in the mean time they did introduce a whole new way of handling samples. And sampling they did. Not just the Usual Suspects like James Brown, the JB's, Funkadelic and Parliament either... Anyone from Luther Vandross to Hall & Oates to the illustrious Steely Dan ended up on the chopping block of Plug One, Two and Three.

The other thing that sets 'm apart from all the Public Enemy's and Ice-Teas of this world is the fact that they never went Gangsta on anyone's ass. There is no bustin' caps and running drugs on their albums, and they don't call any Birds Bitches or Hos either. They don't talk about Unclefuckers as a matter of course and they refrain from MurderDeathKill in their songs. This puts 'm in a corner with people like Tribe Called Quest, Q-Tip, Will Smith, Arrested Development and other acts that spread a more positive message. Still, don't call 'm Hippies, because that pisses 'm off.

Now most people my age have at least heard a De La Soul tune or two. Eye Know (featuring a sample from Steely D's "Peg"), Say No Go (featuring Hall & Oates' sample from their Say No Go) and Me Myself and I were all relatively large hits in the late eighties and early nineties. Ring Ring Ring (Ha Ha Hey) was also a big hit. However, the rest of their stuff has always eluded those that are not into Hip-Hop per se.

This is a shame, because De La Soul have always evolved their style from album to album. To be honest, I only bought a Best Of album, because I've never been into hip-hop enough to build a comprehensive collection. But the track I want to put on this compilation is almost more of an R&B track than a Hip-Hop track, and it's not from the ubiquitous "3 Feet High and Rising" or "De La Soul is dead" albums. It's a duet featuring Chaka Kahn laid over a very nice guitar and bass background. The whole thing is funky as hell, although it might not sound like what you might expect after hearing "Me, Myself and I" or "Ring Ring Ring".

So for something different from the Plugs, please enjoy their All Good from the 2000 album Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump. If you like what you hear, run out and buy a De La Soul collection or a couple of albums. They know their stuff.

Hipperdehop II

A group that I've been a fan of since they first had a hit in the Netherlands with "Zu geil für diese Welt" is Die Fantastischen Vier. German is normally not the first language people think of when they think of Hip-Hop, but Die Fantastischen Vier, and their man Schwudio in particular, always had fantastic flow in their native tongue. Furthermore, the fact that they collaborated with Bootsy on one of the few good tracks from "Fresh outta P University" does well in my eyes.

For a long time, the only had of them is the trip-hoppish and very esoteric "Die 4. Dimension" which does include some very good tracks. When a friend of mine alerted me to the fact that Die Vier had done an unplugged album, I payed extra attention though. So I went out and got it. It's a fine album all in all. Frankly, there aren't many Hip-Hop albums I can listen to back-to-back, and this one is no exception. But it does have a couple of stand-out tracks that I keep coming back to, and which are bigger favorites than the superb "Tag am Meer" on "Die 4. Dimension".

The track I want to put in this compilation is surely one of the very best break-up songs ever penned on this planet. The lyrics, for those who understand them, are fantastic. Not just insightful, but also downright funny and sarcastic. Musically the whole thing really works well too. Again, this is from a Live and Unplugged performance, there are no studio tricks going on here. And yet everything is tight, atmospheric and the flow is great. It really showcases why I'm a fan of "Die Fantastischen Vier" to begin with.

So without further ado, from their Unplugged album, I herewith give you the second entry in the Hipperdehop compilation: Die Fantastischen Vier with Raus.

Woher kommt die Kraft die es schafft,
daß man am Rausch des Lebens zieht und nicht pafft?
Und überhaupt, wer sich nichts erlaubt
sich nichts traut, der verstaubt ~
beraubt sich aller Dinge die er glaubt,
und vertraut sich nicht.

Que Onda? II

This is something I wasn't planning on at all. I've decided to include a Neil Young cover in the Que Onda compilation on Latin sounds. Neil Young has never dabbled in Latin. I'm a fan of the man, but not for his exotic rhythms as it were. However, through a newsletter from a Dutch alternative rock/americana band I've been following (The Gasoline Brothers) a bit, I came to a website called CoverClub where six bands posted free songs. Covers of Neil Young songs.

Honourable mentions also to the Moss people, although their version didn't add much to the original. The Ponokos version of Pocahontas is also very good. However, the one track on that compilation that really grabs me is made by a Lady called Marjoleine Reitsma, known as the artist Leine. She's only had one solo-outing, an EP / CD called "Songs at the dinner table" which I'm in the process of ordering. Her cover of A man needs a Maid is splendid.

She apparantly did everything herself, the body sounds, sax, guitar and what sounds like a bandoneon. And let's not forget the singing. Her voice really stands out. It's relaxed, it's jazzy. To me, there's even something sexy about it. Either which way, the results are a jazzy bossa-nova tune with an interesting break in the middle which is not Latin per se, other than the instruments used.

I almost had to think of Kevin Johansen when I was listening to it. There will be more on him later for those that don't know 'm. Anyway, enjoy the second entry for Que Onda.... Leine's version of A man needs a Maid. I'm really really looking forward to receiving her CD. It's got six songs on it, but I've heard they all hit the spot, so we'll chalk that up to less-is-more.

Hipperdehop I

Earlier I kicked off the Que Onda Latin compilation, but I also listen to Hip-Hop from strange places. Of course I listen to some of the US artists, but I've got a thing about hip hop from other countries as long as it's well done. So I'm doing two compilations in parallel: Que Onda for your Latin sounds and Hipperdehop for your ghetto kicks.

The first song for Hipperdehop is not exactly from the Ghetto. The Swedish Ragga/Hip-hop outfit Rhymatic is not normally my cup of tea because it's just that, a reggaeton and ragga outfit. The one song featured here is from their 2005 album "Skak ditt Asul" and it is more old skool (if you allow me to abuse that term). The funny thing about these people is that they do their rapping in Gotländska, a dialect from the Swedish Island Gotland. This dialect is a wee hard to understand sometimes, but the use of it in Ragga-style rapping is surprisingly appropriate.

The song in question is, of course, about hoes. Over here we call 'm "luder", not bitches. Gråbo is a neighborhood in Visby, the Island's capital, and the song details the adventures of a protagonist that sees himself get rejected by gold-digging stuck up women, tourists from the mainland, and goes home to the hood to get some good ghetto loving from a Gråbo-ho. Of course this is a rather big load of crock, because Gråbo isn't exactly a ghetto even by my Dutch standards, and the women in it are just... well... Swedish. But it doesn't make the song less cool.

Without further ado I urge you to enjoy the first song on the Hipperdehop list, Rhymatic's Gråboluder.

Que Onda?

Earlier I wrote Israel was not the place for Jazz, really. So people might wonder what it is the place for. To be honest, Israel's music scene is not even close to being covered by the word horrible. Abysmal, frightful and terrible also come to mind, but still it doesn't begin to express how bloody boring and blasé I think 99 out of 100 Israeli songs are. Bland Ballads, annoying Italo-pop and half-ethnic commercial efforts with a good dose of Arabic or Hebrew "wallawalla" wailing in it are the norm of the day, and I hear them blaring out from every car I pass. If there are people of musical taste in this country, they keep quiet and well hidden.

But the weather is definitely sunny, so one thing I find myself listening to is Latin music of different kinds. Admittedly, half of my Latin collection is Brazilian. Brazil is simply a wonderful country from a musical perspective. Either which way, I got the bright idea to do a "Que Onda?" compilation of "latin" music, whatever that might mean. I am told that according to Brazilians there is no such thing as genres of music. There is simply music and man is put on earth to play it, whatever it is. We'll see. I'll still take the liberty of making a Latin Compilation.

It's no more than fair that I start in Brazil. With the man who originally wrote "Mas Que Nada". That particular song was one of the things Sergio Mendes actually did better than the original. One of the few things, I might add, because Mendes tends to get to bland. So Mas Que Nada will pop up later and not done by Jorge Ben. Not that there's much wrong with the original, it's just that it's not a standout track for the man. It's simply one of twenty excellent songs on the album I have.

The best track of the "best of" album I have is by far O telefone tocou novamente. It's funky as hell, it has a good voice track, it's got a cool horn section in it, it has a string section and it just rocks. It's one of those songs I can put on repeat for 45 minutes or more without getting the least bit tired of it.

Download it. Burn it. Stick it in your car stereo. Put the volume on the maximum your ears and speakers can take and let Mr Jorge Ben do it to you in your eardrums!

Bertje, that's Jazz XI

Recently I've been feeling I wanted to get this compilation of Jazz over and done with. One reason is that currently I'm not listening to Jazz as much as I did in Sweden. Somehow it seems Israel is not the place to listen to Jazz. Something about the light and the surroundings that don't fit to the genre.

For this reason, the last track on the "Bertje, that's Jazz" compilation is something I've been mulling over in my head. Should it be French gypsy jazz, should it be more Brazilian jazz, or something contemporary, or just plain ragtime fun with Benny Goodman or the Dutch Swing College Band? But then I decided to give the slot to a gentleman I haven't been entirely fair to.

The entry on Jamie Cullum was pre-mature. While I am happy with song on the compilation, I'm not sure about the amount of praise I gave Cullum at the expense of Connick. At the time I thought it was great, but upon repeated listening I decided it's a bit of a fad. So I dissed Harry Connick Jr. too soon. Harry Connick, as opposed to some of Jamie Cullum's stuff, has more staying power. Granted, a couple of his albums like "30" and "Star Turtle" are mediocre at best, but "Come by me", "We are in Love" and "She" are albums I still greatly and regularly enjoy.

Therefore I give you my last track in the Jazz compilation, off the album "Come by me": Harry Connick Jr.'s Cry me a River. Technically this is a big band or swing album on which Harry acts more as a croner in the style of Sinatra and Darin, but I've always enjoyed this classic song. And this particular version highlights Harry's affinity for all things New Orleans quite nicely. So enjoy, and judge for yourself.

This makes the final playlist as follows:

01) Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong - Summertime
02) Joao Gilberto - Chega de Saudade
03) Bo Kaspers Orkester - Jorden Snurrar
04) Chet Baker - You're Driving me Crazy
05) Clark Terry and the Oscar Peterson Trio - Mack the Knife
06) Harry Connick Jr. - Cry me a River
07) Alice Russell - High Up on the Hook
08) The Oscar Peterson Trio with Milt Jackson - Work Song
09) Jamie Cullum - Nothing I do
10) Nat King Cole - Sweet Lorraine
11) Billie Holliday - Stormy Weather

Bertje, that's Jazz X

No Jazz compilation could exist without some Billie Holiday in it. What Edith Piaf did for the Chanson, she did for Jazz standards. I guess many people that don't listen to jazz still might have a Billie Holiday album floating around. Although I never thought she was on par with Ella Fitzgerald, I do see the point. She expresses a lot with her singing, from misery to joy to a sense of being browbeaten by life, it's all there.

So in spite of the fact that I'm not the greatest fan, I still think she deserves a slot in the compilation. Luckily I have an old favourite song that she sings very well. Back in the early nineties there was a commercial for a life-insurance company in the Netherlands, where this grizzly looking Dutch singer would start the commercial by singing a piece of Stormy Weather, and then he'd go on to say that that would be the song, recorded by Billie Holiday, he'd want to play at his funeral.

That always stuck in my memory, so when I came across the tune he mentioned a couple years later, I payed extra attention. Technically it's a blues tune, but I've always loved it. Please enjoy Billie Holiday's Stormy Weather.

Don't know why
ain't no sun up in the sky
Stormy weather
since my man and I
ain't together
Keeps raining all the time

Bob Dog Never Sleeps

One of the bands I've been listening to over the past years is Bob Hund. They are best characterized as absurd. The music is absurd, the band is absurd and the lyrics are even more absurd. I've written about them earlier, both as Bob Hund and as Bergman Rock, their English effort. Bob Hund sings not just in Swedish but worse than that, in a dialect called Skånska. Skåne is the southernmost province (Län/Landskap) in Sweden, and the natives speak something that sounds like it's borrowing from both Swedish and Danish. Many people dislike the dialect, but I've always had a thing for it.

One of my best friends in Sweden is from that place. Ever since he told me the story of a friend who picked up a woman in a bar in Malmö, the dialect has great entertainment value for me. They went to his hotel room and started making out. When the making out started developing towards sex, the woman interrupted him, saying: "Fisken är trasig, ta tvåan" in a broad Malmö-Skånsk dialect. Literally translated, this means "The fish is broken, take number two". Needless to say the gentleman was so worried by that statement he aborted the pleasantries on the spot. One does wonder what is meant by "the fish is broken".

Anyway, I've been listening to this live collection of Bob Hund. They make great punk music with unexpected and weird twists. I've seen 'm live twice, which means I recognize the energy with which they perform in the recording, including the semi-cynical comments made by the singer throughout gigs.

The track I've uploaded here starts with the sentence "Vår orkester heter Bob Hund och vi är de enda som kan säga det", and they are perfectly right. The band is called Bob Hund and they are the only ones who can say that. They are, by all means, unique in the music business. Period. Weirder than Fanfare Ciocarlia, more cynical than The Moz (although... that *is* a matter of debate).

Please enjoy Raketmaskinen from their live album Bob Hund Sover Aldrig.

Bertje, that's Jazz IX

I had never heard of Clark Terry until I picked up this Oscar Peterson Trio CD. Oscar Peterson being one of my all time favorite artists in Jazz, I just decided to check it out, not knowing anything about it. But if you dig a little deeper into Clark Terry's career, you'll see an amazing list of jazz musicians scroll by who worked with the man. Anyone from Basie to Ella to Peterson, Quincy Jones and Sir Duke have recorded music with the man.

Furthermore, the album The Oscar Peterson Trio + One Clark Terry is interesting because Terry is doing some pioneering work on an instrument that you simply don't hear in many Jazz solos. The Flugelhorn. I first thought it was a muted trumpet, but it's a horn. Terry does play the trumpet too, hell, he even wrote the book on circular breathing for several wind instruments, but here he chose to record the entire session on Flugelhorn.

The track I've chosen from the album is one that everyone knows, whether they know it or not. Written, originally as Die Moritat von Mackie Messer, by Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht for "die Dreigroschenoper", Mack the Knife has been played by too many people to even mention. Nor just Bobby Darin and Frank Sinatra, but unexpected artists like The Divine Comedy, the Doors and Nick Cave have done versions of it.

Since the song has always fascinated me, I own many versions of it. Ella, Satchmo, Ellington, Robbie Williams, Ol' blue eyes, you name 'm, they are somewhere in my collection. It's almost like the fascination I have for Mr Bojangles versions. Perhaps the most interesting version in my possession is a Lotte Lenya recording from the 30's in German, because in spirit I imagine it to be the closest to what the composer meant.

Some people have called it the best song ever written, others simply know it because it's been on the airwaves in one form or another for the better part of a century. However, since this is the only flugelhorn version I know in existence, and since I feel that more of Oscar Peterson's groove in my compilation could never ever hurt, I chose this one. Enjoy Mack the Knife by The Oscar Peterson Trio + One Clark Terry.

Bertje, that's Jazz VIII

While taking a trip to a record store to replace my James Brown albums that a friend (Ahem!!!) lost in Sweden, I heard a cool song being played on the store's sound system. I asked them who it was and told them I wanted to buy it, but they said that I should fight with the lady that was listening to it about that record because it was the last one they had. She didn't want it, so I picked it up.

Turns out the UK has spawned an answer to Harry Connick Jr. in the shape of Jamie Cullum, a now 26 year old piano whizz who also plays drums and guitar on occasion. He, much like Connick, started out young and recorded a few records on indie labels while still 19 years old. The man has a very pleasant voice and sticks to jazzy/funky/poppy repertoire, which makes him loved by a very diverse crowd the way I see it.

The album in question, Catching Tales, is not one that Connick would ever make though. The latter has done a New Orleans funk album, a poppier album, a big band crooners album and a jazz album. Jamie Cullum, by contrast, wrapped all of these things in one. If you go on-line and read reviews, you'll see some very very mixed feelings about this album. This is because it's completely eclectic. There's jazz standards in intimate settings, pop songs with a jazz touch, Steely Dan and Billy Joel influences, funky tunes with Allan Toussaint samples in it.

