Archive for December, 2018

Mythos – eccentricity over greatness

Saturday, December 29th, 2018

Mythos
Oriental Journey – Hero’s Death
Transatlantik Non-Stop
Harry Chanceless
Concrete City
Quasar
Flut-e-Quenzer: The Knight

Flute really had its time in the rock spotlight in the 70s, didn’t it?

A few weeks back, I wrote about Steve Hillage. One thing I like/respect about Hillage is his willingness to change with the times and embrace new genres. He started as the guitarist of the supremely out-there Gong, went solo with a series of fantastic prog rock albums, shifted gears entirely into synthpop only to take a break from the music scene entirely for over a decade before reinventing himself as ambient/electronic musician. That’s bold.

An artist that went along a similar path to Hillage was Mythos, which started off as a group in 1972 but slowly morphed into a solo project by lead vocalist/flutist/keyboardist Stephan Kaske by the end of the decade. Their 1972 self-titled debut is a well-regarded classic by krautrock die-hards, thanks to its unique combination of jazz, folk and space rock. Their 1975 follow-up, Dreamlab, featured an entirely new line-up save for Kaske, but mostly kept the same sound. It was a little more spacey with some more keyboards thrown in, but I hazard to guess that most fans of their debut dig on that record too.

But things would take a hard turn, and fast. Again with an entirely new line-up, and this time with Kaske taking reigns creatively (he’s the sole credited songwriter on all Mythos releases from this point on), the band would release Strange Guys in 1978, followed by Concrete City in 1979. Both albums completely disregard the band’s penchant for long-form experimental pieces and lieu of hard rock mixed with synthesizer solos and the occasional flute trip. Gary Numan by way of Alice Cooper and Jethro Tull.

The lines between prog and new wave would blur even more with their next release, Quasar, which came out in 1980. I’ve listened to this record over a dozen times since discovering it last month, and I still struggle to describe it. I’ve read comparisons to Ultravox, which make sense, but while early Ultravox was synthpop masquerading as punk rock, I feel like this is prog trying to work on the dance floor. The sequencers and synthesizers are so prominent here. The acoustic drums are the only thing on this album that ground it to any rock sound at all, and they’re often so low in the mix that it barely matters. When the electronic elements mix with Kaske’s flute, the album takes on a creepy vibe. One of the tracks I’m sharing from that album, “Flut-e-equenzer – The Knight” gives Goblin and Carpenter a ride when it comes to instrumental creepiness.

Quasar is Mythos’ best album not only because of its killer combination of electronic and classic rock elements, but because it’s the only album in their entire discography where I would call Kaske’s vocals “passable.” At best. I don’t think it’s unfair to just flat-out say it: Kaske can’t sing. At all. Kaske is probably a keyboardist first, a flutist second, and a vocalist eighth (I mean, I bet he’d be better at plumbing, car repair and a myriad of other things if he gave them a go). Once you get used to it though, there is a charm to his occasionally off-key, always off-kilter way of vocalizing. Kaske isn’t the first singer with no observable singing talent, after all (insert joke about Bob Dylan). And on Quasar, the robotic nature of the music mesh well with Kaske’s vocals, which one could charitably describe “as if a robot impersonating Ian Curtis was reprogrammed to sound like Bryan Ferry on downers.”

But even Kaske had to know that vocals were weak point. In 1982 the “band” (which was finally only just Kaske and no one else) released Grand Prix, and the album is largely an instrumental electronic affair. Most all of the vocals are run through a vocoder and other distortion effects, and are brief at most. Only the hideous “Robot Secret Agents” features Kaske on lead vocals, singing in his natural voice, and boy…that track is…um…something else.

Yikes.

But aside from that, Grand Prix is a damn good record. Prog fans hate it, probably because it’s not a prog album. This is synthpop through and through, composed and performed almost entirely on electronic instruments…with flute, of course. It’s a good album of Kraftwerk-inspired technopop…with flute! I mean, how many albums can you say that about?

Jethro Tull gave flute a bad name, it’s not fair.

I find something oddly charming about Mythos. Their music is just so strange. There are more ambitious and experimental krautrock bands. There are better and more technically proficient prog bands. There are more upbeat and fun synthpop acts. Mythos tried their hands at many a genre, yet mastered none of them. They’re utterly forgotten. Failures three times over. All of their albums have weak spots. The early ones sometimes drag on too much. Their prog albums have their fair share of weak numbers. Grand Prix at times comes off as both dated and an obvious Kraftwerk rip-off. But each of them have their own qualities that make them stand out too. Their first two albums combine folk, jazz and electronics in a way that even most of their fellow krautrockers never even tried. Concrete City and Quasar and their amalgamation of metal and synthetics, create a sound that is at times menacing, and never boring. And Grand Prix is just a really fun, great-sounding record that is as charming as it is dated.

