Click here to read the introduction to this review.

“Southern Accents” was an album that generated a considerable amount of friction within Tom Petty’s camp, to the point of physical violence – Petty broke his hand after punching the wall during the recording of the opening track, “Rebels”. The song and the track that follows (“It Ain’t Nothin’ To Me”) toy with those stereotypes that I mentioned in part 1 of the review, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some Southerners would shoot up copies of the record while “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” plays in the background.

Leaving the subject matter aside (basically “people down South are good-for-nothing louts, they can only raise hell”), the songs are good. “Rebels” is an infectious rocker (even if the production is a bit distracting), and “It Ain’t Nothin’ To Me” is a funky cut showcasing that Petty was in a willfully experimental mood. Well, he had someone that was more seasoned in that to assist him – the song was cowritten with Dave Stewart (better known from his work with Eurythmics), as was the other major curve ball on the disc: the hit “Don’t Come Around Here No More”. It is important to mention that the song had actually been offered for “Long After Dark”. That also gives you a clear indication that the conceptual thread on “Southern Accents” sometimes disappears altogether, in no small part thanks to the disagreements that recording a “concept” caused among Petty and his unit. They were known as rockers, after all. “Southern Accents” was a more polished and (above all) more diverse album. It was also an expensive record, and they labored at it for longer than any of them felt comfortable with at the end. Nowhere is that clearer than on the video for “Don’t Come Around Here No More”. A far, far cry from flagship tunes like “American Girl” and “Refugee”. They only rock at the end, the rest is all the things you can imagine but a rock & roll tune:

The first side finalizes with the title track. I first listened to Johnny Cash’s take on the “Unchained” disc (American II), and it absolutely had me first time around. It is the one “concept” song I deem as respectful and moving, and the lyrics are something which most people can sympathize with it, no matter where they are. But being a Southerner myself I found it so compelling that I bought this album after having listened to Cash’s version just once. As far as Petty and the Heartbreakers’s version goes, I consider it Benmont Tench’s most realized moment with the band.

The second side has one of the most successful experiments of the whole album in the shape of “Make it Better (Forget About Me)”, a song in which New Orleans-styled horns demarcate the territory minutely, while “Spike” tells the tale of a hapless punk who runs into some rednecks. The lyric is witty, but the melody is unremarkable.

The final quarter of the disc is padded with some ho-hum songs – “Dogs On The Run” is an unexciting tune with some exciting riffing, while “Mary’s New Car” is filler any way you look at it. And I swear Los Lobos were to rework it into “Jenny’s Got A Pony”.

The final track is the ballad “Best Of Everything”, and despite two members of The Band being in attendance (and doing what they are known for – Richard Manuel sings and Garth Hudson plays keyboards) it leaves me completely cold.

Finally, it is worth pointing out that there were many songs recorded for this album which were excluded from the final pressing. You can listen to them on the “Playback” boxed set, and these include “The Image Of Me” and “Trailer” – both songs are more likeable that “Dog’s On The Run” and “Mary’s New Car”.

As you can tell from the review, the album on the whole has a high quota of weirdness. That was only natural – there is only so much you can do with rock & roll songs, and while the Heartbreakers wanted to keep on doing what they did well Petty wanted to broach other styles. Nobody would call the album a brilliant one. It can’t even be considered a remarkable addition to Tom Petty’s resume. It was just the ever-obligatory record that any artist who has been putting similar albums for almost a decade has to release. Albums like this one always include some good music, and these songs are often the oddballs. For its part, the songs that stick to the artist’s “classic sound” suffer. And that is the exact definition of “Southern Accents” and the music to be found there. As compelling as “Rebels” is, the production values belittle it. And these production techniques are what drive “It Ain’t Nothin’ To Me” and “Don’t Come Around Here No More” smoothly along. But to be frank, I have seen much worse experiments around, so this disc gets a reasonably good score from me.