Therefore, the average critic that has his niche will say song so-and-so is brilliant, but such and such is irritating, and the other way around for another critic from another angle. I share Mr. Cullum's love for eclectic music however, so I tend to think the whole album is strong. Sure, it's a great big mess of styles, but that makes it interesting to listen to. The things that become apparent though are his love for music and his skill at his game. And that's what it's all about for me.

Many times he gets compared to Joss Stone, who is overrated, Connick, which is a logical comparison, but not quite justified, and Norah Jones and Diana Krall, both of whom have talent, but no balls or panache to make them sound interesting in the long run. Jamie Cullum however definitely sticks out of this crowd. Being a Harry Connick Jr. fan, this is a big statement coming from me. Mr. Connick has produced some very dubious work. I just think he ought to stick to what he knows best... Vocal Jazz and Big Band swing. His pop, funk and instrumental efforts just don't cut it. And I think Jamie Cullum does pull all of these elements off on this album.

The track I selected for this compilation is upbeat jazz with excellent piano bits in it, with a set of lyrics that are about a bad, horrible breakup. In an interview i saw with Cullum he said he liked the contrast in the song, and I'm inclined to agree.

Enjoy Nothing I Do. I know I did.

Cash is King

Now I've always been a Johnny Cash fan. Not just because of the blood and the mud and the beer in his voice, but also because of his various musical achievements later in life. A sixty-something year old country man who sits down and records songs by Nine Inch Nails, Nick Cave, U2, Tom Petty and Depeche Mode acoustically is someone to pay heed to. His voice was cracking at the seems in the end, and he's never been the finest guitar picker around, but by God, the man has lived and he habitually poored his whole life into the songs he sung.

Walk the Line is based on his autobiographies and stars Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon as John and June Cash. I'm not even gonna talk about this movie. If you like Johnny Cash, go see it. If you don't like Johnny Cash, go see it so you might learn something. 'Nuffsaid. The movie is impressive as hell, and I'd like to see some form of recognition for the leads. If you know Cash, you know he sounds unique. I didn't think it was possible, but Joaquin Phoenix pulls off a performance that is deeply impressive.

This movie also taught me a thing or two about Cash's life and music. It turns out that one my favourite songs is one of the first he wrote. In the movie there's one scene where he's doing his first audition and he gets told that gospel standards won't cut it, and that the A&R man wants to hear something that is his own, something real.

Cash: "There are some songs I wrote in the Air Force. Have you got something against the Air Force?"
A&R man: "No, I don't"
Cash: "Well, I do", and starts singing Folsom Prison Blues.

I hear the train a comin?
it?s rolling round the bend
and I ain?t seen the sunshine
since I don?t know when,
I?m stuck in Folsom prison,
and time keeps draggin? on
but that train keeps a rollin?
on down to San Anton..

When I was just a baby
my mama told me Son,
always be a good boy,
don?t ever play with guns.
But I shot a man in Reno
just to watch him die
When I hear that whistle blowing,
I hang my head and cry..

I bet there?s rich folks eating
in a fancy dining car
they?re probably drinkin? coffee
and smoking big cigars.
Well I know I had it coming,
I know I can?t be free
but those people keep a movin?
and that?s what tortures me...

Well if they?d free me from this prison,
if that railroad train was mine
I bet I?d move just a little
farther down the line
far from Folsom prison,
that's where I want to stay
and I?d let that lonesome whistle
blow my blues away

Like I said, Cash is King. Elvis ain't got nothing on the man. Ever.

Bertje, that's Jazz VII

Sometimes you hear something that you just can't believe. I've been telling anyone about a certain something that Arno put me on to, mainly to make myself believe too. Because it's a hard act to follow. He sent me a link to download some stuff from his website. A link that contained high-quality Soul, Funk, R&B, hip hop (although without that annoying rap stuff) and Jazz. All of this on two albums. And the voice...

I figured I had another Aretha Franklin on my hands. But maybe without the knack for such horrible pop songs as she did in the 80's. The singer on these albums has a good voice indeed. One that changes depending on the genre she's singing. A versatile voice. A voice black as strong coffee. And then there was the production.

All of these songs are just really very good and well produced. I can't help it. Now many of you might wonder who this wonder woman is. She's called Alice Russell. Alice Russell is not, as I would have liked to believe, a slightly corpulent black woman who started in a baptist church in Louisiana or somewhere south in the US.

We're talking about a small white chick from the UK. And she's no Joss bloody Stone either. The latter is a good singer, but the material she delivers is boring. Such is not the case for Alice Russell. Having listened to some of this stuff a lot, I actually think Alice deserves a spot on the Jazz compilation. You couldn't call her a straight jazz singer, but some of these songs hit the spot.

So I wanted to pick this song that was an immediate topic for debate. Is it jazz or not? So I figured I'd chose a lovely Bossa track instead called Sweet is the Air. That would immediately qualify as Jazz. Plus that first album is the most pleasant of the two. It's called Under The Munka Moon.

But then I got to thinking. And tapping my toes. The song High up on the Hook is just too cool for it's own good. It's off of Alice Russell's second album, My Favourite Letters. Frankly I think anyone who likes any kind of black music ought to go run off and buy both albums. And now I'll go sit in a corner and be ashamed of what I said with regards to white people and their inability to do jazz.

In the mean time, I decided to also check out a project Alice participated in called the Quantic Soul Orchestra. But more on that later.

Memory lane...

Last Christmas Eve, four days after my dad died, I decided that I wanted to visit an old buddy of mine I hadn't seen for the better part of two years. As I'd anticipated, he was indeed visiting his mom for Christmas in our home town, so I found him at home, happy to see me. We had a nice time. Some things don't change, so we drank a drink and shot the shit for a while. His dad had died some eight or nine years ago when I was still living in Holland, and I guess this time it was my turn.

I'd taken my dad's beat-up Toyota to his place, so when I got ready to go home, I stepped into that little car and fired up the stereo. Only one sole speaker was still working. The one to the front on the passenger side. What came out hit me like a brick though. My sister had stuck a tape in there with some Tom T Hall music on it. I guess it must've been one o'clock in the morning, but I decided to take that car for a spin to listen to some country music. I grew up on Tom T Hall, so that ride brought back a lot of memories.

So I was cruising along through the farm country I grew up in, in the dark with this simple country music blaring out of this lone speaker in this little heap of rust. And I cried. Because I realized then and there I'd never see my dad sit behind the wheel of a car again. But I had Tom T Hall to keep me company. The man tells simple stories, and he sings his poetry in his baritone to his simple country tunes. It sure felt real good to have that voice I'd grown up with with me in that car. It must have been the better part of twenty years since I last heard that tape, but it was like a homecoming.

Back in Sweden I immediately ordered four CDs, and I've gotten two of them. So I'd like to give you two of his tunes and their lyrics. Enjoy.

That's how I got to Memphis

If you love somebody enough
You'll follow wherever they go
That's how I got to Memphis
That's how I got to Memphis

If you love somebody enough
You'll go where your heart wants to go
That's how I got to Memphis
That's how I got to Memphis
I know if you'd seen her you'd tell me 'cause you are my friend
I've got to find her and find out the trouble she's in

If you tell me that she's not here
I'll follow the trail of her tears
That's how I got to Memphis
That's how I got to Memphis

She would get mad and she used to say
That she'd come back to Memphis someday
That's how I got to Memphis
That's how I got to Memphis

I haven't eaten a bite
Or slept for three days and nights
That's how I got to Memphis
That's how I got to Memphis

I've got to find her and tell her that I love her so
I'll never rest 'til I find out why she had to go

Thank you for your precious time
Forgive me if I start to cryin'
That's how I got to Memphis (x8)

Ballad of Forty Dollars

The man who preached the funeral said it really was a simple way to die
He laid down to rest one afternoon and never opened up his eyes
They hired me and fred and joe to dig the grave and carry up some chairs
It took us seven hours and I guess we must have drunk a case of beer

I guess I ought to go and watch them put him down but I don?t own a suit
And anyway when they start talking about the fire in hell, well, I get spooked
So, I?ll just sit here in my truck and act like I don?t know him when they pass
Anyway, when they?re all through I?ve got to go to work and mow the grass

Well, here they come and who?s that ridin? in that big ol? shiny limousine
Look at all that chrome, I do believe that that?s the sharpest thing I?ve seen
That must belong to his great uncle, someone said he owned a big ol? farm
When they get parked I?ll mosey down and look it over, that won?t do no harm

Well that must be the widow in the car and would you take a look at that
That sure is a pretty dress, you know some women do look good in black
Well, he?s not even in the ground and they say that his truck is up for sale
They say she took it pretty hard, but you can?t tell too much behind the veil

Well, listen ain't that pretty when the bugler plays the military taps
I think that when you?s in the war they always had to play a song like that
Well here I am and there they go and I guess you?d just call it my bad luck
I hope he rests in peace, the trouble is the fellow owes me forty bucks

Deliverance

Yesterday I saw that there movie "Deliverance", and while it sure is an accomplished movie, the redneck in me had to protest, ladies and gentlemen. I too come from a place where many God-fearing fishermen and farmers (the former complete with minor genetical defects and large groups of people with the same last name) roam the land, and not all is evil there. It feels as though one needs to take a stand for simple, God-fearing folk who accepted Jesus Christ as the Lord, the Son of God, their Saviour.

One could easily go back in music history to do just that. Many people associate country music with the likes of Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers or even worse, Shania Twain. But there are a good deal of bluegrass artists that pay hommage to the afforementioned simple, good hearted people of rural areas. One such example is the musical heritage of the beloved Louvin Brothers.

They did at some point in time sway from the Path of Righteousness in their career and indulged in worldly music such as their well known In the Pines. Surely these are great songs, but I don't know if I can really abide by worldly music. Satan is lurking, brothers and sisters, and we must be vigilant. I know that many ask what harm there is in a little worldly indulgence if it don't hurt none out there, but indulgence leads to sin which leads to damnation! Be mindful of these things, folks!

For those that want to avoid Satan in their record collections there is however plenty of good ol' God-fearing gospel music in the catalogue of the Louvin Brothers to go around. Songs about Jesus and the Gospel, songs about a straight life and goodness, songs of promise and love for the divine, songs about The Lord our Saviour Jesus Christ.

That is why I proudly present one of the true gems of this style. It's a song that has seen me through many hardships, a song of promise and everlasting bliss as long as you devote your life to the Service of the Lord... Please enjoy The family who prays. I hope you may find comfort in the words and harmonies of our brothers Charlie and Ira Louvin, may they rest in peace, and may their heritage deliver us from Sin.

Guess who?

Sometimes you hear stuff from people. I did recently buy an Mp3-player, not one o' them cool iPods, just a simple run-of-the-mill 1 GB player to make traveling by train, plane or automobile more bearable. However, I'm not one of them twenty-first century hipsters that do PodCasting, -Jacking, or -Sharing. I'm more old-fashioned than that.

The way I hear stuff from people is simple. I just sit down in their living room or car, and then we talk (as in converse) and listen to tunes. Sometimes we talk about tunes. And we drink coffee, vedge and listen to more tunes. That way (let's call it iCouching or iDriving) I've come across some really great music.

The other day, I heard an album with Latin music by a gentleman I'd never heard of. The owner had picked up a copy and I was immediately very impressed with what I heard. Upon trying to google for the man, I found out he wasn't from Spain or Latin-America. That's all I'm gonna say. I'm not gonna mention the name, album or song title.

Please enjoy fairly_difficult.mp3. I almost made the mistake of posting it without editing the Tags. That would have been a silly challenge, now wouldn't it?

Wishing you a peaceful night

Önska dig en stilla natt
även en juldagsmorgon glimmar
Finn en plats där det är varmt
Härlig blir jorden, några timmar
Välsigna barnet och hans mor
Hoppas att far är hyfsat nykter
Ge en stund av sinnesro
Till dem som grubblar alltför mycket
Önska dig inget eller allt
Önska dig en stilla natt

Nu tändas tusen juleljus
Och bakom fönstret skymtar prakten
Du kom ihåg och tänd ett ljus
För dem som behöver änglavakten
Önska dig inget eller allt
Önska dig en stilla natt

Bertje, that's Jazz VI

It's been a while since I wrote something about jazz. About bulls and walking, about the notion that music should be beautiful and that no amount of over-intellectualizing can change that, not even for Jazz. I read an article today that the greatest provocation in this society is positivism at the moment. Two Danes wrote a book about the way we view art, music and society, and I can agree with the basic premesis. The man reviewing the book said that with the phrase "It's important to go to church every Sunday, even more so when you feel uninspired and not involved" one of these Danes had written the most provocative thing in Scandinavia in some years.

So I'll join the man. Music should be beautiful. One of the bands that consistently have produced beautiful music over the last thirteen years is Bo Kaspers Orkester. I got my first really dirty copy of a BKO album in 1997 from a gentleman called Senad Angelov. A Swede who was doing the expat thing in Amsterdam at the time. I've sadly lost contact with him, in spite of him having moved to Stockholm again. We live no more than 15 km apart. But one of his gifts to me was BKO's music.

The albums were Amerika and På Hotell, and contained jazz inspired Swedish pop. Actually I later learned the term for their music was eclectic. In spite of me not speaking a word of Swedish at the time, I loved their music for the swing, the feel and the absolute craftsmanship that the musicians showed. Great stuff.

People in Sweden call BKO a boring band, a band for pensioners. Too nice, too friendly. Those people should go blow it out the other hole because if you really listen to BKO's lyrics you'll find that apart from lovely and beautiful they can be insanely cynical, hard, rough and critical too. I guess it's the same crowd that calls Eminem the fuck-you man because they don't bother listening to the man's message. Or perhaps lack the capacity to do so.

So, I'll put up a song by Bo Kaspers Orkester from their first album, Söndag i Sängen. It was released in 1992, and contains samples and themes from great jazz songs. Det går en man omkring i mina skor contains a sample from Ella Fitzgerald's Too damn hot, the song Simtur i viken is definitely based on a theme from All blues off Miles Davis' Kind of Blue. They didn't just jack it though, both songs are a BKO original and good to boot. These songs do fall in the humourous or nice category. A man ranting about how all his alleged sins were committed by the man walking in his shoes, and another about how nice it is to swim in the Baltic sea.

However the song I want to post is of a different kind. It's a bit depressing. It's a slow, jazzy eulogy to a dead friend. Since I've recently been in the market for thoughts about death and depression, I would like to share some of it. But no worries, because it's a beautiful tune. In spite of the subject matter I'd say it lifts my spirits when I listen to it. I've also translated the lyrics for non-Swedish speakers.

Jorden Snurrar - The earth turns

Farewell my dear friend, if you're off somewhere else.
The flowers I picked have to do for a wraith.
You know how it is and in church all the benches are empty.
I think it is written when one loses all,
in time one gets it again thousandfold.
And the earth still revolves at yesterday's rate,
Just you wait, I'll get to you soon.

But thank you my friend for the time we were two,
they're digging your grave while I stand here and watch.
We have drunk together so often,
we were almost like brothers.
I'd forgotten what a man can take,
so remember now you've come to pass
that the earth still revolves at yesterday's rate.
Just you wait, I'll get to you soon.

I remember how we daydreamed away,
over foreigns shores and to
girls who tasted of chocolate.
Who's gonna dream with me today?

Farewell dear old friend, farewell my dear friend,
cause people like us are never asked
to sing in heavenly choirs
on the day of days.
So I pray for your soul though I normally don't
I've prayed all the prayers I learned as a kid,
and the earth revolves at yesterday's rate.
If you wait I'll be there soon.

Stephen Simmonds

Recently this site has been looking a bit Zen. People ask me what's goin3g on but like I said earlier, I seem to have lost my mojo. I've been feeling mis-placed in Sweden, my father is dangerously ill and my mother is waiting for a rather nasty operation. All in all, these are tumultuous times, and this is not the kind of blog where I pour my heart out. I'm not that narcissistic yet.