If you dig the sampling of Mythos that I’m sharing tonight, I encourage you to dig deeper and check out their albums proper. Again, I really recommend Quasar the most. But if you like pure early electronic music, you really can’t go wrong with Grand Prix either. Do be careful with their digital re-issues, however. While I haven’t found much fault with the CD copies of Grand Prix and Concrete City that I bought, a lot of reviews of their other albums cite multiple audio defects with their other CD re-issues. With those, it might be best to stick with the original vinyl copies. Thankfully, as literally no one cares about this band, you can usually find them online for a pittance.

Mythos. Occasionally amazing. Usually okay. Sometimes bad. Never boring.

Radiation for Xmas

Sunday, December 23rd, 2018

Tycoon To$h
Children Of The Radiation
Tycoon To$h was a Japanese musician who started out as a member of the early new wave group The Plastics, but later worked as a rapper later in his career. One of his very first songs was “China Syndrome,” a track protesting Japan’s reliance on nuclear energy, rather prophetically calling the idea of building nuclear power plants in a country prone to earthquakes as something so stupid “even a child can understand.”

To$h sadly passed away from cancer in 2017, but before he left us, he cut one more track. And just like “China Syndrome” it was an incendiary attack on Japan’s nuclear power program. As the title suggests, it’s an interpretation of T. Rex’s classic “Children of the Revolution,” with new lyrics lambasting nuclear energy.

I’m no going to get into the pros and cons on nuclear energy here. I got conflicting feelings about it. But I’m sure as hell not going to debate with a Japanese anti-nuclear activist about it – I feel like their views on radiation are a bit more valid and worthy of attention than mine.

I will comment on this song though, it’s fucking rad. It’s basically “Children of the Revolution” re-recorded with really angry lyrics. Get down with that.

T. Rex
Megarex 2
And it got my in the mood to listen to more T. Rex. You know who was dope? T. Rex.

I bought a strange T. Rex remix album in 2017 called, predictably T. Remixes. It got a lot of shit from hardcore T. Rex fans, who saw it as a shameless cash-in. Yeah, they were probably right about that, but it was a pretty good shameless cash-in. Most modern remixes of classic tracks suck, because they try too damn hard to rework the tunes into EDM club bangers. But that album features remixes in the more classic sense of the term, reworkings that are focused more on creative interpretation of the source material than making a track that’ll light up a dance floor.

Anyways, it wasn’t even the first time that T. Rex got the remix treatment. In the mid-80s, two “Megarex” megamixes were issued on vinyl and CD. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it was an anniversary of some T. Rex event. Maybe it was a shameless cash-in. Maybe it was both. Regardless, just like T. Remixes, it’s not bad, especially as megamixes go. The Japanese version of the second mix, which is the one I have, also had a really rad cover. Check out that cover. See, it’s rad.

Sorry for the rather random and poorly researched post tonight. It’s just been a while since my last post and I wanted to get something out. I actually have something a bit more ambitious planned later this week. Of course, like my massive Steve Hillage post, it features an artist that literally almost no one cares about. Hopefully that literally almost no one and the literally almost no one who reads my blog have an overlap! In the meantime, merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and happy Monday to everyone else.

 

 

 

Pop Rock by Pot Pixies

Thursday, December 13th, 2018

Steve Hillage
Alone (Extended Version)
Kamikaze Eyes (Extended Version)
Timelines
Before The World Was Made

Steve Hillage is a guitarist whose work has spanned over 50 years, but I hadn’t heard of him until this year – when I stumbled upon his work in one of the most backwards ways possible.

Earlier in the year I was in a record store in Kichijoji when I happened upon this. The album is by Daevid Allen, and it’s called Divided Alien Playbax 80. I knew nothing about it when I saw it, but I was immediately attracted to the cover. It had a crazy vaporwave vibe to it, despite the fact that it came out in 1982. I gave it a quick listen, decided that it was properly weird, and at 400 yen (about four bucks) I decided to pick it up.

