Did you know that there’s no Marshall Tucker in the Marshall Tucker Band? (Just like there’s no Lynyrd Skynyrd.) What’s with these southern bands? The MTB doesn’t rock nearly as hard as Skynyrd and certainly doesn’t have the chops of the Allman Brothers Band but sometimes, like when you are doing dishes, just a nice hummable tune is all you are looking for. This CD — after living deep in the Hoffman archives with hardly a passing thought for 15 years or so — has made it into the countertop player and earned itself many repeat turns.
I tried listening Smashing Pumpkins’ lengthy double album for the first time since it came out. Impossible. But, in doses, it is terrific.
The other night, cocked on red wine, Appetite for Destruction came on. Oh, good lord, it is terrific. So much cowbell. Between “It’s So Easy,” “My Michelle,” “Mr. Brownstone” — and then all the MTV hits — forget about it! I admit it is a little exhausting by the end (all that suburban theraputic alienation starts to wear on you when you are out of high school) but it is remarkable just how unsurpassed this cock rock masterpiece is.
The Orb — seems to always come up in random late at night as I am at the computer. You’ll get no complaints from me.
Since I’m currently missing the Altman retrospective at IFC Center, I figured I’d dig this up — the second of the “Kansas City” albums. It is good. But, frankly, not as good as I remember. You might be better served just finding source material or listening to current albums by the talents on display here. Somehow, this CD seems kinda silly in retrospect. (But I’ve been on something of an anti-Jazz kick these last few months, in direct contrast to most of my adult life. Who can say why?)
The real discovery of late is the “Greatest Hits” of Ian Hunter as presented by Mr. William S. Repsher. This is a nice bordertown between pot hazy 70s guitar rock and snappy pop. Some of the later tunes have a near Brill Building quality to it. . . but a little wasted. . .and English. Still processing this.
Ian Hunter wasn’t huge in the 70s, but if you were into rock, and listening to your local AOR rock station (for me, WMMR out of Philly and WZZO out of Allentown), he was all over it. Stuff like Once Bitten Twice Shy (don’t even get me going on the boring Great White cover), Just Another Night, Cleveland Rocks, etc. Just great, fun rock music — which is why I so soundly rejected grunge and that whiny “daddy doesn’t love me” 90s rock — just not wired into my musical DNA to be that morose. In the 70s, if daddy didn’t love you, you rocked, you didn’t whine about it.
I may have only included one ballad on that collection, but he had a bunch — they feel sort of samey to me, so I have a much easier time with the rock songs. And on nearly every album, he’d have a song about how England was dying, and how morose their social system was … while he chose to live in America. Think he may stil live in Connecticut. Had I been English, I would have thought, “What do you care, you yank bastard.” If I could interview him now, I’d ask: “How does it feel to know that despite your predictions on every album, England’s going to outlive you?”