One thing that has inspired me recently was a Stephen Simmonds gig. I'm not going to launch into lengthy descriptions. The gig was mostly acoustic. There was ample energy and fun going on and he had to give three encores and got 200+ Swedes to get up and sheik der bhouty. That's an accomplishment any day of the week right there. Then the keyboardist was great too. He needs to be mentioned. Something about a grinning black dude with a hat on behind an organ... Can't help but appreciate it even if he wasn't such a damn fine player.

Now I've posted one song by Stephen earlier, and thanks to Arno who introduced me to him I've been a long standing follower of the man. However this gig made me think and rethink his qualities as a musician and entertainer. So far he's made three albums that I know of, Spirit Tales, Alone and For Father, and I can recommend you run off and buy some, and catch him live if you got the chance. But I'll spare you further hogwash on this, and I'll just post one more of his songs. This one made a particular impression on me.

For Father

Words I thought but never said,
keeping me here in my bed
From now on to the end of time,
they're prisoners in my mind

Lord I'm so tired I walk in the dark
I sing the saddest song, cos here I'm nothing
Lord I'm so tired, Lord I'm so lost
Let me go beyond, cos here I'm nothing

I know you feel like you don't belong,
When all that you had is gone
I know you think that you're all alone,
but that doesn't make it so
It feels like nothing matters at all anymore

I escape but can't ignore
I've never been hurt like this before
You're a part of who I am
It's so clear now I understand

Words unsaid and things undone,
An ending when you just begun
It feels like nothing matters at all any more,
It's like nothing matters at all
And I'm tired of holding on
Being right, being wrong
It's like nothing matters at all any more,
It's like nothing matters at all

Bertje, that's Jazz V

One of the first things I've written when I started on Jazz was the story about the bulls and how walking down the hill would be key in being able to shag them all. Judging by his career and the music off his 2000 album "Joao voz e Violao", Joao Gilberto embodies this principle. He started playing at 14, managed to be the leader of a band at 15, and went off to play gigs at 18. He then got dumped by the band because apparantly he was an eternal slacker, never getting there in time, failing to show up and all that.

After being fired from a band he drifted around in Brasil, staying at friends and acquaintances for almost ten years without even an address to his name. He smoked copious amounts of ganja and really was lethargic for a long period, untill he got a mentor, laid off the Mary-Jane and started making music seriously. In '59 he recorded his debut album and then did some stuff after that, but he's always been regarded as an eccentric and a fluke. He was however brilliant, so after many many years on the music scene a whole score of artists are influenced by him, even though his own record sales have never matched those artists'. The Brazilians at least recognized his influence on their music when they gave him the nickname "The Legend".

In the year of our Lord 2000 he did something utterly brilliant. He released an album where he played Brazilian Jazz standards by a whole score of composers. Not just Jobim, who is so defining of Bossa that he almost became a cliche, but also other, less known ones (outside of Brazil, I guess). On this album, "Jo?o voz e Viol?o", he flies solo. At the age of 68, he records a whole album, in real-time, live, alone with one acoustic guitar in his lap. It reminds a bit of the "American Recordings" that Johnny Cash did before his death. And we all know Cash is King, so more power to Jo?o for doing this.

The result was 35 minutes of utter brilliance. The album swings like no other, his nasal, understated singing doing it's thing against the backdrop of some really fucking amazing guitar work. Excuse me my French, but this album is so good that I can't express it any other way. I've come to the conclusion that I just love old fogeys, pushing 70, sitting down with a guitar and doing the thing they've excelled at for 40 years. Shows all of them young punks that there is so much more to this music thing than rock'n'roll, testosterone and the right hair-do.

Now I'm almost a bit sad that my pick for this compilation is actually a Jobim tune. It's like doing a compilation on Classical music and putting Mozart in there. It's a given. It's predictable. But the fact remains that what Mozart is to classical music, Jobim is to Bossa. He's simply the man. For those that hate cliches, at least I didn't pick Jobim & Getz doing "The girl from Ipanema", OK?

So without further ado, I herewith present the next song on this compilation: Chega de Saudade performed by Jo?o Gilberto, written by Antonio Carlos Jobim.

Enjoy. I know I did.

Bertje, that's Jazz IV

Now I would argue that the lady in the picture is the best female singer that's ever graced this planet with her presence. Hands down. In all genres. Whatever. Her voice always sounds amazing, and you always felt it was a complete joy for her to sing. One of the CD's at home describes how she usually sung to kids in the street. Kids would follow her around and she would love to sing to them, and that story always makes me want to come from her neck of the woods. Nothing wrong with my mother's singing, but I have my preferences.

So having said that, I was digging through the stuff I have of Ella Fitzgerald and chose the one that in my book is least jazzy of all. It's a song that's been around the block. Hell, even I sang it when I had a brief stint in a choir last year. It's an old Gershwin tune, and in my less than humble opinion Ella and Louis Armstrong's cooperation yielded the best version I've heard of this song.

So I hope you'll enjoy Summertime. I hate getting sentimental, but this one is so good it never fails to bring tears to my eyes as soon as she opens her mouth after the intro. Her voice is something else. Detached and nonchalant in her phrasing, yet precise and with great timing. Well... It's like Stevie Wonder sang in Sir Duke: "With a voice like Ella's ringing out, there's no way the band could lose". And in the seventies, Stevie was still very right about many things.

To demonstrate just how different versions can be, just as a curiosa, also have a listen to this version by a gentleman named George Benson. Just goes to show that re-makes can be far from pointless.

Which of the two is best?

Bertje, that's jazz III

One of the jazz records I've been listening to most over the past two years is one by Chet Baker. Chet Baker is someone who's been considered a second- or even third class jazz musician, and everyone is always comparing him to Miles Davis, and many people say he's a wee short of the mark in his lyricism. Now I wouldn't be me if I didn't disagree.

Firstly, aside from moments of brilliance, Miles has produced a lot of crap in his life time too, but secondly I think that Chet Baker's detached, cool swing sound hits the spot for me, even if it isn't as "complex" as some other contemporary trumpet-players. I again refer to walking down the hill as opposed to running.

All this aside, I think that Chet Baker is a thouroughly enjoyable singer. The album that taught me that was "It could happen to you - Chet Baker Sings". However the soundtrack to the movie "Let's get lost" is also quite good. It was hard for me to choose a track from "It could happen to you" though, because 9 out of 10 tracks are utterly brilliant. His fragile yet cool voice and simple delivery are quite remarkable, and the backing band produces a driving swing that even makes the ballads head-boppers.

Now his voice and delivery are something that many people might have to get used to, but I love it. Then again, I've been known to like such strange things as Donald Fagen's singing. But on this album it all just all works. The swing, the cool, the driving rhythms and his timing on the vocals as well as certain intervals he chooses just really cook up a jazz record that suits most moods I can think of ever having. And every standard he renders instantly becomes owned by Chet, which is quite the accomplishment in and of itself.

As said, it was a difficult choice. "Do it the hard way", "The more I see you", "Everything happens to me" "Dancing on the Ceiling" (no, *not* the fucking awful Lionel Ritchie song), and for that matter the rest of the album are just great tracks. But I wanted to pick one that features both Chet's singing and his trumpet playing. So I'm kind of hoping I picked th right one. You tell me.

Please enjoy You're driving me crazy by Chet Baker. I never said *all* white people were clueless when it comes to Jazz. As far as I'm concerned, this track has pretty much got all it's about nailed down.

Bertje, that's Jazz II

Now I'm all jazzed up about jazz. That must have been the lamest pun since Arne Hegefors, but it's true. I've been listening through some stuff and found a good quartet to continue this with. Mr. Oscar Peterson also recorded a lot of cuts with his Trio. He started out playing boogie woogie and swing in the late thirties, and was a great fan of Nat King Cole. Usually when he got together with Ed Tighpen on drums and Ray Brown on bass, they produced some of the most swinging stuff around. He is one of the best jazz pianists I know about, also due to his ability to hold on to a groove even at 100 notes a second.

Now sometimes they would collaborate with others. One of the people they cut an album with was Milt Jackson. That guy is the prime Vibraphone jazz player of all times, and he is a bit of a legend in and of himself. He played with them all. Cotrane, Davis, Gillespie, Monk, you name 'm. So in '61 he joined Oscar Peterson and his trio for the album Very Tall.

And that title is very very fitting indeed. It's a tall order, but we're taller, the Streets would say. Great stuff. And all of the tracks on the album have that Swing that is Peterson's trademark. Now usually I find the vibraphone to be a bit of a geeky instrument. It reminisces of Elevator music. But in this case, I can definately live with it.

So the second track on my crusade for Jazz is the Oscar Peterson Trio with Milt Jackson, off the album Very Tall I present my favourite track: Work Song. Seven minutes and thirty-five seconds worth of instrumental jazz that's completely happening.

Knock yourself out.

Bertje, that's jazz I

There's a kid I mentioned earlier on this site. He's the twelve year old son of a buddy of mine and he means quite a lot to me. His mother hates jazz, but yesterday I had the opportunity to watch him and the band he's in play at a jazz contest. Six kids between 10 and 15 playing very nice funk-ridden jazz in a competition which featured eight other bands with kids between 15 and 19 that all played modern jazz laced with angry bebop and, worse, fusion.

Now I liked Hugo's set. So did the crowd. Obviously they didn't win, because I guess the jazz was not jazz enough according to the jury. But let me tell you, last years winners were there and played while the jury debated the winner, and they spelled out who was gonna win this year too.

Picture, if you will, four middle-class white kids with blue eyes and blonde hair that rip through Coltrane pieces with flawless precision. Coltrane was on heroine, Coltrane was angry at the world. Coltrane was an idiot who played panic-music. Even if you want to emulate that, don't do it at age 17. Four introverted teenagers, no contact with the audience, looking at eachother as if they were so goddamn cool. As if they wanted to say "Look guys, I can play 100 notes a second an make 'm all sound kind of angry! Aren't I a wizz kid?"

No, boys. You're idiots. Technically sound idiots, but idiots nonetheless. But then again, that's what you get when you hand over quintessential black music to a bunch of middle aged white people in the sixties. They start intellectualising it, turn it into dung and voila, thirty years later whole generations of white boys are dazed, confused and way out there.

So his mother, Liisa, and I looked each other in the eyes, and I understood perfectly why she "hates jazz". It's because they over-feed you this kind of crap. Instrumental masturbation. Yuck. So today I was also at a jazz gig with some friends. And a 66 year old guy called Svante Turesson played standards with his four fellow musicians. The band was older. Didn't have much to prove. Didn't think their penis-size would increase if they played fast. Jazz the way jazz is supposed to be... With a groove, feeling and swing.

This all reminded me of a story about two bulls, one young and one old, sitting on a hill overlooking a heard of cows. The young one says to the old one "Let's run down the hill and fuck us a cow!", to which the old one replies "How about we walk down the hill and fuck 'm all?". It's the same thing with Jazz, people. Why not walk and fuck 'm all? There is no need to run. And these youngsters were running so fast that I'm figuring by the time they stop, they didn't get any at all.

So in order to prove to Liisa that there is jazz that is not like what we experienced yesterday and to give Hugo something to think about, I'd like to offer some of what I consider to be good jazz on this site. And I'm starting off in the Forties. With a gentleman called Nat King Cole. Back in the day when he was still recording music with his trio consisting of him on vocals and piano, one bass-player and one guitarist. That's all. That's his best stuff. So in December 1940 that trio recorded this cut of a song that has been heard in many versions since then. This is one of the best ones.

Please enjoy listening to the Nat King Cole Trio's Sweet Lorraine. It's a simple tune. It's a great tune.

Billy Connolly on Funk

While browsing around for information on the Average White Band, I found this little MP3 on their home-page which they seem to use as an opener for their concerts.

AWB and Billy Connolly are all Scots, maybe that's why they chose it. I just find Billy Connolly one of the best comedians around. The man is hilarious. Have a listen to this clip. The man is on the money... Fo'sho'.

Lee Dorsey...

Recently I've been buying melancholic, depressing and generally low-key music. Turin Brakes, Ben Folds, Kings of Convenience... All very good, but not really party music. So to lighten up a bit I've been digging into Lee Dorsey's catalogue.

Now, in accordance with Arno's tip and some reviews I read, I'm still looking for the 2005 re-release of Yes we can/Night people, which features two of his 70's albums with Allen Toussaint with the Meters backing Dorsey up. If anyone has an idea for a Dutch or Swedish site that has it, please let me know. The man just has a cool voice. And he plays cool songs.

Lottie Mo was his first hit in 1961, but this take is a version done in 1968. I don't know much about it except that it feels like the Meters were playing on this cut. So have fun with the 1968 version of Lottie Mo.

Rockin' the Suburbs...

To be honest, I've never payed attention to Ben Folds Five. I don't know why. But recently I copied the MP3's of "Songs for Silverman" from Alex, and was so impressed that I ran off and bought the album promptly.

A lot has been written about "Songs for Silverman", some find it sappy, some love it, some hate it... I think that Ben Folds has matured, and it suits him well. Period. So I was a wee worried about ordering "Rockin' the Suburbs", but for 7 Euros who cares really?

The result is however that I'm really really impressed. So impressed as a matter of fact that I'll delve into the Ben Folds Five catalogue and order some of that too. Alex was indeed right.... The man is brilliant. His two solo albums provoke a lot of emotions and both feel genuinly very human in their own way. Additionally I just like the fact that he's a bit of a geek. A multi-instrumentalist with very little rock-star attitude and a lot of talent, not to mention big glasses.

So please enjoy the song Fred Jones Part 2. It's bleak, depressing and totally beautiful.

Fred Jones Part 2
fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
there's an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall
he has packed all his things
and he's put them in boxes
things that remind him that life has been good
twenty five years he's worked at the paper
a man's here to take him downstairs
and i'm sorry mr jones, it's time

there was no party and there were no songs
cause today's just a day like the day that he started
and no one is left here that knows his first name
yeah, and life barrels on like a runaway train
where the passengers change
they don't change anything
you get off
someone else can get on
and i'm sorry mr jones, it's time

the streetlight it shines through the haze
casting lines on the floor
and lines on his face
he reflects on the day...

fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
projecting some slides onto a plain white canvas
and traces it
fills in the spaces
he turns off the slides
and it doesn't look right
yeah, and all of these bastards have taken his place
he's forgotten but not yet gone
and i'm sorry mr jones
and i'm sorry mr jones
and i'm sorry mr jones, it's time

Riot on an empty Street.

So here's an album I've been refusing to buy. Because EMI only released it as Copy Controlled CD's in Scandinavia. And I see that as an infringement on my right to fair use, as well as the CD being of inferior quality. But I think I'll order one anyway. I've of course downloaded the album illegally, because Copy Control doesn't work at all. It's just a way of them selling us shit of bad quality. But it doesn't feel right. I need to support these guys.

Why? I've written about Kings of Convenience earlier. I've been a great fan of their understated soft manner of revolution since the first time I heard them on the radio in 2000. I'm simply in love with that band. They're not rockers or typical entertainment-business people. They're musicians. Real live ones.

So this new Album, "Riot on an empty street" is brilliant. I'll have to buy it, even if it is in a format that I hate record companies for trying to shove down our throat. Please enjoy two tracks, Homesick and Sorry or Please. They're great. If you think so too, run off and buy the album.

Homesick
I lose some sales
and my boss won't be happy
but I can't stop listening to the sound
of two soft voices blended in perfection
from the reels of this record that I found

every day there's a boy in the mirror
asking me
what are you doing here
finding more that previous motifs
growing increasingly unclear

I travelled far and I burned all the bridges
I believed as sooned as I hit land
all the other
options held before me
wither in the light of my plan

so I lose some sales
and my boss won't be happy
but there's only one thing on my mind
searching boxes underneath the counter
on a chance that on a tape I'd find

a song for
someone who needs somewhere
to long for

homesick
cause I no longer know
where home is

Two new ones...

There's a record shop in Stockholm called Pet Sounds. I've been buying the odd record there because they tend to be well informed. It's not my favourite place, but it beats a lot of the competition. Recently I found out that they were named after the album "Pet Sounds" by the Beach Boys. Some people said it was one of the worlds most well-known albums, some say it's one of the best albums ever released, and some say it's simply something one must have.