Rating: 7.5/10

Issued In 1985, The Album Met With Lukewarm Reviews And Caused Notable Frictions Within The Band. It Was A Top 10 Hit Nonetheless.

Released in 1985, “Southern Accents” is regarded as one of the few failures in Tom Petty’s checkered career. The consensus was that he bit more than he could chew, as he tried to write a conceptual album about the South just to end up painting a sort of contemptible caricature. Now, I am also a Southerner – but from another part of the world. As you know, I live in a country named Uruguay, tucked at the bottom geographical end of South America. That puts me in an interesting position since I can easily understand how certain traditions and conventions are easy to be mocked by people from other parts of the continent, and even the whole world.

I would feel a little miffed if some local musician recorded a conceptual album about people who drink mate and eat dulce de leche indiscriminately while talking about past achievements as far as soccer is concerned. For your information, in that sentence I mentioned our natural infusion (“mate”), one of the endemic dairy products of the country (“dulce de leche”) and I referred to one of the pet themes of conversation among old and young people alike: preterit soccer successes (with Uruguay’s defeat of Brazil in 1950 at Maracaná preeminently among them).

I would be miffed if that happened because setting that down as an album would only perpetuate an image of the country that most people (notably the younger generations) try to elude.

Or do they? As much as some mock drinking mate, when we are traveling abroad and we see someone with a thermos flask (something essential for drinking mate) underneath his arm then we rush to embrace him, proclaiming eternal friendship and a bond that will last through generations to come. And as much as some claimed to hate the talk about soccer, they were the first to post images and slogans on their Facebook profiles about Peñarol (one of the two giants of Uruguayan soccer along with Nacional) when FIFA named it the best team of the 20th Century.

So, there are aspects of every culture that lend themselves to constant mockery. It happens in Uruguay, it happens in England and in happens in Dixie. Yet, if these very same aspects are so prominent it is because they define the way in which people there have always visualized the world. An older generation reveres those things, but the one who comes afterwards looks askance on them. They see it all as a foot rooted in the past, and however brilliant (or not) that past was they just feel the urge to carry on. In a certain way, I guess it is a dialectic process – a source of pride ends up begetting a source of contempt. And (in direct dialectic manner) that source of contempt gives way to something veritable again. And the process of associations and oppositions always revolves around the same items. And those items are like sacred cows. We can talk about them, we can joke about them and it is okay – as long as we are the ones making the jokes. But woe betide the foreigner who makes fun of us based on them.

This introduction was necessary for understanding why an album like Petty’s “Southern Accent” rubbed people the wrong way. Capturing stereotypical elements on a piece of vinyl opens the door to foreign perceptions that end up being a total affront.

Couple the above with the fact that the record is A) the most ‘80s album of his career, and B) the slickest-sounding album he issued, and then the reason why “Southern Accents” failed to connect with punters like previous albums did is more easily discernible.

Continue to part 2: “Southern Accents” analyzed song by song.

Read what I had to say about the original LP here.

The remastered “Odds & Sods” was issued in 1998, effectively becoming the final Who album to be expanded and reissued (leaving aside “My Generation”, which as I am sure you know remained in Shel Talmy’s grip). There was a lot of curiosity to see what was going to be added, and how it would be presented. Well, as it turned out the album length was more than doubled (it went from 11 to 23 tracks), and the new “Odds & Sods” was presented in chronological order. Now the album started with “I’m The Face” and finished with “Water”.

Led by Jon Astley, the archivists unearthed three true gems. The first two were from the sessions for Who’s Next: “Time Is Passing” and “Love Is For Keeping”. Of course, every self-respecting Who fan knew “Time Is Passing” from Pete’s version on “Who Came First”, but The ‘Oo’s version did not lag behind in any sense, and it evinced a gentle vocal by Roger at the time he was truly at the top of the Totem. And the song was fantastic even when it was only half the song – the channels that were meant to be on the left side were missing. As I explained when reviewing “Who Came First”, some bootlegger found them and put the full version together. Good luck if you can find it…

The “new” version of “Love Is For Keeping” was the electric take mentioned on the booklet of the reissued “Who’s Next”. Lesley West (from Mountain) played electric with Pete, and the result was equally as satisfying as “Baby Don’t You Do It” from the bonus-fortified “Who’s Next”.

