CD Update #1 -- 2002 So Far (Part 2 of 2)

Last time, we went over the CDs I picked up during my February trip out to LA and my visit to the fabulous Amoeba Music. This time, we'll examine my patronage of a store much nearer and dearer to my heart: Park Avenue CDs. I swear, if this shop ever closed up I would seriously consider moving away. I don't ask much from the town I live in, but there are few minimum requirements -- nice environment, trees and parks, a good variety of cultural events, at least a couple of bands that don't suck, at least one Democrat with power, an alternative weekly paper, a Sebben-Lebben within walking distance that refills Super Big Gulps for cheap, an Irish bar, an art-house theatre, an interesting downtown, an independent CD store and a decent college radio station. Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, we did the convoluted-intro bit last time, so if you missed it, go back and have a quick read, then rejoin our detailed analysis already in progress:

1. Anne Sofie Von Otter Meets Elvis Costello - For the Stars
One of EC's more "difficult" records. By that I mean that "true" EC fans aren't supposed to like this "experiment," any more than we were meant to like The Juliet Letters or Painted From Memory. The problem is that I do consider myself a true Elvis Costello fan, mainly because I have liked almost everything he's put out since 1977. That's something one can say about only a very few artists, and almost none with the sheer volume of output EC manages. For more than a decade, you could count on the man to deliver at least one album a year! In 25 years, he has put out 24 albums (not counting "Greatest Hits" compilations)! Contrast that with today's layabout superstars, or serious offenders like Steely "What Decade is it Again?" Dan or Steve "One Album Per Generation" Miller.

For the Stars just barely counts as an EC record, as he only shows up (vocally) on occasion. It's really all about Anne Sophie Von Otter and her amazing phrasing and crystal-clear voice. Her classical training does get in the way a lot (for people with ears tuned to rock vocals, at least), and the material chosen is uneven -- she shines on Costello-penned tracks in exactly the way Wendy James didn't, and she does great justice to Paul McCartney and Tom Waits songs ... but her Beatles and Beach Boys covers just lie flat. The most surprising track on here is a cover of Abba's "Like An Angel Passing Through My Room" (completely with Benny Andersson accompanying!).

I could be cynical and say that EC's aim was to see what his songs might sound like if sung by a real singer, but maybe he's just really in love with her voice. Despite EC's tremendous talent as a record producer, this album would have benefitted greatly from someone with more talent in arranging -- there is not enough variety in the orchestrations or her voice on these songs, so much so that it's absolutely jolting to the listener when EC finally pipes up halfway through track six.

Ultimately, this record is skippable for the EC fan, even though I personally liked it -- it's just "okay," however, and that's not good enough given the high bar Costello has set and his fans expect. Fans of lovely art-rock or crossover experiments shouldn't miss it. People who liked the Burt Bacharach collaboration Painted From Memory will probably find this equally good.

2. Nick Drake - Five Leaves Left
Argh, an embarassing story this. One night we're watching TV when Heather spies a Volkswagen ad coming on, a familiar one -- the story of a group of friends headed to a party under a beautiful moonlit night. They arrive, see that the party is full of drunken louts and decide to keep on driving in the moonlight, enjoying each other's company and the incredible soundtrack to the commercial in this great car of theirs. We happen to have the TV hooked up to the stereo that particular time, so the soundtrack -- as if you haven't guessed by now, "Pink Moon" -- is really clear and lovely. Heather asks me who the hell that is, and I absentmindedly reply "oh, that's some English folk singer, Nick Drake. He's been dead for ages, actually" and don't give it much more thought.

Weeks later, as the commercial gets drilled into everyone's heads (it's really a fabulous commercial, to be fair to VW), the tragic story of Nick Drake blossoms into an all-out phenomenon. Drake was worshipped by a small cult of mates at my boarding school in England, but was obscure even in his heyday, and completely unknown outside parts of England. I hadn't given him a second thought since the days when he was still alive -- lovely folk tunes, shame he died -- but now I was constantly being asked about him by people Heather was forcing to listen to Drake every chance she could, hailing him as a genius (which, of course, made me look good since I'd heard of him before everyone else). She had immediately picked up the sampler Way to Blue, but finally we are now getting around to obtaining the best releases of his albums proper, starting with his first (of four).

If you enjoyed "Pink Moon," you're sure to like most everything Drake recorded, it's pretty much all airy-fairy folk rock (though home recordings reveal him as a deeply closeted blues fan). His distinctive voice and the usually-superb arrangements of the day add up to a serene, tranquil experience -- odd for an artist with so much emotional turmoil that he almost never performed live, and his death is widely considered a suicide.