So I picked up a copy at the same shop. And boy, do I want to return it. It only cost 11 Euro's, but frankly I wouldn't want to get it if they paid me for it. It sucks. I've been skeptical of so-called "best albums ever" before, but I've always seen why the albums in question are good. Beatles' "Rubber Soul", Sly & The Family Stone's "There's a riot going on" and Stevie Wonder's "Songs in the Key of Life" are such albums that will never be my favourites, but I can definately understand what the brilliance is.

Not so for Pet Sounds. It sucks ass. The lyrics are bland and all cliches, the music I don't even want to talk about, and I really hate Brian Wilson's voice. Cut a long story short: Don't ever buy it. Matter of fact, if you see someone whipping it out at a party, run away because you're mixing with the wrong crowd. Phew. Plus I've always hated hippies, and Mr. Wilson wrote sleeve notes in 1990 (!) in which he was still going on about "prayer sessions", "maximum love vibes" and "spiritual satisfaction". Give me a fucking break, allright, buddy? There's a number of reasons I like Radiohead's "we hope that you choke", but I just got one more.

At the same shop, I did however see a re-issue of a Lee Dorsey album, his 1965 "Ride your Pony". Made one year before the Beach Boys spawned their abomination, it surely stands tall even today. One of the people behind it is Allen Toussaint who also did a lot of work with The Meters, and is considered to be one of the founding fathers of the New Orleans funk/soul sound.

This re-release is done by Sundazed, which are the same people who've been putting re-mastered Meters' records on the street again such as the brilliant "Rejuvenation". In this case that means that they also included no less than 11 bonus tracks, including the somewhat sought after "Four corners - pt 1 & 2". Lee Dorsey does the whole thing with the same understated delivery we know from "Working in a coal mine" and it works brilliantly. It's an album that squarely kicks the shit out of anything the Beach Boys could ever conjure up during their stint in the music business.

So, in order to give you something to compare, I'll post Brian Wilson's self proclaimed favourite track here, and my personal favourite off the Lee Dorsey album and leave it up to y'all to decide who' da man... Please enjoy The Beach Boys' "Caroline No" and Lee Dorsey's "Get out of my life Woman".

Keep the Soul Alive 15

Stephen Simmonds is a Swede. Nonetheless he's made some pretty amazing and soulful tunes. So as the very last song on this compilation I'd like to offer one off his album "Alone". I believe Alone was released under the title "Spirit Tales" in the States, but I'm not sure. Either which way, please enjoy Get Down by Stephen Simmonds.

That concludes the compilation. The playlist is as follows:

01 - Propellerheads - 360 degrees
02 - Bill Withers - Kissing my Love
03 - Sir Joe Quarterman and Free Soul - The way they do my life
04 - Prince - Head
05 - Isaac Hayes - Feel like making love
06 - The Meters - Just kissed my Baby
07 - Erykah Badu - Sometimes
08 - Lewis Taylor - Bittersweet
09 - Stephen Simmonds - Get Down
10 - D'Angelo - Brown Sugar
11 - Jill Scott - Bedda at Home
12 - Sly and the Family Stone - Family Affair
13 - Bill Withers - Grandma's Hands
14 - J. J. Cale - Let me do it to you
15 - The Blind Boys of Alabama - The last time

I hope you can enjoy this compilation. For my buddy Michel I can say that the next project is definately Jazz. :-)

Has Been

Lately, I've been talking to Alex about music. And it's a crying shame that I have to admit he's right. I've been listening to the new Coldplay album, X & Y, and frankly it sucks. Much as he told me. Then I've been listening to Ben Folds' "Songs for Silverman". Ben Folds, whom I've always disliked, actually wrote a very, very good album with Songs. As a matter of fact, I think I'll run off and buy it. So Alex was right on Two counts.

And recently, as a Canadian colleague of mine said I should download a particular album I remember thinking that he was bullshitting. Nobody could seriously dig that guy making an album. And I was wrong again. William Shatner, yes, captain James T. Kirk, has released an album. The affair is called "Has Been" and is produced by none other than Ben Folds. And it's not a joke. It offers Ben Folds melodic talents together with Shatner's boozy-suave voice to create a kind of film noir effect that's really very cool. Besides, there's some great lyrics on this album.

Therefore I'll post the song That's me Trying here. It's a tragic number about an attempt of a father to reconcile with his daughter. If you listen closely, you'll hear Aimee Mann whizzing by as well...

That's me Trying

I got your address from the phone book at the library
Wandered in, looked you up and you were there
Weird that you've been living, maybe, 2 miles away for the best part of 20 years
You must be, what, in your early forties now
If I remember,
You were born in June or was it May?
Eisenhower was the president although it may have been JFK

Years of silence
Not enough who could blame us giving up?
Above the quiet there's a buzz
That's me trying

You still working in that store on ventura?
You still going with--no, that's not fair
I know I haven't been the very best of dads
I'll hold my hand up there
The reason that I'm writing is that i'd like for us to meet
Get a little daughter dad action going soon
We can put things behind us
Eat some pizza, drink some beer
You still see your sister Lemli?
Bring her, too

Years of silence, not enough
Who could blame us giving up?
Above the quiet there's a buzz
That's me trying

But I don't want to talk about any of that bad stuff
Why I missed out on your wedding and your high school graduation
I'd like to explain, but I can't
So let's keep things neutral
Stick to topics that won't bug us

How 'bout this?
Let's choose a book and we'll read it before we meet
Then we can sit down at a restaurant
Have a look at the menu and talk about it while we eat
See, if we never had a problem
Then that's what life would be like
Easy
Uncomplicated
Cool

So let's just pretend that the past didn't happen
I don't really like thrillers as well.
I don't want to know if I've got grandchildren
no need to tell me where I went wrong
I don't want to know what happened in your thirties
You wanna try 'cold mountain'?
Or is that too long??

Years of silence, not enough
Who could blame us giving up?
Above the quiet there's a buzz
That's me trying
I'm trying

-- William Shatner and Ben Folds

Keep the Soul Alive 14

Lewis Taylor is someone whom I've gotten to know through Arno. He's a UK-based multi instrumentalist that has been recording for quite a while now. People have described him as "Prince on a roll" and such.

The track for today is loaded with Atmosphere with a capital A. Not only that, I think there's some amazing ear-candy going on throughout the entire track. It's off the self-titled 1996 album, and I must say he makes interesting music.

Therefore, please enjoy:

Bittersweet by Lewis Taylor.

Bad love got me sick inside
There ain't no other are you satisfied
People over there talking 'bout me
Don't wanna know the things that they said
All my friends have up and left me
Darling I deserve to wake up dead

If it weren't for how you loved me - bittersweet
Got me doing things that I don't wanna do
Bittersweet 'cos it gets salty sometimes
The way you laugh at me when I make love to you

I can't stand it - don't stop
Got me in a mood
Wait a minute baby
Ok woman you're so rude
Everybody thinks I'm crazy
They say how do you stand to be in so much pain
I pick up the telephone to say it's over
Soon as I hear you talk it's started all over again

And the way that you love me - bittersweet
Got me seeing things that I don't wanna see
Bittersweet 'cos it gets salty sometimes
The way you're laughing when you're making love to me

You, you got me crawling on the floor
I never felt like this before
But I've read about it in a book somewhere
I just don't know what to do
You tell me I can leave if I want too
But you know I'm always gonna be right there
Girl I don't wanna go home
I just can't leave it alone
You could be making someone else feel just like me
You know how I feel about you baby

Raining in Baltimore

Raining in Baltimore
This circus is falling down on it's knees
The big top is crumbling down
It?s raining in baltimore fifty miles east
Where you should be, no one's around

I need a phone call
I need a raincoat
I need a big love
I need a phone call

These train conversations are passing me by
And I don?t have nothing to say
You get what you pay for
But I just had no intention of living this way

I need a phone call
I need a plane ride
I need a sunburn
I need a raincoat

And I get no answers
And I don?t get no change
It?s raining in baltimore, baby
But everything else is the same

There?s things I remember and things I forget
I miss you I guess that I should
Three thousand five hundred miles away
But what would you change if you could?

I need a phone call
Maybe I should buy a new car
I can always hear a freight train if I listen real hard
And I wish it was a small world
Because I?m lonely for the big towns
I?d like to hear a little guitar
I think it?s time to put the top down

I need a phone call
I need a raincoat

Keep the Soul Alive 13

So I figured the compilation was done. But then I came to the conclusion that 53 minutes was a wee on the lean side. So I decided to add some more tracks.

These people, the propellerheads, really aren't a soul/R&B/funk act. Their album decksanddrumsandrockandroll is a mix of techno, quotes from old spy movies, acid funk and other black music. It's a really weird album with excellent tips on the correct use of microphones, a version of "History repeating" that's hilarious and other, stranger, tracks.

So they ventured into the realm of hip-hop/funk as well with the song I'd like to present here. It's called 360 degrees and I want to put it on this compilation because it's just plain good fun. The track has such astounding lyrics as "who wants to live the gutter life, we've got sidewalks to walk, baby. I need a chick with big potatoes to mash, baby" and the rhythm section on the track is dominated by the sound of a skateboard in a half-pipe. Plus they've done some really great organ work.

So please enjoy the thirteenth track on the compilation: Propellerheads' 360 degrees.

Different.

They seem to grow in bushels at the moment. Friends that think. One of them isn't quite satisfied with the current course of life and considering something completely different.

Another friend, who's a twelve year old, disses the very idea of a Kent record because mom and dad say so. To be frank, I think the first might get something out of these lyrics, and the second ought to have a listen before judging.

Interestingly, Kent is a slang word from the band's home town of Eskilstuna that signifies being an outsider or being different. Please download and enjoy a song from one of Sweden's better rock bands, Kent. They ought to have quit two albums ago, but the stuff before is very very good. Here is OWC

A rough translation for those that don't speak Swedish:

I listen for the rain
Electricity in the air
and it was so long ago
I had forgotten
how it feels
to come home

Collecting thoughts in defense
on my newly made bed
I'm making plans
With a shaven head
I stand poised
on my willing legs
Would you say
it is time to leave this place?

Long December

So I got a buddy that's doing a lot of thinking. About Love, Life and the Universe. Lord knows I've done a lot of thinking too in my life about exactly those subjects. I guess everyone does sooner or later. Something that's always been with me the past ten years is a band called Counting Crows.

There's something about country-related music that just really works well for me at times like that, and it's getting more so all the time. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe that's why happy 15-year olds listen to Kylie Minogue's latest dance hit instead. Maybe you just don't get it until you've got some scar tissue on the soul.

Now my buddy doesn't listen to country music. But I hope this song can be of some help anyway. Besides, strictly speaking a these people hover in the grey area between country and rock. Please enjoy the Counting Crows' A Long December

A long december and there?s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can?t remember the last thing that you said as you were leavin?
Now the days go by so fast

And it?s one more day up in the canyons
And it?s one more night in hollywood
If you think that I could be forgiven...i wish you would

The smell of hospitals in winter
And the feeling that it?s all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl

And it?s one more day up in the canyons
And it?s one more night in hollywood
If you think you might come to california...i think you should

Drove up to hillside manor sometime after two a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her

And it?s been a long december and there?s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can?t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass

And it?s one more day up in the canyon
And it?s one more night in hollywood
It?s been so long since I?ve seen the ocean...i guess I should
-- From "Recovering the Satellites"

Keep the Soul Alive 12

A couple of days ago, the father of a friend of mine passed away. A good man, who had had various problems with his health and who's now no longer with us. As always, this kind of thing put me in a pensive mood. I had made a picture of him playing a round of solitaire, and one of the prominent things in this picture were the hands. Now hands are a funny thing, aren't they? There's a Dutch guy who mentions hands in lyrics. "en ook de handen van mijn vader vergeet ik op den duur" which means "'In the long run I'll also forget my father's hands".

I do hope he's wrong, because I have a particular attachment to hands. One of the things I remember of my grandmother is the way her hands kneaded the steaming hot mass on the kitchen table when she was making fudge. They would get red and obviously very warm. And there are my father's hands. He always had workers' hands. Big ones, strong with black rims under the nails from engine grease and diesel. And he still does tout a very firm handshake even today, after many physical ailments.

The other day I had a talk with a Swede who had never shaken his fathers hands. They always hug. And I can't help thinking that's a shame. A handshake tells a lot about a person, and can convey a lot of feelings and information. I'm happy I can still shake my father's hand from time to time. There's a lot of love and respect in there from my side.

Of course, my mother's hands are something I think of too within this context. The fingers are flattened and scarred from decades of working, at first on the farm, later in the house and of taking care of all of us. They are warm and sometimes slightly swollen, and generally have a lot of character. They would always give me cookies and tea at 15.40 in the afternoon, and they comforted me when I got beaten in school.

So my friend doesn't have his father's hands anymore. And I'm sorry for that. I hope he won't forget them and that he can think of them fondly...

All of this leads us to the last song for the compilation. I've been listening to it quite a lot and it allows me to remember the people I care about. It's got to be one of the most beautiful in memoriam songs in existence. Poetic and down to earth at the same time, it makes you aware that small things can have great impact. Furthermore it's living proof that not all soul, R&B and funk is without substance or depth.

I know I already mentioned the artist on this compilation previously, but I need to include this song. Please download and enjoy Bill Withers' Grandma's Hands. Interesting detail is that the intro was used by Blackstreet feat Dr. Dre on the track No Diggity. The original is much more appealing in my book.

Grandma's hands
Clapped in church on Sunday morning
Grandma's hands
Played the tambourine so well
Grandma's hands
Used to issue out a warning
She'd say,
Billy don't you run so fast
Might fall on a piece of glass
Might be snakes there in that grass
Grandma's hands

Grandma's hands
Soothed a local unwed mother
Grandma's hands
Used to ache sometimes and swell
Grandma's hands
Used to lift her face and tell her,
Baby, Grandma understands
That you really love that man
Put yourself in Jesus hands
Grandma's hands

Grandma's hands
Used to hand me piece of candy
Grandma's hands
Picked me up each time I fell
Grandma's hands
Boy, they really came in handy
She'd say
Matty don' you whip that boy
What you want to spank him for?
He didn' drop no apple core
But I don't have Grandma anymore

If I get to Heaven I'll look for
Grandma's hands

Speed Brass

It must have been about five years ago I first went down to Varberg, Sweden. A Canadian friend of mine and his wife were visiting some friends in Varberg. Erik and Ylva. Erik was a health inspector. He used to love closing down schools because the buildings weren't fit to teach in, and then close the barracks they put up as well for similar reasons. A bit of a bastard, but a really sympathetic one. Erik used to cook vegetarian meals without any added salt. Erik listened to World Music.

If it was weird, Erik embodied it. One of the things that he made Colin and I listen to is Fanfare Ciocarlia. Fanfare Ciocarlia is a band of 12 gypsies, 11 on brass and one on bass-drum. They come from the border between Moldavia and Rumania, and they've been playing the same music for generations. When I first heard it, I didn't know what hit me. The play incredibly fast music which is laced with every emotion under the sun. One doesn't quite know if one must cry or laugh when listening to their stuff.

The thing is that I never really saw Erik again, and I had forgotten what the band was called. But Lisa took me to a store called Multi-kulti this weekend. They specialise in all kinds of world-music, jazz, blues, ethnic and whatnot. So I started talking about this orchestra with the guy behind the counter, and he immediately gave me the right band and right album. I recognised the picture on the front of the CD. So I bought it, and have been listening to the madness since then.

It's fast, furious, powerful and completely crazy. So here I'd like to offer three tracks for your downloading pleasure: Ah Ya Bibi, Ciocarlia Si Suite and Hora Cu Strigaturii. Enjoy them, if you can.

In the car-stereo II

While visiting one of my buddies in the Netherlands, I obtained a copy of a double CD called "The Trip" that the lads of Saint Etienne put together. I've never really listened to Saint Etienne, but this collection is something else. They've collected nearly 50 tracks of 60's and early 70's music on two CD's that are utterly brilliant. And they seem to work extraordinarily well in the car to boot.