The final true discovery was to be an outtake from “Quadrophenia“, “We Close Tonight”. But there was something strange about it – the song was credited to Pete but vocals were handled by John and Keith. That was something rare indeed, and the uber developed bass line just makes the question mark on who really composed it stand all the more noticeable. Personally, I think that “We Close Tonight” was the one song John wrote for “Quadrophenia”, and that he eventually chose to discard since he feared it summarized the whole opera in one song.

Elsewhere, collectors were certain thrilled to hear the “Cousin Kevin” demo – originally sung by Keith, the final version on “Tommy” was to be sung by everybody but the effervescent drummer, and have the opposite tone from the demo. There was also a (lame) version of “Young Man Blues” which was recorded at around the same time, and some Eddie Cochran numbers that were considered for “Sell Out”. Those were the live powerhouse “Summertime Blues” and the lesser-known “My Way”.

Finally, a rare acetate provided two early rare recordings of “Baby Don’t You Do It” and “Leavin’ Here”.

By their mere nature, both the original and the remastered “Odds & Sods” could never be more than documents for fans that would do just anything to get their hands on those performances. If anything, some of the “new” tracks just showcased how injudicious was “30 Years Of Maximum R & B” put together, as both “Time Is Passing” and “Love Ain’t For Keeping” could have lent the boxed set just that little more oomph. The same went for “We Close Tonight” – it beat the unreleased demo of “The Real Me” with Kenney Jones hands down.

At the end of the day, this was just a parallel story, and like most parallel stories only those who knew every chapter and incident that had originally taken place could get to the end of it with a satisfied mien, scratch their chins and mumble “So, that was it”. I made this album one of my final Who acquisitions. I advise you to do the same. It doesn’t transmit the sense of brilliance of the band, but (as long as you know the records) it does give you a framework for understanding it more wholly. Most of all, some of the songs show them having real fun in a studio. The story of the band was to be somehow grave from a certain point onwards. It is priceless to be reminded that they could have a good time together, the four of them in the same room. And that is what I bet many fans will treasure as far as this album goes.

Rating:

Original album: 6.5/10
Remastered CD: 7.5/10

"Odds & Sods" Was Compiled By John Entwistle In 1974 At The Band's Behest, In Order To Buy Time For A "Proper" Who Album

“Odds & Sods” was an album of rarities that The Who had John Entwistle assemble while the members of the band were engrossed in other film and career projects. The year was 1974. John came up with an album that had “I’m The Face”, The Who’s very first single from 1964 (when they were known as The High Numbers), a song that was always very popular onstage like “Naked Eye” (from an aborted post “Who’s Next” EP) and the tune that had inspired “Lifehouse”, “Pure & Easy”. That was by far the most notable omission on the finished “Who’s Next” (remember, the band did not choose the songs that were featured – Glyn Johns did), and its inclusion on an official album was long overdue

Two other songs from that troubled but incredibly fruitful period include “Put The Money Down” and “Now I’m A Farmer”. The first is actually every bit as good as any other song Pete wrote about performers and fans. The jawbone synthesizer is also noticeable, if only because it gives Keith a chance to play around the beat like only he could do in his prime. The song also has one of Roger’s most bestial screams ever, I am a bit perplexed that the fact is seldom mentioned.

On the other hand, “Now I’m A Farmer” is a jumble of a song, jumping from a rockier tune to a silly folksier number back and forth and back and forth, and with Keith Moon impersonating an old farmer at the end. The song was even shortly considered for inclusion on “Tommy” right before the band decided to make it a double album – that was a time when they also thought about including “Young Man Blues” on the deaf, dumb and blind boy’s opera.

