Domestic Partner put down The Times to let me know that Gail Collins had made the same observation about Paul Ryan’s water consumption that Dybbuk loudly complained of during the debate.
“Yet no one offers him a column”, she complained incredulously.
There was never such a sign of incredulity when we discussed why no one had offered me a column.
“Can you imagine if Biden drank so much water?” I responded while Stevie Winwood leading the Spencer Davis Group blared in the background. “I could just hear him saying ‘excuse me folks, but you can’t buy this stuff, only rent it. Just keep on listening to him lie until I get back.’”
As I listened to the most soulful white man not named Charlie Rich squeeze every bit of pain out of “Every Little Bit Hurts” in a manner that made you believe it was actually real soul and not Motown, and the weekend morning beckoned, I started to dread the thought of another column about politics, almost as much as I dreaded Winwood’s solo work or the thought of Tuesday’s debate.
I got up and looked at my Facebook and found this invite:
Think of 20 albums that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, emotions. These are the albums that, no matter what they were thought of, musically shaped your world.
“At Last,” I thought, “An Opportunity to Wank on My Home Court.”
Thus is what came to mind today–but it could easily be 20 different artists, with 20 different records. Can't believe I left out Dylan, the Who and so many other favorites.
1) Meet The Beatles: I No longer even own it in that form–but once Linda Dabagian brought it for show and tell at my kindergarten class at Thomas Edison School in Fair Lawn, I had to have it. My first Rock record (my previous favorite had been the Danny Kaye record where he sang "Mommy, I Wanna Drink of Water") One of my three indelible kindergarten memories. The others are Ms. Kunihero crying when the President was shot, and Debbie Kuntz pulling down her underpants.
2) The Velvet Underground and Nico: The first time I posted an autobiographical piece here, it was written around "Heroin," because though I never tried it, I understand the appeal of unhealthy addiction. Plus, "I'll Be Your Mirror" was our wedding song.
3) Leonard Cohen: New Skin for the Old Ceremony. "Is This What You Wanted" may be the story of my life with women, which means it is the story of my life. Plus "Lover, Lover Lover," "Field Commander Cohen" and a bunch of other songs I swear I finally understood one night when I'd drank way too much, but couldn't explain now. Also, the first time Leonard had production worthy of his poetry (something Phil Spector couldn't manage for him).
4) Nick Lowe: Pure Pop for Now People. I now own this in its original British title, "Jesus of Cool," with the missing American tracks as bonuses, but the American version had a far superior track order, and opened my ears to the entire new wave. The Basher is the world's most talented plagiarist–love the way "Tonight" rips off "It's Only Love." (or on another album, the way "I Knew the Bride" rips off "You Never Can Tell") And, for many years, "Born Fighter" was my personal anthem (until I burnt out–it's now "After the Fire" by Pete Townshend)
5) & 6) Cream: Disraeli Gears and Derek and the Dominoes: Layla and Other Love Songs. I was a musical illiterate, knowing little beyond the Beatles, Paul Simon, Dylan and the Who, before they guy across the hall, Steve Becker, opened up my ears. These two albums led me into the blues. In addition, the second really summed up the misery of falling for your best friend's girl and managing to hook up, however temporarily, an experience which occupied way too much of my brain at the time.
7) The London Howling Wolf Sessions. Generally far inferior to the originals, but I'd never of heard the originals, but for being lead here by the Clapton obsession described above. I own pretty much everything Wolf issued (have the lps they issued in Japan in the 80s which collect up EVERYTHING.) To me, the revelation is actually the psychedelic album Marshall Chess made him do a few years before (with Pete Cosey, later the lead guitarist on Miles' "Agartha").
The young scion of the Chess brothers also made Muddy do such an album, with the same buncha hotshots, and Muddy, ever the good sport, especially when a check is involved, does his best to be a pro and play along; he even did a sequel. By contrast, Wolf is pissed and sounds it, and pretty much just ignores the wah-wahs and gimmicks and just does his thing, his way, with no concessions.
Btw, the band does sound pretty great, in its own way, but in both cases, the singer and the band sound like they're on two different records. The diff is Muddy sounds that way because he doesn't get it, and Wolf sounds that way because he doesn't care.
8) Beach Boys: Pet Sounds. Brian Wilson went crazy trying to top “Sergeant Pepper,” when, in reality, he already had. And has there ever been a better love song than "God Only Knows"?
9) Aretha: I Never Loved a Man. Aretha, previously a child of Gospel turned pop singer, finds her soul. Plus, it was about time I mentioned a woman already. Sorry, Joni (and I don’t mean Yoswein).
10) & 11) Joe Turner: The Boss of the Blues and Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson: Old Kidney Stew is Fine. Definitively Jazzy Blues Shouter albums by definitive jazzy blues shouters, and why Jump Blues will always be my alltime favorite music. The first has the Basie band, the 2nd, T-Bone Walker almost stealing the show on guitar. Music of indescribable beauty, passion and lusty fun.
12) & 13) The Clash: London Calling & Talking Heads: Fear of Music. The Heads probably made better albums than this one, but I'm not sure anyone ever made a better album than London Calling. But, they're included because I've spent most of my adult life in politics, and the Heads' "Life During Wartime" describes the last week of a political campaign better than anyone else ever has, while the Clash's "Death or Glory" contains some of the best lines about politics ever written, particularly those about cheap hoods making their bargains with the world, and those who fuck nuns later joining the church.
14) Frankie Miller: Highlife. What little of substance about music I've stuck into my blog (try: this, this, and this, as well as [in spirit] this) has been about, a la Greil Marcus, miscegenation as the defining force in American culture. And what could be a better example than New Orleans (our least American City and therefore our most American) genius Alan Toussaint and a group of NOLA's best musicians (can't remember if it's the Meters or Chocolate Milk) backing up a Scotsman who sounds a little like Dr. John or Joe Cocker on a buncha newly written NOLA classics. I once saw Toussaint build virtually an entire show around songs from this album. This record carries gumbo to a whole new level. What could be more American than that?
15) Roy Clark & Clarence Gatemouth Brown: Makin Music. The answer to the question posed at the end of (14). A journeyman country singer/comedian meets the 2nd greatest Texas Blues guitarist and makes a swing album. G-d, I love this country!
16) The Kink Are the Village Green Preservation Society: This is what I imagine the British equivalent of Americana sounds like (as opposed what the British channeling Americana sound like–that would be "Muswell Hillbillies"). "Face to Face" and "Something Else" are better albums, but this record is something much bigger.
17) James Brown: Solid Gold. James on disco musicians: "I taught them everything they know, but I didn't teach them everything I know." Opened my ears to funk.
18) Funkadelic: America Eats Its Young. George Clinton's White Album; his scope and method–if number 17) is the Mishna, this is the Gemara. And the bridge between Sly and Prince.
19) The Immortal Otis Redding. "I've Got Dreams To Remember." Don't we all?
20) Miles Davis: Agartha. The best Jimi Hendrix Album. Ever.
Stevie has stopped singing and the newly delivered copy of Ruth Brown’s “Black is Brown and Brown is Beautiful” awaits.