Somehow they managed to put a face on a whole musical era without taking the usual suspects in. You won't hear Aquarius but in the same style they've put a track on there called "Free from the City" by a Canadian band from the sixties called The Poppy Family. Same mood and era, much less known band. Thus, listening to the Trip becomes just that: A trip.

The song I'll be posting here is one I've enjoyed thouroughly when it was done by people like Gloria Gaynor and The Communards. But the version I stumbled across on the second CD of The Trip is worth buying the whole CD. Apparantly a band called The Sandpipers did a version of Guantanamera that sucked ass, and then they went ahead and did this splendid rendition of Never can say goodbye. It's dreamy. It's lounge. It's got excellent piano and organ stuff going on. I daresay it's quite a lot better than all other versions I've heard of this song so far.

Enjoy The Sandpipers' version of Never can say goodbye.

Keep the Soul Alive 11

Work on this compilation has been lying still for a while, but today I was listening to some tunes, and I got the idea blow the dust off Superfly by Curtis Mayfield. It's the soundtrack to the movie with the same name from 1972. As such it makes for a great example of Blaxploitation music, although there's been some debate wether or not one ought to call the movie a blaxploitation flick. So I wanted to maybe post the song Freddie's Dead here.

But then it hit me. I don't particularly like this album. I don't listen to it that often because I've come to the conclusion that people that sing falsetto 99% of the time are a pain in the ass. This is also the reason you'll never see me post something by Marvin Gaye, and why many of Prince's tunes don't work out for me either. They're off in la-la land sounding like a neutered pig half the time. I know I'm going to end up in a fight with my friend Bud for saying this, but there you have it.

So I figured I'd better skip this one and decided to dust off another album instead. Sly and the family Stone's "There's a riot goin' on". Many people from different groups of music lovers have proclaimed this to be the best album ever made. My buddy Arno seems to think thoughts in that direction and he's in the unlikely company of people like Andres Lokko, a critic who's considered a demi-God in Sweden. And it doesn't stop there... I've seen polls in which The People thought this.

Now I've never thought the album was *that* good, really. It's nice and all, but I think Baduism is better, and so are OK Computer, The Nightfly, i Centrum and a whole bunch of albums in quite a few genres. But still, it is a very, very good album. The track I'll be posting here *is* that good though. To be frank, I think this track alone lifts the entire album to the very, very good status.

It's a bit of a clich?, but I can't help it. Please enjoy Family Affair by Sly & The family Stone. Also notice how they do very, very little falsetto-singing in this track.

Keep the Soul Alive 10

Prince has always been one of those artists that I've had trouble listening to because of the enourmous span of his work. Some of it I hate, some of it is groovy, some of it is brilliant. I had to revise my opinion of the man a bit when I got the Live in Las Vegas DVD from Arno last year. On this DVD, the man just rocks.

So I went ahead and got some albums to listen to, and found Dirty mind from the early eighties to be a true gem. He blends rock, funk, soul and pop into a unique sound and he does it while talking about for the time very controversial topics.

Frankly I think Prince ought to stick to making music that he loves instead of making music for contractual obligations, and he ought to play more guitar. The man is a God. Just listen to his stuff on the single "Kiss". The Guitar work in there is phenomenal.

It feels like the track for the compilation is very rock-oriented funk, and it seems like he made this tune because it was fun to do. Download and enjoy Head by Prince from his third album ever, Dirty Mind on which Brother Prince demonstrates that he too keeps the soul alive.

Keep the Soul Alive 9

The collection "Funkin' on the 1" offers a staggering 90 tracks spread over five discs, all in the genres funk, rare-groove and soul. Of course some real classics are found on it like Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly" and large amounts of The Average White Band stuff, but the main attraction are the less heard of gems that you'll find on there.

One of the bands that is featured on the box-set with two songs is Sir Joe Quarterman and Free Soul. The song I picked for this compilation is a typical example of Blaxploitation music. The arrangements include a sizable string section, the dampened chords that you'll also find on Superfly and Shaft, and lyrics that are a critique on the society they were living in.

The thing that amazes me most is that the lyrics are timeless, and very appliccable to modern day society. So here goes: Enjoy The way they do my life by Sir Joe Quarterman and Free Soul.

The way they do my life, I just can't stand it
The way they do my life, they must have planned it
The way they do my life I just don't know
Makes me wonder what I'm living for

From a child they raise me to get older
just to make me one of their soldiers
killing people I know nothing of
When I was born I only knew my mother's love

The way they do my life, I just can't stand it
The way they do my life, they must have planned it
The way they do my life I just don't know
Makes me wonder what I'm living for

That's my money, Uncle Sam
for the rest of my life I'll be a working man
for things I could never call my own
'cause you got mine 'fore I was born

Oh, you close the door on my mother
and you put your signs to condemn my brother
for sister's sake I don't bother
cause it shows on the face of my father

The way they do my life, I just can't stand it
The way they do my life, they must have planned it
The way they do my life I just don't know
Makes me wonder what I'm living for.

I just don't know what I am living for
I don't know...

Keep the Soul Alive 8

When talking about keeping any form of soul alive, you cannot really ignore spirituals, blues or gospel because in a way that started it all. Now when I was visiting Arno, he gave me just the album to illustrate that: Spirit of the Century by the Blind Boys of Alabama.

I'd never heard of them, but apparantly they were at an institute for the Blind in Alabama (doh!) in 1939, learnt singing and formed a gospel choir. So here we are, a number of really ancient blind black guys singing blues and gospel. If that isn't soulful, I don't know.

Their voices remind me of a thing I noticed when I was listening to Johnny Cash' version of "Hurt". He was well in his seventies when he recorded it, and his experience gave the song a menace that a spotty teenager never could induce. The same applies to the Blind Boys... Their age makes their songs worth while.

The album stretches from rather straight forward Blues to negro spirituals, and for this compilation I thought the last song on the album was quite perfect. It's just the Boys singing and tapping the rhythm, no more, no less.

I figure this song is going to be the closing act for the keep the soul alive compilation, but I give it to you here and now. Enjoy The last time by The Blind Boys of Alabama.

Too drunk to fuck?

Every time I go to the Netherlands I try and visit Alex and Arno. This time around, as usual, Arno had some interesting music to share. He played me a song off the album by Nouvelle Vague that was guaranteed to sell me on it. And it did.

Take your typical post-punk British pop songs, and redo them as Brasilian Bossa or Latin Jazz. Them have them sung by eight French girls that never heard the originals, and you have an interesting record to listen to. Guns of Brixton, This is not a Love Song, Making plans for Nigel and I just can't get enough are a few of the songs that got dipped in this smooth Bossa sauce.

It sounds preposterous, but it works. The first time you listen to it, it may be a weird experience, but hang on to the CD for a while and you'll see it's a grower, not a shower.

In the mean time, here's a taste of the album with my favourite song. The lyrics are great, and the fact that a giggly woman with a French accent that sings them does make it a sure laugh. Enjoy Too Drunk to Fuck.

Grenoble...

Before going to Grenoble I was thinking about staying in Lyon and driving to HP every morning. Arno dissuaded me from that, and as a result I live in Grenoble now. Because he said it was a nice town.

Grenoble is no such thing though. The scenery is lovely, granted, but the town puts the Alpes to shame. A lot of it seems to be built during the late 60's or early 70's, which makes for extremely dull architecture. On top of that, the buildings could use a paint job. Seems they haven't had that since they were built.

And last but not least, in November, the place is dead. There is nothing to do except hanging in the hotel bar. Luckily some of the lads in the course are quite nice, so at least one has company in the evening. Since I was horrendously bored on Sunday, I was listening to some music off my laptop while reading. And I once again was boggled by the coolness of Mozart's Requiem.

Here's a selection of tunes from that album:
1 - Tuba Minum
2 - Rex Tremendae
3 - Lacrimosa

Enjoy! I'm considering skipping tomorrow's part of the course (don't ask why... ) and go skiing instead. One can dream.

Keep the Soul Alive 7

A lot has been said about Erykah Badu. She has been pitched as a modern-day Billie Holiday, Diana Ross, she's been said to sing Blues, R&B, Jazz and Soul. Fact of the matter is that her debut, "Baduizm" is a hard act to follow. It's even a hard act to classify. I've always had a love affair with this album. Its gritty, hip-hop like base & drum arrangements, the horns that peek in here and there, and her smooth & sexy voice lingering in the land between blues, soul and jazz really continue to do it for me after six years of listening to it.

Her other albums are not quite up to the level of the first one. Too much experimenting and too little groove or soul, in my opinion. Still, I continue to buy them, for they are good. Any woman that sings "My eyes are green, 'cause I eat a lot of vegetables" should be loved by the masses. So picking a track for my soul-compilation made me look long and hard at the "Baduizm" album again. After considering the deliciously groovy and laid back "on and on" or "appletree", I found a gem that to my knowledge hasn't received a lot of attention on the radio.

Therefore I offer you Sometimes. I hope you like the track. Like said, this album has been one of my favourites for a long time now. If you don't own it and like "black" music, run out to the store and pick up a copy. It's a must-have.

In the car-stereo...

This morning I got into a really foul fucking mood in the car. And as always, I had my trusty Rage Against the Machine CD with me. I don't know if one could say it cheers one up, but it does help.

So enjoy one of my favourite tracks: Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine.

Keep the Soul Alive 6

Up till now, I've only mentioned albums by males that keep the soul alive, but that doesn't mean I don't have any female alternatives up my sleeve. One of these is Jill Scott. The first time I heard Jill Scott was about two and a half years ago, when visiting Arno.

Her first album, "Who is Jill Scott? - Words and sounds vol. 1" was a playful affair where she would sit and speak with the audience, sing and half-rap on certain songs. Specially the third tune, Exclusively, is a kick in the gut. Funny yet tragic it delivers the message with a cool groove and personality that caught my attention. That and Arno profusely proclaiming its brilliance.

So when the time came she released her second album, four years after the debut, I went and bought it. And I found Jill Scott had matured. Some of the scruffiness was gone, and the result was a slightly softer, more mellow album. More mellow without becoming namby-pamby for that matter. Some have argued that much of the raw energy of the first album is gone, but I quire like it. I think the critics ought to give the woman a break. Getting married, chilling out and having a kid should change your perspective on things.

Therefore I offer you Bedda at Home by Jill Scott from her excellent second album "Beautifully Human - Words and sounds vol. 2".

Enjoy!

Keep the Soul Alive 5

Ik heb de laatste tijd m'n Soul en R&B verzameling iets uitgebreid. Gek wel hoe je met funk als eigenlijke liefhebberij de zwarte muziek steeds meer inrolt.

De plaat "The best of Isaac Hayes - XL" is een dubbel-CD die ik voor 9 Euro op de kop tikte. Het is een dubbelalbum uit 2000 dat is samengesteld door een tweetal Zweedse muziekjournalisten. E?n van die twee, Jan Gradvall wordt samen met een andere heer, Andres Lokko, een beetje gezien als demi-Goden van de muziekwereld. Ik mag die mensen niet zo, omdat het pretentious bastards zijn. Het verbaasde me dan ook dat Gradvall, die anders Dylan, Springsteen en de Zweedse equivalenten daarvan hoog in het vaandel heeft staan, ook Isaac Hayes cool vindt.

In ieder geval ben ik niet zo'n groot fan van Isaac Hayes' muziek. Natuurlijk vind ik het verschrikkelijk cool dat de goede man Chef in Southpark speelt, en dan ook nog genoeg zelf-ironie heeft om met een nummer als "Salty chocolate Balls" een hit te scoren. Maar z'n muziek is nogal pompeus. Evengoed is hij een icoon voor blaxploitation en symfonische soul.

E?n nummer op die plaat die ik kocht vind ik toch wel erg lekker. Het is een nummer wat door D'Angelo op het album Voodoo ook gecovered werd en zou als een soul evergreen betiteld kunnen worden. Nu vind ik die versie van D'Angelo eigenlijk lekkerder, vooral omdat Hayes 'm dertien minuten en vierendertig sekonden door laat pruttelen. Maar de twee versies hebben beiden hun voordelen.

Ik moet me verontschuldigen voor de grootte tegenover allen die met minder dan 2Mbit aan de slag zijn, maar hier is ie dan toch maar: Feel like making love van Isaac Hayes. Veel plezier.

Keep the Soul Alive 4

Na twee dagen met verkoudheid op bed gelegen te hebben zonder internet thuis (vergeten te betalen voor m'n vakantie... domdomdom) ben ik blij weer op het werk te zijn. Ik heb veel te doen, dus ik houd het kort.

Dit keer maar 'ns iets van The Meters. Van het album Rejuvenation. Arno bevool mij ooit dit album aan toen hij bezig was de fijnere nuances van de New-Orleans funk aan me uit te leggen. Dat was een gouden greep, want ik heb er vaak en met veel plezier naar geluisterd sinds de aanschaf.

Gewoon lekkere nummers, stuk voor stuk. Funk zoals het bedoeld was. Ik ben nog nooit in New Orleans geweest, maar het moet een plek zijn die tot de verbeelding spreekt. Iedereen die ik ken die er geweest is heeft het over de sfeer, het gevaar, de muziek en de sex. En ik geloof dat de muziek van de Meters dat sfeertje goed beschrijft.

Als vierde nummer op de compilatie bied ik daarom hier Just kissed my Baby aan. Veel plezier ermee.

Keep the Soul Alive 3

We zijn er weer. Na twee weken noest vakantie vieren, verwend worden door m'n moeder en het met provinciaal'n noar de stad goan zijn we er weer. Op kantoor. In Zweden. Ik heb in die tussentijd Meneer Beerta uitgekregen en ben begonnen aan Vuile Handen, het tweede deel van het Bureau. En de werkelijkheid ziet er best wel zo uit als in dat boek.

Maar goed. In het kader van het bijhouden van deze site dus ook maar weer 'ns een stukkie muziek wegzetten, want het is een tijdje geleden. Ik zat aan de Meters te denken, maar vergat de CD, dus het wordt een plaatje van D'Angelo.

Eigenlijk heb ik het heel erg lang moeilijk gehad med D'Angelo omdat het me altijd te soft was. Teveel Prince-ballads in die soul. Te weinig funk. Todat het album Voodoo uitkwam. Da's 60 minuten lang een verschrikkelijk lekkere groove. Daar bewees die D'Angelo toch maar 'ns dat ie kan funken met de besten. Lekker ook met een blaas-sectie die door diezelfde gozer gedaan is als Erykah Badu's blaas-sectie op "Baduism".

De laatste tijd ben ik waarschijnlijk softer geworden, word ik ouder of allebei, want ik begin het eerdere album, "Brown Sugar" van D'Angelo steeds meer te waarderen. Het nummer wat ik hier aanbied is echter het eerste nummer wat ik ooit van hem hoorde en ik vind het nog steeds ??n van de beste Soul/Funk nummers die ik ken. Punt.

Chill while we do it to you in your eardrums met Brown Sugar van D'Angelo.

Keep the Soul Alive 2

Ikzelf had al vaak van Bill Withers gehoord, maar eigenlijk nog nooit naar z'n muziek geluisterd tot ik Lisa tegenkwam. Die had Lovely Day liggen, een best of schijf. Dus ik 'm uit nieuwsgierigheid 'ns bekeken. Blijkt ze 'm van een Engels heerschap gekregen te hebben dat Kim heet. Een ex van d'r dus. Stond nog een hartje in het omslag getekend en zo ook.

Nu houd ik daar niet zo van, Engelse heerschappen die hartjes voor Lisa tekenen. Integendeel, die bejegen ik met een zekere skepsis. Maar Arno was lovend geweest over Withers en ik was echt nieuwsgierig, dus ben ik naar die plaat begonnen te luisteren. En tot mijn grote spijt moet ik zeggen dat die Kim in ieder geval goeie platen weg kon geven. Grmbl.

Maar ja. Bill Withers. Blijkt toch stiekum dat je best wel wat nummers van 'm kent. "Lean on me" door Al Jarreau bleek gewoon een cover te zijn, en "Ain't no Sunshine", "Lovely day" en "Just the two of us" ken je onherroepelijk terug als je ze hoort. Lekkere nummers, stuk voor stuk.