Entwistle’s one contribution to the album was “Postcard”, a song about the band’s life on the road which was fine, although only devoted fans got the full joke.  (There’s kangaroos and we’re bad news in Australia/Thrown off the plane for drinking beer/So long on the plane it drove us insane/So long on the plane). The song was to be the one and only Entwistle-penned composition to be issued as a Who A-side.

Of course, the album also had “Long Live Rock”, the song in which the band was to remind every punk and tough guy that was to come afterwards that “We were the first band to vomit in the bar/and find the distance to the stage too far”. The song was eventually issued as a single to promote “The Kids Are Alright” in 1979.

“Odds & Sods” also had some early stuff like “Little Billy”, a song that the American Cancer Association had commissioned Pete to write, but which they eventually rejected since they found it too gross for its intended audience – children. The song was also notable for having Keith Moon play a hi-hat.

Likewise, the album had “Faith On Something Bigger”, self-touted by Pete as one his worst acid-fueled compositions. I beg to disagree, seeing that the companion pieces to that period were songs like “Dogs”, and that was released as a single.

Far more substantial was “Glow Girl”, a song that constituted the true womb of Tommy, with its reincarnation ending and the lines “It’s a girl, Ms. Walker, It’s a girl”. If anything, the song showcased how Pete had labored at the famed opera and how the finished piece came from just everywhere. Townshend stated his outright enthusiasm for the inclusion of the song on “Odds & Sods” upon being interviewed by the NME when the album was issued. That interview, incidentally, is used as the accompanying text for the remastered “Odds & Sods” that saw release in 1998. The new version had more than twice the number of tracks the original album had, and you can read about it in part 2 of this review.

Read Part 2 of this review: the remastered “Odds & Sods” scrutinized.

Jeff Buckley

Jeff Buckley is one of the modern legends of music. Bestowed with one of the most expressive voices in history, he drowned in 1997 after having released only one studio album (“Grace”, 1994). He was 30 years of age. A set of demo recordings named “Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk” was polished and issued shortly after his untimely death as a 2 CD set, which also included an album he had recorded with Tom Verlaine and decided to scrap. As it always happens in these cases, posthumous success exceeded all the critical (and commercial) accolades he had reaped during his short life.

“How can somebody be lauded as a legend when he only released one ‘true’ album?”, I hear some say as I make the rounds. I can make no other reply than handing them a copy of “Grace” and pointing at two songs in particular: “Last Goodbye” and “Hallelujah”. I know I am not exaggerating when I say that these two are the songs of the decade. “Last Goodbye” showcases Buckley’s cannonades of sonority and expressivity as barriers that seem unsurpassable are conquered one after the other, culminating in the explosive delivery after the orchestrated break.

“Hallelujah”, on the other hand, is an emotional paradox – a song that can be as uplifting as it can be disheartening. It all depends on the circumstances in which you are playing it. It was arguably Jeff’s highest (posthumous) commercial point, and one of the first “true” digital music smash hits in history. 

For its part, “Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk” just showcased how methodical and exigent Jeff was with himself. It is impossible to say what would have happened had Jeff been given the chance to record the album the way he wanted it, but my two cents are that we would have been in for another real aural treat.

Unfortunately, his first last goodbye was to be a definitive one. But the place he will occupy is secured. His voice is fated to resound through eternity.

And it’s not a cry that you hear at night.

It’s a broken hallelujah. And I can assure you that never, ever again will something that is broken stand so whole and integer.

Name: Spreaker
URL: http://www.spreaker.com

Not every person with thoughts to share about his favorite artists will sit down and tend to a blog or a personal site. The thing is, there are not really that many other options, and none I can think of is as accessible as blogging.

Well, that is set to change thanks to a startup like Spreaker. We can call it a social web radio service. The site will empower just anybody to create his own radio and broadcast whenever he feels like doing it. There are no fees of any kind to be met, as both royalties and bandwidth expenses are covered by Spreaker.

