Showing posts with label Polydor Records. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Polydor Records. Show all posts

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Brian Eno - Ambient 1: Music For Airports (1978)


As great as Brian Eno's non-ambient albums are (the one he did with David Byrne can be downloaded here); I've always been intrigued with this one. It's got more feeling than any other record; just atmospheres, textures and landscapes of the mind- it's also one of the most demanding records I own because of what it asks of the listener.

Most music with words (or even guitars or saxophones or drums or etc.) pretty much tell you how to feel; or rather what the musician was feeling at the time of recording. Eno has stated that his intention with Music For Airports was to defuse the tenseness and anxiety of air travel by creating "sound installations" to be played on continuous loops in the terminal, and as to not be noticeable to the listener. A sort of non-invasive procedure, done musically.

Robert Wyatt helps out on the piano on two tracks; I hate to use the word "track" here because the four pieces are so seamless, it really should be taken as a whole. This is from the 1983 Working Backwards box set so the last track is four minutes longer than the CD or vinyl pressings.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Mandrill - Just Outside of Town (1973)


Funny story about this album; I used to have it. I used to have a lot more records actually, but during the "Big Move West '06" I realized that car/trunk space was insanely valuable, so a few hundred records didn't make it out here with me. Just one crate, I grabbed the best (and most salable) items and stuffed them between clothes and assorted memorabilia deemed "move worthy". My younger brother got the records.

The funny thing about this actual record, is that while I owned it, I never knew how it got into my possession. It was either a) my parents (extremely doubtful), b) a leftover item in a garage sale-binge (I used to be able to buy a whole box/crate back in the Philly suburbs at a yard sale for like $10) or c) it magically appeared in my collection (it didn't even have a jacket, just the actual vinyl record slipped into that thin paper sleeve insert). Option b seems to be the most reliable choice.

First time I listened to it; however, there was no doubt in my mind that this was some of the funkiest stuff ever recorded by man. Sure, there's some ballads and whatnot, but mostly just pure funk/rock fusion going on here. I never got another copy of it (I've run into a few of the more recent re-issues at local record stores but I'm holding out for an original- I want to buy someone's history, like the history I passed on by passing this record on).

But I've learned my lesson; next time I move, every last record is coming with me...

Sunday, April 11, 2010

João Gilberto - João Gilberto (1973)


This is the album I listen to after a really tough day at work. João Gilberto (pronounced zhwan) on guitar and vocals, Sonny Carr on percussion. It's soothing and hypnotic in its easy-going, laid-back simplicity. Gilberto's calming voice, understated yet excellent guitar work and Carr's reliance on the bare minimum of a beat is what draws me to the record.

The album has only two originals (Undiú and Valsa) and features tracks from his friends, fellow Brazilians Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil and Antonio Carlos Jobim. If the only thing you've ever associated with this man is his album with Stan Getz (Getz/Gilberto; 1964) then get this; missing is Getz's saxophone and string arrangements- all that's left behind is the bones.

And it's entirely in Portuguese!

Saturday, April 10, 2010

The Cure - Seventeen Seconds (1980)

Before they went pop, The Cure was a simplistic band, artless and unpretentious. Here on Seventeen Seconds, we catch the band as a quartet; Robert Smith (the only mainstay of the group, as it was his singular vision that would guide the group up until present time) on vocals, guitar and violin; Simon Gallup on bass; Matthieu Hartley on keys and Laurence Tolhurst on drums. We can see their trajectory from the new wave Three Imaginary Boys album to this and on to the next few albums, reaching lower and lower into darker, more gothic aural landscapes.


At times this record can be both dark and sinister in its downtempo grooves, other times it's propulsive and aggressive. One thing that can be said about this record above all other Cure records is its cohesiveness; all these songs fit with one another like lock and key.

Be careful, this record might just make you miserable- it definitely scared the shit out of me when I was a kid...

Friday, April 9, 2010

Talk Talk - Laughing Stock (1991)


Talk Talk was at first a new wavey synth dance band in the early '80s and morphed into pretentious art-rockers into the '90s, a move that appears (to the label heads at EMI) to be career suicide. I think it's one of the greatest stories of modern music: band makes Duran Duran-esque club tunes, band gets big record deal, band says "fuck off" to synthesizers and '80s excess, band makes three successive records the way they want to make them (1986's The Colour Of Spring, 1988's Spirit of Eden and this album in '91), band loses fans, record deal, etc. Yet band escapes from the industry somewhat unscathed, with suitcase full of money and unflappable creative license to make one of the landmark albums in the post-rock genre. 

I still haven't figured out what post-rock means, but I think this is it. It's actually closer to jazz than anything else. Laughing Stock, if anything- was one of the albums that metaphorically killed the '80s by smashing all barriers associated with what can be considered pop by deconstructing it by its constituent parts and re-assembling it into this sprawling and massive masterpiece.