Aangezien ik de compilatie geopend had met J. J. Cale's Let me do it to you vond ik het geschikt om met iets door te gaan wat ook over vrouwen gaat.

Daarom wens ik jullie veel plezier met Kissing my Love van Bill Withers. Lekker hoor.

Keep the Soul Alive 1

Na veel discussies over de te maken keus is het dan toch maar Soul, Funk en R&B geworden. Misschien zelfs met wat Hip-Hop, omdat je het soms zo moeilijk kunt classificeren.

Ooit zat ik in een appartement aan de Vrolikstraat met m'n goede vriend en kompaan Arno verschrikkelijk veel naar muziek te luisteren. Da's op zich niks raars, maar deze keer meende ik m'n afschuw voor de Beatles uit te mogen drukken. Ik houd niet zo van de Beatles, met name omdat ze vrij veel saaie blues-rock op hun eerdere platen hebben staan. Vanaf Revolver wordt het pas een beetje muziek eigenlijk.

Arno vond dat een blamage. "de Beatles", zo snoof hij, "zijn het dichtst bij het maken van Funk gekomen van alle blanke bands". Daar heb ik sindsdien over nagedacht, en ik ben tot de conclusie gekoment dat ik het er niet mee eens ben. Los van Steely Dan en de Red Hot Chili Peppers is er zonder meer ??n blanke geweest die dat ook wel kon, dat funky muziek maken. Die man heet J. J. Cale.

Nou zal J. J. Cale niet direct als Funkateer te boek staan. Hij is met name bekend van de vele nummers die Eric Clapton van 'm heeft gecovered (Cocaine, After midnight e.a.) en het feit dat Mark Knopfler's gitaar-stijl erg ge?nspireerd is door J. J. Cale. Daarnaast heeft hij een reputatie als country/folk/blues-man. Dit alles doet 'm toch schromelijk tekort, want hij heeft op z'n tijd verschrikkelijk lekkere funky- en jazzy-nummers gemaakt.

Kort en goed kun je zeggen dat J. J. Cale veel minder populair is dan ie verdient. Een introvert genie dat aan de lopende band twee tot drie minuten durende juweeltjes aflevert. Van die nummers waarvan je het jammer vindt dat ze afgelopen zijn.

E?n van die nummers wilde ik op de compilatie zetten. Op het album Troubadour uit 1975, waar onder anderen Cocaine op staat, zijn een paar echte juweeltjes te noemen. Luister daarom hier naar Let me do it to you van J. J. Cale.

De Keus van Chris

Na veel vijven en zessen is ie er dan. De playlist.

1: Hey Dude van Kula Shaker
2: Been Caught Stealing van Jane's Addiction
3) Ten years ahead van The Soundtrack of Our Lives
4: Golden Brown van de Stranglers
5: Blue Balloon van 22 Pistepirkko
6: Nursery Rhyme van Boss Hog
7: It's coming down van Cake
8: Hey Sailor van de Detroit Cobras
9: Fortunate Son van Creedence
10: Creep van Radiohead
11: The world is full of crashing bores van Morrissey
12: The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. One van Neutral Milk Hotel
13: Walkabout van de Red Hot Chili Peppers
14: Bob Hunds 115:e s?ng van Bob Hund

Hehe. We zijn er. De rock compilatie is klaar. Jammer dat ik geen Stone Roses en zo op de lijst kon zetten, maar ja, eens moet er een eind aan zo'n lijst komen.

Dan ga ik nou even naar Robson Greene kijken. In zo'n lekkere Engelse detective. En daarna nadenken over het volgende project. Misschien jazz of zo.

De Keus van Chris XIV

De Stranglers zijn niet een band waar ik me veel mee bezig heb gehouden voordat ik Snatch zag. Het vierde nummer van de soundtrack van die film is een nummer van de Stranglers.

MP3 gedownload, goed geluisterd, album besteld... Toen ik eindelijk het album La Folie in m'n handen had moet ik bekennen dat ik teleurgesteld was. Er is eigenlijk geen ruk aan. De Stranglers willen een punk-bandje zijn, maar kunnen het eigenlijk niet. Slappe hap. Met uitzondering van dat ene nummer.

Nu heb ik eigenlijk een teringhekel aan van die artiesten die ??n goeie single op een album zetten en de rest als opvulsel zien. Tears for Fears is zo'n band die nog steeds agressie oproept vanwege zulk gedrag. Maar het nummer is zo briljant dat ik er toch de hekkensluiter van wil maken.

Luister daarom hier naar Golden Brown van de Stranglers.

Morgen kom ik terug met een play-list met de juiste volgorde voor de hele compilatie. Daar moet ik namelijk nog 'ns goed over nadenken, die volgorde.

De keus van Chris XIII

Zoals ik eerder al 'ns zei is Ramon Verdel de man geweest die me ooit aan de Cake heeft geholpen. In de zomer van 1996 kwam hij met het album Fashion Nugget aandragen. De eerste paar keer dat ik 't allemaal hoorde dacht ik "wat is dit?", maar na een aantal keer luisteren was de CD een paar maanden lang niet uit de autoradio weg te beuken.

Cake maakt een verschrikkelijk lekkere mix van rock, country en funk waar meestal in de ritme- en bas-sectie veel moois gebeurd. Als je daarbij de zielig klinkende trompet en de sarcastische en vaak verveeld klinkende platte zang van McCrae optelt heb je een geluid waar ik goed mee uit de voeten kan. Cake wordt vaak vergeleken met Beck en Soul Coughing, en dat is geen slechte score. E?n van de dingen die Cake ook kenmerken zijn de droge, satirische teksten.

Gisteren zat ik na te denken over een nummer van Cake wat in de compilatie zou passen terwijl ik eigenlijk een vriend van me moest opbellen. Toen ik die jongen eenmaal aan de lijn kreeg, vertelde hij dat hij het precies had uitgemaakt met z'n vriendin waar ie al een paar jaar mee samenwoonde. Dus daar zit je dan, in Kopenhagen waar je heg noch steg kent. Een situatie die bedonderd is. Dat weet ik, want ik heb in die schoenen gestaan.

Ooit had ik 'ns een relatie waarin ik me niet zo lekker voelde. Toen ik na veel gezeik en veel lopen malen eindelijk de stoute schoenen aantrok en er de brui aan gaf, stond ik met een aantal CD's en wat kleren op de straten van Stockholm zonder daar eigenlijk vrienden of houvast te hebben. Via een kennis (dank je wel, Senad) die van Amsterdam naar Stockholm was verhuisd kon ik een flatje huren van een dame die een tijdje weer bij d'r ouders thuis zat.

'T was een zwijnestal. Kutmeubels, niet al te schoon, 26 vierkante meter en niet eens van mezelf te noemen, met een keuken die betere dagen gezien had en bovendien maar net zo groot was als een gemiddelde ingebouwde kast. E?n van de dingen die er evengoed wel stond, naast een kast met haar kleren er nog in, was een redelijke stereo. Die ik dan weer gebruikte om m'n CD's te spelen die ik had meegenomen.

Nou zult u zich afvragen wat dat med Cake te maken heeft. Maar een aantal van de nummers op de plaat Fashion Nugget heeft met break-ups te maken, en ??n van die liedjes is zelfs het beste break-up nummer wat er is. Beter dan I will Survive, beter dan 50 ways to leave your lover, ja, zelfs beter dan You ought to know. Dat nummer draaide ik soms urenlang, ik ging er mee slapen en stond er mee op.

Dus hierbij wil ik voor Freddie een break-up lied aanbieden. It's coming down van Cake.

Spinvis in het Zweeds?

Michel stuurde mij laatst een e-mailtje met een link naar Holymadre, een zingende bodybuilder (of zo), die een cover hadden gemaakt van het nummer Smalfilm van Spinvis. In het Zweeds. De tekst is redelijk goed vertaald, en ik ben blij eindelijk die Zweden wat van de gekte van Spinvis te kunnen laten beluisteren.

F?r alla er Svenskar som jag har f?rs?kt att ber?tta f?r vem Spinvis ?r och varf?r hans texter ?r s?pass briljanta, har jag h?r en Svensk cover av l?ten Smalfilm. Den ?r inte lika cool musikaliskt, men driver po?ngen hem ganska hyfsat ?nd?.

Download hier Smalfilm in het Zweeds

Met dank aan Holymadre en Michel natuurlijk.

De keus van Chris XII

E?n van die bands die je misschien niet op het eerste gezicht als briljant ervaart is de Zweedse zes-mans formatie Bob Hund. Hun eerste albums kunnen niets anders dan doldriest genoemd worden. Met nummers als "I st?llet f?r Musik, f?rvirring" (in plaats van muziek, verwarring) en "Pratstund" maakten ze gek genoeg zelfs voor een redelijk groot publiek furore in zowel Zweden als Denemarken. Gek genoeg, want de zanger zingt steeds iets wat op een melodie lijkt, maar steeds tegen het logische aanhangt en er niet op ligt.

De muziek is altijd een verassing. Ze hebben naar allerlei bands geluisterd, en daar een geheel eigen mix van gemaakt die altijd weer verbaasd. De teksten zijn afwisselend sarcastisch, onbegrijpelijk of politiek getint. Dan is er nog het dialect van de zanger. Hij zingt in het Sk?nsk... de Nijmegenaren van Zweden, zal ik maar zeggen.

Tegenwoordig zingen ze in het Engels en heten Bergman Rock. Daar heb ik eerder al 'ns een nummer van op de site gezet, maar het originele concept is nog steeds het beste. Een beetje vreemd, maar wel lekker.

Het feit dat ik naar Bob Hund luister heb ik aan vriend Lars te danken. Zoals wel meer dingen eigenlijk. E?n van mijn favoriete nummers zet ik dus als twaalfde nummer op de plaat. Ik ben er niet zeker van of dit nou de hekkensluiter gaat zijn of niet, daar kom ik nog op terug. Maar luister hier in ieder geval naar Bob Hunds 115e s?ng.

De keus van Chris XI

We zijn nu bij het elfde spoor aangekomen van de compilatie CD. Ik denk dat ik er hierna nog twee nummers bij zet, hetgeen betekend dat het einde in zicht is voor de keus van Chris. Als er verzoeken zijn voor andere genres/compilaties, schrijf me dan gewoon een commentaartje... Misschien ga ik wel aan de "Keep de soul alijf!" of zo.

Maarreh ik heb High Fidelity nog 'ns bekeken en zou eigenlijk een nummerke willen aanbieden als iets rustiger intermezzo tussen allerlei up-tempo zaken. En dan gaarne zonder met power-ballads aan te komen dragen, want die haat ik. Sorry als ik hier "Rock for Lovers" fans op de tenen trap, maar zo is het nu eenmaal.

Dus dan is er maar ??n band waar ik mee uit de voeten kan. De Red Hot Chili Peppers. Geintje, maar ze hebben op het album "One Hot Minute" uit 1994, hun eerste na het pinnacle-album "Blood Sugar Sex Magic" uit 1992, een nummer staan wat ik eigenlijk geen rock meer mag noemen.

Walkabout is namelijk gewoon keihard een funk-nummer. Maar Arno heeft ooit tegen me gezegd dat Funk gewoon een fusie tussen rock en soul is, dus dat geeft de burger moed.

One Hot Minute, net als alle Red Hot schijven is een plaat waarop liedjes van wisselende kwaliteit staan. Dat is iets wat de Red Hots ook in hun Live-optredens kenmerkt. Zeker het feit dat ze een gitarist hebben die de rock-hoek ingedoken is doet de band geen goed. Eigenlijk zijn Anthony en Flea de enigen die de band nog een beetje interessant houden.

Het concert wat ik van de zomer in Stockholm zag was dus ook van matige kwaliteit. Het meest interessante was de toegift die door Flea werd ingeleid: een 35 minuten durende Jam-sessie waar Flea bas speelde en af en toe wat hulp kreeg van de gitarist en de gitarist van de support-act. Eigenlijk is het gewoon geil om Flea bas te horen spelen. Walkabout en de meer funky dingen speelden ze niet eens. Terwijl dat mijn reden was om naar het concert te gaan.

Hoe dan ook, Walkabout is ??n van die funk-nummers die voor mij een reden zijn geweest om Red Hot platen te kopen. Veel plezier er mee.

Financiele rompslomp...

Ik wilde een lens kopen, en deed dat ook. Lisa had een paar schoenen nodig, en ik praatte haar twee paar aan (lekker hoor, met hoge hakken en zo... ), en we kochten een bult CD's en van alles en nog wat. Dus bruin heeft precies de maand overleefd. Maar dan ook maar net eigenlijk.

E?n van die CD's was het album Still lookin' good to me van The band of... Blacky Ranchette. Op de lijst med medewerkers komen we daar dus onder andere Kurt Wagner van Lambchop tegen en het geheel is een fijn mengsel van experimenten met Country en Lo-Fi met hier en daar een verdwaalde gitaar- of zelfs accordeon-solo. Zonder meer een fijne plaat. Een goede plaat. Al wil Lisa (die 'm vond) er niet aan dat het een Lo-Fi plaat is.

Maar ja, daarom biedt ik u hier het nummer Getting it made aan. Een erg lekker country nummer, maar met een aantal verassingen. De piano klinkt hier en daar alsof ie eigenlijk voor Compay Segundo zit te spelen, en er wordt een erg lekker stukje Argentijnse tango tegenaan gegooid op het eind. Allemaal veel te spannend om gewone country te zijn.

**** EDIT: ****
Herbert, Willem, dank je... De link is gemaakt. Je kunt 'm nu downloaden.

De keus van Chris X

US Cover

Ik zat vandaag, nadat ik Lisa bij haar werk had afgezet, naar een plaat te luisteren waar ik al een flinke tijd niet meer naar gekeken had, "Whiteout" van Boss Hog. Deze plaat heb ik ooit niet van gehouden. Hier krijgen ze ook nog een fluks pak slaag van een recensent die het allemaal niet zo ziet hangen met Boss Hog.

Maar het is stiekum een groeier, dat album. En dat doet pijn. De Jon Spencer Blues Explosion heb ik altijd met veel verve gehaat, en Boss Hog's andere albums hebben me ook nooit kunnen bekoren. En dan vind ik die Christina Martinez ook nog 'ns een raar en onaantrekkelijk vrouwspersoon. Dus al met al gek te noemen dat ik een Boss Hog nummer in de compilatie gooi. Merk ook op dat ik geloof dat de foto die jullie hier zien de Amerikaanse of Japanse Cover-foto is. In Europa had ze een witte bikini aan, al wordt het er toch niet smakelijker op.

Maar ik zal er aan moeten geloven. Whiteout is gewoon een heel erg lekkere plaat. Een garage/punk plaat waar veel dansante ritmes op voorkomen, en ik vind Martinez erg lekker klinken. De enige plaatsen waar de plaat onderuit gehaald wordt zijn die plaatsen waarop Jon Spencer de bek open meent te moeten doen.

Buiten die momenten lukt het ze om een ietwat grimmige en soms hypnotische sfeer te schapen die me wel aanstaat. Net alsof je wat Portishead door de punk gooit. Vandaar dat ik hier als tiende lied op de compilatie Nursery Rhyme aanbied.

De keus van Chris IX

Toen Morrissey in April na zeven jaar stilte "You are the Quarry" uitbracht waren er veel mensen in m'n vriendenkring die er nogal negatief tegenover stonden. Oude Smiths fans die Morrissey niet langer zo relevant vinden als toen ze veertien waren en midden in de tiener-angst zaten. Ik snap al die mensen niet. Hij is ouder geworden, hetgeen zich in dit geval uit in een strakker geproduceerde en consistentere plaat. "You are the Quarry" is gewoon gelikt.

The Smiths vond ik briljante momenten hebben, maar te grillig en teveel jaren-80-klinkend om echt interessant te zijn. Morrissey's nieuwste album is gewoon nieuw en verbeterd. Volwassener en schoner. Maar ja, dat gaat er niet in bij m'n Smiths-aanbiddende pop-nerd vrienden. Als 't aan de kat lag, kocht ze dit album. Nog voordat ze "Vauxhall and I" kocht, ook al wordt dat als vloeken in de kerk gezien.