This means that you can host your own talk show and (for example) invite people from you local music scene that you are in good terms with. You can also create a show devoted to your favorite band and play its songs left, right and center. Hint: if you tune in and catch a radio that plays The Who indiscriminately you know who is behind it.

And as a listener, you are given the chance to put together these shows that you tried and liked enough so as to give them a second try. A sort of radio stream is then achievable, and the true social element of this service becomes truly palpable – nothing would prevent you from sharing the link. And nothing would prevent those who receive it from modifying the stream as they see fit, too.

Those who adore music and who have a lot of time on their hands are going to have a field day. And if you thought that the song “This Is Radio Clash” was the coolest thing ever, then be prepared for some long, long nights ahead.

Once's Original Soundtrack Album Is Dominated By Glen Hansard's Songs. Marketa Irglova Has Two Songs In, And The Band "Interference" (With Glen In Tow) Contributes "Gold"

This new section (Original Soundtrack Albums) should have been added to MusicKO last month. I knew that the first album to be featured had to be the OST to “Once”, arguably the most striking musical I have ever seen. And that was what held me for so long. I have lived with the CD for the past month, trying to convince myself that it is every bit as good or essential as the film. And it is not. It is a fine album. But the movie was more than fine in every sense.

The problem might as well lie in Marketa’s solo songs. “The Hill” is not played fully in the movie. It is used in a very specific scene towards the end, and if you take the scene away you are also taking its weight with it. And “If You Want Me” is completely insipid. It dawns on you that what matters is how the song comes to be (the phenomenal street shot), not the finished song. The impromptu “Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy” is a toss-off, and while it is too short to cross anybody it is irrelevant.

Besides, “Say It To Me Now” is somehow limp if you didn’t watch the scene in the movie, with the camera slowly closing in and the Girl clapping as the shot ends.

Still, the album has its fair share of brilliance. I don’t need to tell you about
“Falling Slowly” because the song speaks for itself. I would kill to get my hands on the Oscar performance. All I could find was the performance embedded above, and the moment when Glen and Marketa get the coveted statues. Notice how they cut poor Marketa off. It is a good thing the host brings her back after the break. You can watch it here.

Incredibly enough, my favorite song on the album turns out not to be “Falling Slowly”. It turns out to be “Lies”, the song that accompanies The Guy’s’ flashback. It has a lilting melody and a joint vocal by Glen and Marketa that transmits a lot of fragile (and hence perfect) chemistry. That is the one song that summarizes the movie, and it was what I expected from the whole disc.

A song that definitely works both in the movie and out of it is “When Your Mind’s Made Up”. As you probably remember, it is the first song Glen and his newly-recruited band play in the recording studio. The engineer’s mien goes from “Who cares?” to “Holy Shit!” in a matter of minutes.

The electro-poppy “Fallen From The Sky” is also pleasant enough, whereas “Trying To Pull Myself Away” is certainly more than that. “Gold”, “All The Way Down” and “Once” are harmless, and “Leave” (much like “Say It To Me Now”) works on the strength of Glen’s furious vocal delivery. Glen’s solo numbers mostly work out, in direct contrast to Marketa’s music on the disc.

Again – this is a good album. Actually, it is a very good album. The problem is that when pitched against the movie it is merely a souvenir. It is like a snapshot, like a photograph you take of the best spot that you stayed in when traveling. It captures only a part of the experience. I was sure that in a musical the CD alone would stand on its own two feet, and in a proud way at that. That sadly turned out not to be the case. Watch the movie first. You will love it, adore it, think it over for weeks on end. And if you want a memento, buy the album. But don’t expect it to hit as hard as the film.

Do you enjoy the album half as much if you haven’t watched the movie: No

Well, this is another category I have always been keen on adding as every single OST I have has an incredible emotional value attached to it. These reviews are going to be exactly like the “regular” reviews that you have got to know by now. The difference is that at the end there won’t be a score. Rather, I will cast a verdict regarding whether the OST can be enjoyed if you haven’t seen the movie.