 

Unfamiliar with Allen when I bought the album, I learned that it’s a remix album of a prior release by Allen’s previous group, New York Gong. That group would breakup after it’s sole 1980 album, but the group (sans Allen) would continue as the influential no-wave dance outfit Material. Turns out I accidentally bought an album with Bill Laswell on it (that happens a lot). New York Gong, as its name would suggest, was a New York offshoot of Allen’s original group, Gong.

From there, I decided to give Gong a shot and ,long story short, several months and I don’t know how many albums later, I have become obsessed with the group. They’re utterly mad, an the most obvious example of “music made on drugs to take drugs to” that has ever been committed to wax. Not too soon after discovering the wonderful world of the flying teapot (look it up) I started to seek out solo albums by members of the group, starting with Allen and then moving onto Hillage.

Allen’s solo work is…something else. Sometimes great, but often a bit too insane for my tastes. But Hillage turned out to be right up my alley. Much of his stuff is spacey drugged out insanity for hippies, no doubt about it, but he shows a bit more restraint than his fellow Gongers. His songs sound like actual songs, and not dug-induced hallucinations set to something that kind of resembles music. I’ve bought nearly his entire solo discography now, and can recommend all of it without reservation, he has something for everyone. If you like spaced-out Hawkwind-style guitar work, then you can’t go wrong with his amazing debut Fish Rising, or it’s excellent follow-up L. But I really think Hillage came into his own with his 1978 record, Motivation Radio, where he expands his sound to include even more electronic effects and influences.  He continued on with that sound for his next release, Green, which I’ve learned most people cite as pinnacle of the man’s 70s work. However, I actually prefer his 1979 follow-up Open, it’s eclectic as hell, and I feel it’s a perfect amalgamation of guitar-driven prog rock and the synth-pop sound that would define the following decade.

As a solo artist though, Hillage would only release one more proper studio album, 1982’s For To Next. I don’t know how his fans responded to it at the time, but I can’t imagine that many of them liked it. While his previous work always straddled the line between pop and the avant-garde, between progressive rock and synth-pop, this album didn’t just jump over into the pop spectrum, it pole vaulted. Hillage’s amazing spacey guitar sound is still there, but as part as synthesizer-heavy pop numbers, many of which could be mistaken for Gary Numan tracks. It goes to show that Genesis and Yes weren’t the only prog acts looking to synthpop to reinvent themselves in the 80s, that’s for sure.

As much as I like For To Next, I do think that’s its probably Hillage’s weakest effort next to his purely ambient 1979 Rainbow Dome Musick, which is too mellow even more my Tangerine Dream-loving ass. It’s simultaneously not synth-pop enough and not prog enough. I feel like he had to move more in one direction. Either embrace his proggy side, or dive head first into pop ala Inivisible Touch.

 

After working mostly as a producer in the 80s, he’s since committed himself solely to electronic music. Today, he releases music as System 7, alongside his partner Monique Giraudy. They have a prog rock side to them, but they’re much more ambient than anything else. Think The Orb. I sadly don’t have much by them yet, but I’m still listening to his solo stuff so much I’m in no hurry.

Anyways, I’ve blathered on for nearly 800 words without even mentioning the songs I’m sharing tonight! These four numbers come from 12″ singles taken from the For To Next album. The original versions of “Alone” and “Kamikaze Eyes” are on the album proper, while the other tracks are B-sides. “Alone” has a good riff, but it’s the weaker of the two. “Kamikaze Eyes” is a banger of a track, I hope it was the lead single for the album, it’s by far the best number on it. Catchy as hell, good beat, good guitar solo, good lyrics. Great all around. Definitely should’ve been at least a minor hit.

Both “Timelines” and “Before The World Was Made” are instrumentals, and good ones at that. Again, while For To Next isn’t the best album, I really wish Hillage would’ve experimented more with this style, he could’ve had something.

Anyways, if you’ve read all of this (congrats) and you want to know a good starting off point for Hillage’s solo stuff, I say you can’t go wrong with L, Green, Open or Motivation Radio (Fish Rising is good too, but a little rougher around the edges). Also, his Live Herald and Dusseldorf live albums are good starting points too, as they both feature a lot of his best work. He was also a member of the group Khan, and their sole offering, 1972’s Space Shanty, is some good prog-ass prog if that’s your scene.

And if you’re thinking about getting into Gong, well, that’s a bit trickier. I’d say either start with You or Flying Teapot. If either of those albums don’t drive you insane, then you’ll probably dig the other stuff by Gong proper. Be warned there are two Gongs. When the band broke up, it was reborn as Pierre Moerlen’s Gong and they are way more jazz fusion than prog. Seriously. You’ve been warned.