Lamenting policewomen policemen silly women taxmen
Uniformed whores, Educated criminals, Work within the law
This world is full, Oh oh, So full of crashing bores
And I must be one, cos no one ever turns to me to say
Take me in your arms, Take me in your arms
And love me, And love me

Morrissey in topvorm... Koop nou gewoon dat album. Hier kun je in ieder geval luisteren naar The world is full of crashing Bores.

De keus van Chris VIII

De laatste tijd heb ik niet zo veel tijd om me met de website bezig te houden op kantoor, en ik heb thuis nog steeds geen internet. Maar vandaag is er bijna niemand op kantoor omdat we gisteravond bedrijfsfeest hadden. In het kader van Studio 54. Natuurlijk was ik er niet, want ik haat dat soort feesten. Zeker hier.

Dus daar zit je dan, op kantoor. En ik heb vandaag m'n 22 Pistepirkko plaat bij me. Ik kende die mensen eigenlijk helemaal niet, todat in ??n of ander forum ??n of andere pop-nerd een heel verhaal afstak over hoe die mensen dan wel God's gave aan de muziek wereld zijn. Daarna heb ik een album aangeschaft dat "Rumble City, La-La Land" heet.

22 Pistepirkko is een bandje uit Finland wat al zo'n 20 jaar aktief is. De eerste platen van rond 1984 zijn nog in het Fins, maar daarna zijn ze op Engels overgestapt en hebben zelfs buiten de Finse grenzen wat succes gehad.

Hun laatste plaat was een verzamelaar die in 2002 uitkwam, en hun website leeft nog, maar eigenlijk weet ik niet zoveel over de band. Voor vandaag heb ik in ieder geval een nummer van "Rumble City, La-La Land" gekozen dat "Blue Balloon" heet en voor zover ik het allemaal begrepen heb over een zelfmoord gaat.

Just want to say what I'm really thinking
I don't like your music and I hate your style...

Luister hier naar Blue Balloon.

In de autoradio II...

Als je dan zo alleen van Lisa's werk naar het eigen kantoor rijdt heb je zo'n twintig minuten om naar je eigen muziek te luisteren. Dat kan handig zijn, want ik heb een onverklaarbare fetisch voor Duitse hip-hop die niet veel mensen begrijpen. Vandaag had ik dus twintig minuten om daar 'ns even lekker in te zwelgen.

Twee van de beste nummers op de "Unplugged"-plaat die Die fantastischen Vier maakten zijn toch echt Raus en Konsum.

Die Fantastischen Vier is een hip-hop collectief waar ik al jaren naar luister. Sinds hun hitje met "Zu Geil f?r diese Welt" ben ik de trotse bezitter van het album "4. Dimension", een erg lekkere plaat met goed geproduceerde onspannen feel-good hip-hop. De "Unplugged" plaat is echter niet helemaal mijn ding. De eerste 4 liedjes zijn van matige kwaliteit, maar daarna zijn de heren in topvorm tot het laatste nummer. Rap en Hip-Hop vind ik echter vrijwel nooit interessant om live naar te luisteren, en dat merk ik ook als ik deze plaat opzet.

Maar de twee nummers die ik eerder noemde vind ik wel heel erg goed, zeker als je bedenkt dat het allemaal live ten tonele gevoerd wordt.

Om te jennen nog even de tekst van "Raus" hier posten. Maar dan moet je wel even verder klikken, want ik heb 'm in de Extended Entry gegooid. "Raus" is zonder meer het beste scheidingslied wat ik ooit gehoorde heb, misschien ook wel omdat het precies de manier was waarop ik over ??n van m'n verleden (ahem, geen namen noemen) relaties dacht. De clou op het eind is onbetaalbaar wrang.

Raus

es hat sich langsam angeschlichen das Gef?hl
die W?rme ist gewichen es ist k?hl
die Zeit die verstrichen ist ?ndert nichts daran
das die Beziehung zwischen uns alles andere als ausgeglichen
ist doch man vergisst nicht was man verdr?ngt
man vermisst nicht was beengt
und es beklemmt mich st?ndig festzustellen das ich Sie
auswendig kenn ich weis Sie ist mir unendlich
fremd geworden wenn ich seh wie Sie pennt
jeden morgen wie Sie riecht die haare ungekammt
liegt Sie da warm wei? weich blass
sieht mich an und fragt bisst Du dass
ich kann nicht sehn wie Sie aussieht kann nicht sehn wie
Sie ausgeht kann nicht sehn wie Sie nicht aus sich rausgeht
kann nicht sehn wie Sie sich auszieht kann nicht sehn wie Sie
hier morgens aufsteht denn es steht mir bis hier

Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen
Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen

ich hab immer gedacht das es irgendwann mal kracht
oder so doch das ist es nicht
ich hab immer gedacht schlussgemacht wird schnell zack
?ber nacht oder so doch das ist es nicht

der weg zum ?bernachttrennungsakt ist lang und
abstrakt denn der Glaube, das es wieder mit Ihr klappt
tappt blind durch dein Kopflabyrinth bis es dich aus dem
Takt bringt und die Tatsachen nackt sind
aus Gl?ck wird Pech aus Pech wird Gl?ck
doch was will ich auch zur?ck von dieser Zeit voller Streit
wegen jeder Kleinigkeit was mir eigentlich schnuppe war
weil die Bewegung auch das Salz in der Suppe war
doch all die Dinge die verbanden verschwanden
sind abgestanden oder verwandelten sich in miese
Details die sie wie fieses Geschmeis umkreisen die mich
warnen das das nicht langer so weitergeht

Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen
Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen

ich hab immer gedacht der gute Wille hat die Macht
der Toleranz oder so doch das ist es nicht
ich hab immer gedacht das der Letzte noch am besten lacht
oder so doch das ist es nicht

wenn der Weg das Ziel ist und das Leben nur ein Spiel ist
wie erkenn ich dann den Punkt an dem mir das zuviel ist
wenn die Luft steht und unter Druck steht, sich der Raum dreht
oder ist das schon zu sp?t woher kommt die
Kraft die es schafft das man am Rausch des Lebens zieht
und nicht pafft und ?berhaupt wer sich nichts erlaubt
sich nichts traut der verstaubt beraubt sich
aller Dinge die er glaubt und vertraut sich nicht
doch mein Mut liegt gefesselt und geknebelt in der Ecke
ausgeknockt von meiner Sucht nach Harmonie die das geregelt hat
mir den Blick vernebelt hat doch heute Nacht
ist es mein Wille der mit K?pfen Nageln macht
denn st?ndig stand ich mit dem Rucken zur Wand ich
hab erst jetzt erkannt meine Verwandlung hab nur ich in der
Hand ich hatt es immer tun m?ssen hab mich nie gelassen
Sie hat mich heut verlassen

Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen
Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen
Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss raus Sie muss gehen

De keus van Chris VII

Kula Shaker's "K"

Deze mensen zag ik voor het eerst live op PinkPop in 1999. Het was een goede line-up die dag, met grote namen als Skunk Anansie, de toen nog niet zo grote Robbie Williams, Alanis Morisette, The John Spencer Blues Explosion, Manic Street Preachers en anderen.

De stemming was goed, het weer was goed en de Bratwursten smaakten uitstekend. Al met al was het toch een teleurstelling. Alanis Morisette was een eenzaam figuur op een veel te groot podium, Skunk Anansie kwam niet uit de verf en Manic wil ik het niet over hebben. Maar er was hoop. E?n van de bands die de dag openden voor mij was de Belgische formatie Soulwax, maar daar kom ik nog wel 'ns op terug.

Ook verschrikkelijk goed, misschien wel ??n van de beste live-artiesten die er zijn, was Robbie Williams. Ik had het toentertijd niet verwacht omdat ik alleen z'n ballades en z'n Take That dingen kende, maar het was werkelijk steengoed. Toen ik dan ook afgelopen zomer de kans had om Mr. Williams live in actie te zien in Stockholm was ik blij. Als een kind. Ik durf het rustig te bekennen, ik heb overwogen een T-shirt te maken met de welgemeende tekst "I'd shag Robbie Williams".

E?n van de bands waar ik geen hoge verwachtingen van had was het voor mij vrij onbekende Kula Shaker. Ze speelden ook op ??n van de kleinere podia. Maar wat een show zeg. Stond ik toch even van te kijken. Denderend optreden met gelikte, bijna sexy swingende rock met allerlei psychedelische en Indiaase invloeden. Sinds dien heb ik beide albums in de kast en luister ik er nog steeds regelmatig graag naar.

Voor vandaag had ik 't even moeilijk. Kula Shaker heeft 't nummer "Hush" van Deep Purple ooit gecovered, en da's een heel erg lekker nummer. Maar deze keer is het openingsnummer van Kula Shaker's eerste album K aan de orde. Luister hier naar Hey Dude.

Cello Concerto

Zoals jullie al dan niet weten heb ik Lisa ontmoet in het platenzaakje van haar vader, waar ze de goede man een dag hielp. Daarna heb ik twee maanden lang met de gedachten aan haar in het hoofd rondgelopen voor ik een e-mailtje schreef aan d'r vader, en of hij dat niet even aan dochterlief kon doorsturen. Zo gezegd zo gedaan, en een jaar later (10 Mei ontmoetten we elkaar voor het eerst) wonen we samen en ben ik een oprecht blij mens.

E?n van de dingen die de ouders van Lisa doen naast het drijven van dat platenzaakje is het distributeren van klassieke muziek. Channel Classics heet het label waar ze zich mee bezig houden. Over het algemeen krijgen de inspelingen van Channel Classics zeer goede recensies en ik moet zeggen, een aantal dingen klinken erg gelikt, ook al ben ik maar een leek.

In het kader daarvan waren we vorige week bij en uitvoering van Haydn's Cello Concerto in D-majeur, een stuk waar ik vanouds erg van houd, ik heb o a een inspeling van Mstislav Rostropovich die me altijd erg gegrepen heeft. Pieter Wispelwey, een Nederlander die op het moment voor ??n van de grootste Cellisten van deze tijd wordt aangezien, speelde het concert met het Uppsala Kammarorkester.

Pieter Wispelwey

Ik moet zeggen dat ondanks de hoge verwachtingen die ik koesterde het een enorm goed concert was. Wispelwey speelde met veel allure en humor, en de tweede toegift, die ter plekke verzonnen en uitgevoerd werd, was briljant en grappig tegelijkertijd. Evengoed vind ik nog steeds dat Rostropovich versie van Haydn's concert rauwer is, meer cohones heeft. Wispelwey speelde het concert ingetogen en licht, en ik houd nu eenmaal van iets zwaardere, donkere muziek.

Al met al zoals gezegd een goed concert van een goede Cellist. Pieter Wispelwey speelt in vele landen. Ik deed een kleine Google search, en vond alles van Japan tot Ontario tot Frankrijk. Maar in September speelt hij een aantal concerten in Nederland, met muziek van Rachmaninov, Tchaikovski en Shostakovich. Ik zou in ieder geval zeer zeker een kijkje gaan nemen.

Nu zijn dergelijke Russische komponisten van het begin van de twintigste eeuw wel even andere koek dan Haydn, maar het is natuurlijk altijd interessant te zien wat een van oorsprong barok-spelende cellist die een lichte en sobere speelstijl heeft met stukken van die zwaar op de hand liggende Russen gaat doen. Eigenlijk jammer dat ik er zelf niet naar toe kan.

De keus van Chris VI

Radiohead mag niet ontbreken. Het album OK Computer is nog steeds God's gave aan de Britpop. We hope that you choke. Fantastische dingen allemaal.

Dit nummer van Pablo Honey moest even in de compilatie. Gewoon omdat ik me 99% van de tijd best wel zo voel, altijd gedaan, zal ook waarschijnlijk niet veranderen. Behalve toen ik in Amsterdam woonde. Maar da's wel een erg lang verhaal voor zo'n muziekstukje.

I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here,
I don't belong here...

Luister hier naar Radiohead's Creep.

De keus van Chris V

Zo'n rare Best of schijf...

In Zweden wordt er veel gesproken over de zogenaamde "Gubb-rock" hetgeen vrij vertaald ouwe-lullen-rock betekent. Dan heeft men het over de Stones, Ulf Lundell, Tom Petty, Deep Purple en dat soort dinosaurussen. Eigenlijk een soort stadion-rock waar alle mannen tussen de 35 en 55 vrij idolaat van zijn, die mannen die ooit cool dachten te zijn maar ergens het contact met de tijdgeest van 2004 verloren hebben. Mannen met spijkerjasjes en grijze rock'n'roll kapsels. Misschien hier en daar mannen met een mindere mid-life crisis.

Nu houd ik van nature niet zo van Gubbrock. Natuurlijk, toen ik nog in de polder woonde luisterde ik ook naar Golden Earring en Whitesnake, net als iedere andere boerenlul die op de trekker zat 's zomers. En uiteraard vond ik het prachtig, die lange kijk-mij-'ns-veel-noten-per-seconde-kunnen-spelen gitaar-solo's. En uiteraard wilde ik ook mannelijk zijn met geruite flannellen overhemden en zo. Maar sindsdien is er veel veranderd.

Derhalve dacht ik ook nooit dat ik een typische Gubbrock-band zou gaan promoten tijdens mijn "De keus van Chris" serie. Maar nu is het dan toch zo ver. Ik ga een Creedence Clearwater Revival lied kiezen. Eigenlijk begon deze ellende met een computerspel wat ik vorige week maandag van Lisa kreeg. Voor m'n verjaardag. Het spel heet Battlefield Vietnam, en de makers hebben er 27 liedjes ingelegd die tijdens het spel gespeeld worden. Allemaal liedjes die ook op een typische "Tour of Duty" verzamelaar staan.

En dat heb ik veel zitten spelen. Zonder internet thuis zelfs, want de single-player mode is ook heel OK. En toen merkte ik dat er niets is dat beter is dan het hard (en dan bedoel ik ook hard) over de luidspreker horen schallen van Creedence als je met je Huey een hot LZ probeert te bereiken. Krachtige muziek voor krachtige mannen die met krachtige wapens rond rennen. Kan het allemaal meer mannelijk worden? Dacht het niet, nee.

En daar houd ik dan toch wel weer van. Da's nou rock'n'roll. Ik weet 't, 't is tragisch, en ik ben er vroeg bij, die mid-life crisis. Al op m'n negenentwintigste. Maar wat doet een mens er aan?

Luister daarom hier naar het twee minuten en achttien seconden durende Fortunate Son.

In de autoradio...

Welcome to my dream

Soms heb je van die momenten als je voor je CD-verzameling staat. Dan zie je zo'n plaat waarvan je bijna bent vergeten hoe de muziek klinkt. Zo ook vandaag. M'n MC 900 ft. Jesus plaat. Ooit in 1998 gekopieerd van Ramon Verdel, de man die me overigens ook aan de Cake en de Morphine kreeg. Dank je, waar je ook moge zijn, Ramon.

Afijn, meegenomen en in de CD-speler gestopt toen ik eenmaal Lisa bij d'r werk had afgezet. Zij had het allemaal niet zo gewaardeerd geloof ik. Ze heeft al problemen met Hip-Hop, maar de alternatieve meuk met cynische of manische teksten gaan er al helemaal niet in als koek. Maar ikzelf was dus wel blij verrast. Het is gewoon een hele fijne alternatieve hip-hop plaat met interessante teksten die me ergens aan het boek "American Psycho" doen denken. Zelfde opgefokte op-de-grens-van-de-waanzin-in-Almere stemming, als het ware.

Blijkt, na enig onderzoek, dat MC 900 ft. Jesus een rare man uit Dallas, Texas is die z'n artiestnaam aan een preek van een zekere Oral Roberts ontleende. Ik vind het zowel kekke als gekke muziek. Het is in ieder geval aardig te zien dat blanke mannen zich ook voor M&M met Hip-Hop bezig hebben gehouden.

Luister hier naar twee nummers van het album "Welcome to my Dream", Adventures in Failure en Killer inside Me.