I will start with “Once”, and then move on to “Great Balls Of Fire”, “Elizabethtown”, and even the two volumes of my favorite anime, “Zegapain”.

Name: Tubeoke
URL: http://www.tubeoke.com

This is the kind of site that with some work could become notably more appealing. As it stands right now, it lets you turn YouTube into a (very) basic karaoke. You look up the song (or the artist), and upon picking a video it is played back at you while a second window (situated on the right) displays the lyrics to go with the song.

The idea is simplicity in itself, and the approach so far is nothing to go out of your way for. However, it can turn out to be exponentially good if the lyrics became an integral part of the video and were displayed automatically as the song went on. As it stands right now, you have to scroll them down in mid song, and if you don’t have a lackey at your beck and call to do the dirty job then it’s goodbye inspiration and concentration.

I understand that the task of synchronizing everything up is no piece of cake, if only because there are endless live versions/demos/alternate takes populating YouTube. But what about using only videos from official channels? That reduces the margin of error all the way to zero.

As I said at the beginning, I am reasonably spiked by a tool like this one. Any music nut is going to be, as the potential for tomfoolery at the expense of your heroes has no boundaries. I hope the programmer develops it further beyond this point.

Virgin Released "Fossil Fuel" As A Way Of Bidding Farewell To XTC. All The Singles Released Within Their Career Were Featured.

At roughly the same time that Geffen issued “Upsy Daisy Assortment” (a collection of hits and some noteworthy tunes from the Swindon’s outfit that was a bit whimsical to say the least) Virgin issued this 2-CD compilation. In the case of the British company, the focus was solely on singles. No track strayed from that conceit. The one exception was “Wrapped In Grey”, the song that caused the rift between XTC and Virgin way back in 1992, and which resulted in the band going on strike for the best part of the decade. Virgin decided to include it either as a way of burying the hatchet or as a final insult, a way of saying “there you go, take the goddamn song, it is now officially a ‘single’”. Which is which depends on the astute listener.

So, the album goes all the way from Andy’s much-despised “Science Friction” (from their debut EP) to Andy’s beloved “Wrapped In Grey” (from “Nonsuch“, their final album for Virgin).

The compilation is frankly phenomenal, and I don’t say that because I am a hardened fan. Over the course of the two CDs you get to see the band’s transformation from spiky new wavers (“This Is Pop”, “Are Your Receiving Me?”, “Making Plans For Nigel”) to pastoral tunecrafters (“Love On A Farmboy’s Wages”) who could still rock if they wanted to (“Wake Up”). The disc culminates with the best from both worlds, as the material from “Skylarking”, “Oranges & Lemons” and the aforementioned “Nonsuch” surfaces. This includes hits and quasi-hits like “Dear God”, “The Mayor Of Simpleton” and “The Ballad Of Peter Pumpkinhead”.

The compilation has no true rarities to speak about, although you do get the reworked “This Is Pop” along with some non-album sides like the addictive “Are You Receiving Me?” and the egregiously noncommercial  “Wait Till Your Boat Goes Down”. In some cases, though, these non-albums cuts have been added to the remastered discs. Such is the case of “Are You Receiving Me?” (found on the remastered “Go 2”) and “Life Begins At The Hop” (included on the rerelease of “Drums And Wires”).

I can honestly tell you this is one of the most consistent compilations I have ever listened to. I have written so much about the band that I am bit at loss when it comes to using new words or images to explain why they music is so hard-hitting and (above everything else) so enduring. They made a true creative statement through the years, and those who were fortunate enough to listen to it are bound to remember it forever and pass it along. And if you have never heard it, here you have a précis with the main points. And I must say that in terms of emotional extensiveness and intellectual depth, it is truly one of the richest you can find in the annals of music.

Would I recommend purchase of this compilation: Yes
Do I feel like digging deeper into their catalog after listening to it: Yes