3. Duran Duran - Essential
EMI decides to "Capitol"-ise (get it?) on Duran's neverending comeback with this 1998 2CD release of some fairly rare b-sides and remixes. As several of my friends are fanatical Duranies, I've never been hurting for any obscuria from this group, but it was lovely to get it all in one nice CD package with 14 pages of new liner notes by Nick Rhodes. I haven't read the liner notes because I haven't yet opened the package. Sounds weird, but this is actually a common practice among my circle of music lovers -- we buy so many things we occasionally go years before actually getting round to playing/enjoying them! I really should break the seal on this one, though -- apparently there's a bonus extended mix of "New Moon on Monday" which I can unlock only by using the Enhanced CD to visit duranduran.com (oooh!).

4. Harold Budd - The Room
Harold Budd makes lonely-sounding, haunting ambient piano-based soundscapes. He first came to my attention when his collaboration with Brian Eno, Ambient 2: The Plateaux of Mirror, had the most astounding effects on the songbirds outside my window. Since then, when I see a Harold Budd CD, I buy it. They are all more or less the same, unless he's working with a group, but they're all strangely calming and relaxing. Load three of them in your CD player, hit "random" and set the volume as low as you can and still hear anything. Put his record in your Walkman, then go visit a desolate place like the Nevada Salt Flats or the Scottish Moors or the Moon. One of the founding fathers of New Age (but buy his stuff anyway).

5. The Beautiful South - The River/Just Checkin' (CD2)
Nobody does cynical white-boy Northern English Soul better than The Beautiful South. I'm pleased to say I think I have most everything they've put out, but I'm missing CD1 of this two-CD single release. An obscene ploy to get more CD sales that continues to be employed in England (and, to the best of my knowledge, nowhere else), the other "The River/Just Checkin'" has similar but slightly different content -- a different "third track" and the album mix of JC. At import-single prices, collecting this band can get quite expensive. Luckily, it's mostly great stuff. I haven't yet obtained the mega-rare 20-track, 2-CD version of the album this is from, Painting It Red, but from what I've heard of it it's not their best work.

This particular single is interesting for the fact that track 2 is remixed by Fatboy Slim (former bandmate Norman Cook) himself, and that track 3 is called "Valentine's Day Wank." Gotta love that.

6. Belle & Sebastian - I'm Waking Up to Us EP
Point me towards a Scottish pop band, and I'm likely to buy their stuff sound unheard. Among my plaid pleasures are the Popinjays, Jesse Rae (give yourself 100 bonus points if you have any idea who I'm talking about there), Annie Lennox, Midge Ure, the Trash Can Sinatras and this bunch of folk-rock kilt-wearers. It's hard to imagine a more 60s-influenced band than this one, as they effortlessly combine killer pop riffs with thick-glasses-got-beat-up-a-lot vocals to produce boatloads of really memorable songs with cunning lyrics. The cult around this band rivals the suicide squads of Morrissey for sheer fanatical devotion. Normal people might find the singer(s) annoyingly fey at first, but their songs will not leave your head. Of late they seem to be struggling, but they can still knock out the killer tunes more often than not.

7. Human League - Secrets
"A return to form" is one of the most overused rock cliches, but I'm going to use it here because it fits like a spiked glove. From the first notes of Secrets, fans intake their breath sharply hoping for a revisitation to the heady days of Dare or -- can we even hope? -- Travelogue. At times, this record is downright derivative of those works, and the band make a terrific stab at recapturing their glory days, but without the brilliance of Heaven 17 wunderkinds and founding HL members Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh, the best they can manage here is "really quite good." An interesting balance of instrumental and vocal tracks add up to a very enjoyable record that doesn't quite make it, but at least they didn't try to do Dare II: Electronic Boogaloo!

8. Geoff(rey) Downes/The New Dance Orchestra - Vox Humana
Being the only person outside Geoff Downs' immediate family who bought and enjoyed The Light Program, I was of course obligated to seek out -- for over a decade -- the follow-up album, which, as it turns out, was released almost a decade after the first one.

For those who don't know, Geoff Downes was the other guy in the Buggles. No, not Trevor Horn, the other guy! He was also a member of Yes, so I suppose there must be a handful of GD fans out there. Somewhere. It's a lonely obsession, let me tell you.
Anyway, Geoff never gave up on the power of his trusty bank of 80s synthesizers, and The Light Program is a great if ... well, light ... collection of extremely-cleverly-sequenced musical pieces. A truly digital work way ahead of its time, though today it sounds so dated it could easily be used as "high tech" hold music.

Apparently Geoff has spent the intervening years discovering time travel, for not only does he ignore the enormous gap and lack of public attention to his releases and consistently refer to them as one unifed work, but his 1995 Vox Humana will take you right back to 1986 in terms of both sound and vocals. This album bears little resemblance to the first one, except for Downes' unrelenting reliance on crap synths and drum machines. Various awful people sing on this album, and Geoff throws in a helping of Buggles and Yes covers (is "covers" the proper term here? He did help write all these songs ...).

In short, I'm glad my quest is at an end ... but it's a little like discovering, after years of struggle, that the Holy Grail was really a urine cup. This record is bad, but I'm glad I have it. Sort of.

Update! It turns out Geoff has a third album out! Ayiiiieeee! Kill me now!