De keus van Chris IV

Behind the music

Er zijn een paar kanten van de Rock die ik eigenlijk helemaal niet zo op prijs stel. De Prog, Psychedelische en Symfonische rock zijn in mijn ogen allemaal niet zo cool. Ik heb een collega, Mattias, en die man heeft de meest bizarre platen-verzameling die ik ooit gezien heb. Over 5000 platen in alleen die hoek. Met veel West-coast rock. Muziek die ergens wel op rock lijkt, maar eigenlijk fusion is.

Toch zijn er een paar van die bands in die hoek die ik wel waardeer. Het in 1995 opgerichtte, Zweedse The Soundtrack of our Lives is daar ??n van. Die mensen hebben heel veel naar mensen als Pink Floyd, Barrett, Genesis, Zappa en vele anderen geluisterd, en zijn vervolgens zelf liedjes gaan maken. Eigenlijk is het vrij pretentieuze meuk, zoals gezegd med inslag van Pink Floyd, maar toch kan ik ze wel waarderen. En dat doet ergens wel pijn, want ik haat dat soort muziek eigenlijk. Omdat het in veel gevallen overge?ntellectualiseerde (als dat woord bestaat) instrument-masturbatie is.

Iets wat ook pijn doet is dat die West-Coast mensen Steely Dan ook in die hoek schuiven. Maar da's een discussie die ik niet hier ga voeren (ook omdat ze erg genoeg wel een beetje gelijk hebben en zo). In plaats daarvan ga ik gewoon een liedje van het album "Behind the Music" presenteren. Dit album is goed. Het is iets minder trippy dan hun eerste twee albums, "Welcome to the Infant Freebase" en "Extended Revelation". Gelukkig maar.

Na veel prakkezeren heb ik dan toch maar niet het hardere "Sister Surround" op de speellijst voor de compilatie gezet. Je kunt 'm hier toch downloaden omdat ik 't gewoon een lekker nummer vind. Maar de uiteindelijke keuze is deze keer gevallen op een iets rustiger nummer. Luister hier naar Ten Years Ahead van The Soundtrack of our Lives.

De keus van Chris III

Ritual de lo Habitual

Ok, nu heb ik de kritiek van Arno ter harte genomen en heb ik dan maar 'ns iets opgesnord wat Arno waarschijnlijk wel Rock zou noemen. In het kader van de pure, onvolwassen lol ben ik genoodzaakt een Jane's Addiction nummer ten tonele te voeren. Als dat nou geen rock is weet ik 't niet meer hoor.

Het album Ritual de lo Habitual kwam uit in 1990, en ik herinner me die video nog van m'n MTV-dagen... Een man die zich in een supermarkt als zwangere vrouw verkleed om vervolgens de tent leeg te jatten. Het hele album is een uiting van de op z'n zachtst gezegd boheemse levensstijl van de band, met de zanger Perry Farrell schreeuwend en schoppend aan de leiding.

Deze mensen combineerden hippie-dom, drugs, rock'n'roll en surf-lifestyle met een schop en een knipoog naar het etablissement. Het nummer wat je hier kunt downloaden is een van de meest funky rock-liedjes die er zijn, en doet qua stijl wel denken aan bepaalde dingen van de Red Hots.

Ik kan me voorstellen dat er heden ten dage nog maar weinigen zijn die zich Jane's Addiction herinneren. Ze speelden (met andere gitarist en bassist) van de zomer in Stockholm, in een 1000-man zaal die Cirkus heet. Er waren toch heel wat mensen van verschillende leeftijden en subculturen aanwezig. Meer dan verwacht. Maar toen ze eenmaal aan 't spelen waren was ik verkocht. Ik had tot dusver de albums nooit zo spectaculair gevonden, maar dat concert was ??n van de betere die ik ooit heb gezien, ook met name door het charisma en de energie van Perry Farrell, die ouwe junk.

Hier dus hun grote hit: Been caught stealing. Enjoy!

De keus van Chris II

In the aeroplane over the sea

De zoektocht door de krochten van de rockmuziek gaat door. In dit geval kwam ik in m'n platencollectie m'n Neutral Milk Hotel-CD tegen. In the aeroplane over the sea is een rock plaat met inslag van lo-fi. E?n recensent ging ooit zover te zeggen dat Neutral Milk Hotel als een fanfare-band op een Acid-trip te beschrijven was, en daar had de goede man groot gelijk in.

Wat voor rock is dit dan? Willen ze wat zeggen? Waarschijnlijk. Zijn ze controversieel? Waarschijnlijk. Willen ze schoppen? Zeer zeker, maar waartegen precies? Willen ze schreeuwen? Uiteraard. En ze doen het ook. Luidkeels en hevig. Maar waarover is de vraag. Je weet 't nooit met die mensen.

De keuze moest gemaakt worden. Het hele album is briljant, maar ik wilde of de sexuele frustratie van Two-headed Boy hier presenteren, of de algehele frustratie van het openings-nummer King of Carrot Flowers pt. 1.

Two-headed Boy is een vaartuig van vijf en een halve minuut waarin de zanger op gepassioneerde wijze z'n frustraties uitschreeuwd, alleen ondersteund door z'n eigen akoestische gitaar. Dit nummer is harder, groter en meer Rock dan alles wat Metallica met hun Symfonische orkesten ooit zullen kunnen doen.

Maar ondanks alles viel de keus op King of Carrot Flowers pt. 1. Dit is een twee minuten durend juweeltje met de meest macabere text die er op het album te vinden is. En dat zegt wat...

And mom would drink until she was no longer speaking,
and dad would dream of all the different ways to die,
each one a little more than he would care to try...

Without further ado: The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. One.

De keus van Chris I

Ik zat laatst bij Baviaan.net de "Verzamelzut"-berichten te lezen, en dacht bij mezelf dat ik dat idee ook wel 'ns kon jatten. Dus vandaar deze eerste keus van Chris.

Ik zit er over te denken om een 10- of 12-tal sporen te kiezen die op ??n of andere manier het genre rock belichamen. Rock, een verschrikkelijk misbruikt woord voor een verschrikkelijk misbruikt genre. Rock betekend niet Pink Floyd in de zoveelste re-hash van hun psychedelische zaken. Rock betekend niet de Rolling Stones die na dertig jaar nog steeds verdomd saaie blues-rock met pretenties ten tonele voeren. En rock betekend zeer zeker niet een Jimi Hendrix die met z'n gitaar staat te flossen.

Wat betekend rock dan wel? Rock is vrijwel nooit gelukkig. Het is tenslotte geen gitaar-pop, dames en heren. Rock moet schoppen, controversieel zijn, niet aan te horen zijn of wellicht diep deprimerend zijn. Het gaat tenslotte om de zwarte schapen in muziek-land, de mensen die iets willen schreeuwen. Of het moet gaan om pure, onvolwassen lol.

E?n van de bandjes die voor dat laatste staan, de pure onvolwassen lol, zijn de Detroit Cobras. Een vrij pretentieloze band, eigenlijk een cover-band zelfs, die jaren 50 en 60 surf-rock en rock'n'roll speelt. Doet me denken aan iets wat George Thoroughgood ooit zei: Our music may be like a cheap cheeseburger, but I do like a cheeseburger every now and then... En zo is het nou eigenlijk ook met de Cobras.

Hier dan het eerste lied van de serie: Hey Sailor. Het nummer komt van de plaat Life, Love and Leaving.

Kan inte l?ta bli...

Jag har blivit tvungen (ahem) att titta p? dagens s?ndning av Melodifestivalen fr?n det vackra, det pittoreska, det lantliga Karlstad.

L?t mig fatta mig kort:

Nummer 2, 5 och 6 ?verstiger inte det mediokra. De ?r OK och inget mer. Snarare mindre. Nummer 1 och 7 b?r slaktas. Nummer 3 och 8 b?r torteras p? n?got torg. Det ?r travestier av n?nting som i grund och botten ?r inget fel p?. Nummer 4 b?r raka sig. Get a haircut and get a real job. Fy fan. Bandana. Anno 2004.

Typische Zaterdag...

Vandaag voor het eerst sinds tijden weer 'ns een ouderwetse Zaterdag gehad. Voor ik Lisa leerde kennen en uit een rugzak begon te leven, hadden m'n vrienden Carl-Fredrik en Lars en ik een routine. We aten elke Zaterdag-ochtend brunch bij een caf? dat "Food" heet en in het midden van de stad ligt. Daarna plachtten wij dan naar Record Hunter te lopen om daar wat CD's te beluisteren en kopen.

Vandaag was dus weer 'ns zo'n dag. Lekker hoor. De Oogst bestond schandelijk genoeg uit vier schijven. Geld heb ik op 't moment niet in overvloed, dus het is maar goed dat ik een fikse korting het opgebouwd bij die mensen.

Bergman Rock is dus eigenlijk Bob Hund. Bob Hund is ??n van de beste punk/alternatieve rock bands die Zweden (en wat mij betreft de wereld) rijk is geweest. Het probleem is dat ze in het Sk?nsk zongen, een dialect wat door veel Zweden moeilijk gevonden wordt, laat staan dat anderen er wat van brouwen. Bovendien waren ze Bob Hund zat. De band had 't te makkelijk, ze hadden teveel cult status opgebouwd. Daarom dus dit album, met een nieuwe bandnaam en in het Engels. Luister hier naar Help The Band.

The Pixies is natuurlijk een band die niet uit de verzameling van een zichzelf respecterende indie-liefhebber mag ontbreken. Die mensen zijn eigenlijk de peetvaders van de grunge en indie uit Amerika wat mij betreft. Het album Surfer Rosa uit 1988 heeft dus ten langen leste z'n weg naar m'n CD-kast gevonden. Luister hier naar Where Is My Mind.

The Cardigans heb ik altijd al van gehouden, van Lovefool af hebben die mensen gewoon strakke muziek gemaakt. Nina Persson's uitstapje met het Solo-project A Camp vond ik niet geslaagd. Het was wel gelikt, maar miste elke vorm van cohones. Cardigans' nieuwe album "Long Gone Before Daylight" is echter weer van grote klasse. Misschien wel het beste wat ze ooit gedaan hebben tot nog toe. Luister hier naar Please Sister.

Kings of Convenience zijn gewoon de beste singer/songwriters die Noorwegen (en wat mij betreft de wereld, bla bla) rijk is. Die mensen hebben voor de rest ook heel leuk samengewerkt met de mensen van R?yksopp en doen gewoon mooie muziek maken. Het album "Quiet is the New Loud" had ik al lang gebrand, maar na twee jaar genieten toch maar 'ns gekocht. Ik hoorde ze voor het eerst op P3 in 2000 op een regenachtige dag in de file, en sindsdien ben ik verliefd op dat album. Luister hier naar I Don't Know What I Can Save You From.

Slaaptekort...

Soms heb je het idee dat je in een film-sc?ne zit die zich steeds herhaalt. Zo was het ook gisteravond. Natuurlijk had iedereen in m'n woning-cooperatie de wasserette het hele weekeind geboekt, dus kon ik tussen negenen en twaalven aan de slag. Dan heb je nog mazzel dat je in Uppsala woont, want in Stockholm doen ze gewoon na tienen de stroom afsluiten.

E?n van de weinige voordelen met die gedeelde washokken in dit land is dat het vaak van die industri?le wasmachines en -drogers zijn. Dus 20 Kg was duurt maar een uur om schoon te krijgen, en dan anderhalf om het strijkvrij droog te krijgen. Maar daar moet je op wachten. Want er staan anderen in de rij. Zo gisteren natuurlijk ook.

"Ik ben moe", zei Lisa, "ik ga maar 'ns naar bed". Geen zin hebbend de was 's ochtends in allerijl binnen te halen zei ik dat ik "zo ook kom". Iets wat ik eigenlijk haat, want op ??n of andere parano?de manier doet me dat apart naar bed gaan altijd vermoeden dat ik in een slecht huwlijk ben beland. Maar zo gezegd zo gedaan.

Nu rook ik tegenwoordig Javaanse Jongens, iets wat ik in Nederland nooit deed, en ook iets wat door EP's Trailer Park kernachtig bezongen werd met de woorden When we broke up, we both started smoking.. Dus niet getreurd, ik kon een peuk roken, wat met m'n site vogelen en een episode FarScape bekijken. Men valt terug in vrijgezellen-gedrag. Om half twee haalde ik toch de was maar 'ns op, om daarna nog 'ns een robbertje Call of Duty te spelen en de huizen aan de andere kant van de straat te fotograferen. Al met al half vier voordat je slaapt.

Op m'n balcon staand kwam ik tot de conclusie dat ik als nachtbraker me op een hele tastbare manier aan iedereen en diens bestaan ontkoppeld voel. Je bent, als je zo laat op bent zonder redenen of alcohol, verworden tot een voyeur, een buitenstaander die alleen maar observeert. Kijken naar de mensen en hoe ze hun lichten uitdoen, kijken naar de hemel die schittert in al z'n stilte, kijken hoe de laatste nachtbus, grauw en leeg, zich een baan ploegt door de half bevroren sneeuw, het groene gezicht van de chauffeur wat je meewarig aankijkt in het voorbijgaan.

En toen kwam het. Het beroemde punt in de nacht waarop de rasechte nachtbraker zich de eeuwige vraag stelt: *NU* naar bed om een paar uur slaap te krijgen, of er gewoon schijt aan hebben en vroeg naar het werk gaan?

Grammisgalan

Medans tiden Chris spacklar v?ggen h?r i vardagsrummet passar jag p? att skriva n?gra rader om den "fenomenala" svenska grammisgalan som visades p? tv4 nu i veckan som gick. Som sann musik?lskare var jag nyfiken p? programmet, ?ven om jag anade att jag skulle bli besviken. Galor av det slaget brukar s?llan vara nydanande, intressanta eller tillfredsst?llande p? n?got vis. Tyv?rr skulle min profetia visa sig vara sann.

Tv4 hade sammanfattat denna galakv?ll p? Berns i Stockholm till ett ca 50 min l?ngt program. Att Per Gessle fick fyra grammisar, Lisa Miskovsky fick pris som ?rets kvinnliga artist och att pris f?r ?rets b?sta rockgrupp gick till Cardigans var v?l inte s? ov?ntat och kanske helt i sin ordning. Min f?rtvivlan h?ngde inte p? det. Nej, den riktade jag mot etablissemanget; publiken (vilken jag f?rmodar bestod av artisterna sj?lva samt skivbranschen i det stora hela).

Det g?r mig h?gst irriterad att se hur m?nniskor, bara f?r att de tillh?r denna speciella kategori; musikpersonligheter, beter sig p? ett s?pass respekl?st och ov?rdigt s?tt. Kanske ?r det bara ett beteende som de flesta oftast kallar f?r "tuffhet" och som man egentligen inte ska bry sig om (ett beteende som jag i och f?r sig alltid haft sv?rt f?r). F?r det ?r nog ansett som tufft att sj?lv sitta och prata medans den som f?r pris st?r p? scen och vill utf?ra sitt tacktal, tufft att st? och skrika "gubbdj?vlar" till alla m?n i publiken bara f?r att de ?r m?n (kanske inte b?sta s?ttet att f? musikbranschen att bli mer intresserade av kvinnliga artister vilket var syftet), tufft att dricka sig aspackad och f?r att inte tala om tufft att se s? fruktansv?rt uttr?kad ut.

Min stora beh?llning i hela detta 50 min l?nga program var den lugna och f?r mig till synes ?dmjuka artisten som fick utm?rkelsen ?rets nykomling: Jos? Gonz?lez. Med en gitarr och i fullst?ndigt vanliga kl?der gick Gonz?lez in p? scen, spelade en av sina l?tar, gick ut och gav en intervju i vilken han till skillnad fr?n m?nga andra svarade helt begripligt p? fr?gorna som st?lldes. Tack Gonz?lez, f?r att du gav mig en anledning till varf?r jag ?verhuvud taget hade satt p? tv'n vid denna tidpunkt. Skivan inhandlas p? m?ndag! I mellantiden finns l?ten Heartbeat h?r.

U.n.p.o.c.

De laatste tijd heb ik veel naar u.n.p.o.c. lopen luisteren. Erg fijne plaat voor degenen die een goed robbertje lo-fi met wat inslag van surf-rock kunnen waarderen. Leuk hoor.