A couple of weeks ago, I posted about how I first met Luna for their entry at (coincidentally) #15 on my Best tunes of 2002 list. It was their sophomore album, “Bewitched”, with which I first fell in love with them and then I continued to follow Luna through each subsequent release from there. Their debut album, “Lunapark”, however, I didn’t actually hear until after they disbanded in 2005, and to be honest, it was after I first listened to a live version of our tune of focus today on their sole live album, the obviously-titled, “Luna live”.
I was a bit sore about their disbanding, perhaps more so because I was supposed to see them live on one of their last tours that hit Toronto but I missed it. (I’ll save that story for a future post.) I immediately began grasping at whichever of their albums to which I’d had yet to listen, starting with the aforementioned live album, which I had previously ignored because I’m not typically a fan of live records. I loved this one though on first listen, the sound is incredible and their live energy was palpably captured on the recording. One of the standout tracks for me, of course, was “Anesthesia”, which I had incredibly never heard beforehand. I tracked it down as appearing on the debut and so when I saw “Lunapark” sitting on my friend Mark’s CD racks one day, I asked him to borrow it.
Luna was still a trio when they recorded this debut. Ex-Galaxie 500 frontman Dean Wareham had just put together the group with drummer Stanley Demeski (ex of The Feelies) and bassist Justin Harwood (ex of The Chills), causing critics in the know to pull out the ‘indie supergroup’ label. The sound wasn’t super distant from Galaxie 500’s latter day work but Wareham’s two band mates definitely made their presence felt in the dream pop miasma.
On “Anesthesia” in particular, the bass is quite muscular, sinewy and organic and lots of heft, while Demeski’s drumming is impeccable, tight yet loose. I know that doesn’t sound like it makes sense but just listen to the drumming in the song and it will. And of course, there’s Wareham’s guitar work, at times dancing and shimmering, jangly finger plucking through the verses and then, he gets all rock and roll and radical after the choruses.
I’ve included the slightly shorter and cleaner original version from the album below but if you can find it, I’d also recommend having a go at the live version (from “Luna live”) as well. Both are great to get lost in for a few moments. You’re welcome.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1992 list, click here.
When The Dandy Warhols last graced these pages, it was September in 2017 and they were hitting up the number two spot on my Best tunes of 2000 list with the very, very excellent, “Bohemian like you”. I wrote in that post how I saw them live before I had properly become familiar with their music but was so enthused by their set that I purchased “Thirteen tales from urban bohemia” on CD a few years later, without first hearing a note. The rest was history, I suppose. I bought “Welcome to the monkey house” when it came out in 2003, watched the 2004 documentary “Dig!”, and went back to explore their 1990s output. It seemed to me that I had found a new favourite band – I’ve had many over the years – but then, the Dandies went through a period where their excesses were allowed to overflow their bubbling cauldron. I couldn’t get into their 2005 album, “Odditorium or warlords of mars”, at all, and ditto for its successor, 2008’s “…Earth to the Dandy Warhols…”. I moved on.
The Portland, Oregon based alternative rock quartet were relatively quiet for the next bunch of years, their only musical releases being an alternate version of “Monkey house” (called “The Dandy Warhols are sound”) that came out in 2009 and ‘best of’ compilation released by their old label just before they parted ways with them in 2010. There were murmurs of a new album in 2011 when frontman Courtney Taylor-Taylor joked about potential album titles while on tour. However, when “This machine” was finally launched in the spring of 2012, it came upon me as a surprise. Being the forgiving sort that I am, I gave it a spin and it ended up being featured on my old blog, Music Insanity, as one of my favourite releases of the month.
For this album, The Dandy Warhols opted for a simpler, ‘stripped down’ approach and for me, it felt a lot less excessive and a lot more palatable. “I am free”, for example, contrives to sneak up to some of their early singles and rival them in the ear worm category. The jumping and reverberating guitar line by Peter Holmström deserves a true guitar rock god stance, legs spread wide and axe held aloft. Brent De Boer pounds the drums and Zia McCabe holds the bass line steady and true. Taylor-Taylor, of course, fronts it all with his usual tongue in cheek attitude, his laidback, slacking delivery giving it just the right vibe. And when the horns kick in at the end, it doesn’t even feel like they’re crowding themselves into an already packed room. It feels effortless and easy.
Yeah. “I am free” is easily my favourite song on the album but it is by no means the only good track. To me, it was like a comeback of sorts, a righting of the ship, a beginning of a new course that followed the band through the string of their next bunch of albums.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 2012 list, click here.
You may recall that I featured a guest-written post on The Jam just over a month ago. My friend Andrew Rodriguez, aka the biggest Paul Weller fan that I know, delivered a thorough narrative on some of his favourites of The Jam’s tunes, their history, his thoughts on all of this, and he included some words on his experiences seeing Weller live as a solo artist in 1992 and 1994. It was Rodriguez that first played “Uh huh oh yeh” for me way back, on an evening he didn’t remember and that I could only vaguely remember. So I decided to go back to Rodriguez and ask him some questions, a sort of mini-interview via email exchange, to get his perspective and thoughts on this very excellent and breakthrough single by Paul Weller, the solo artist…
Where were you and what were you doing when you first heard “Uh huh oh yeh”?
“I can’t precisely recall. It was released on 15 August 1992, that summer I’d been away for 6 weeks – I was in the Army reserve at the time. My courses ended mid August, so I know I was home and able to listen to the radio. It was in fairly heavy rotation on CFNY 102.1 in Toronto when it came out. In those days, I used to keep a blank tape at the ready to record good stuff I heard on the radio. Plus side is I was able to record bits of it – negative side is it wasn’t ’til the album came out that I heard the whole song.”
What were your initial thoughts of it?
“Initially, I was blown away. It’s rare that the instant you hear a song, you know it know it will be part of your personal soundtrack. I liked the ‘comeback’ feel. Lyrically, like much of his material – PW was heavily introspective, but not in some whiney BS way. ‘The very roots upon which I stand’. Vocally soulful and powerful. Musically tight, jazz and soul elements combined with raw emotion, and tempered with a feeling of maturity and growth. It was what I needed to hear, when I needed to hear it. There wasn’t much going on at that time musically. And above all, it was incredible for me to hear something from him that was contemporary. All his previous material I had heard basically after the fact.“
What are your thoughts about it now? Has your perception of it changed over the years?
“That question is double-plus good! My thoughts haven’t really changed, I think the song has stood well against the test of time, both stylistically and production-wise. It is still part of my personal soundtrack. I’ve no idea how it would be received if it were to be released today – but I don’t think that it would be viewed negatively. The musicianship (ahem! Steve White’s drumming) is unimpeachable. My perception, well that’s a bit more difficult to determine. I still feel a RUSH when I hear it. My perception is likely different, I’m older now, my body chemistry has changed and my circumstances are different. But, again the positive and solidly introspective aspects of the song still move and ground me – its simply that there is more experience to be grounded by now, than there was for me in 1992. Also, this song now has to be viewed as BOTH the start of a new chapter in PW’s musical life (which at the time coincided with a new chapter in my life); and it has to be viewed against his large body of subsequent work. Viewed as a start, my perception hasn’t changed. Viewed as part of a larger body of solo work, it remains my favourite – if I had to pick one.”
You have referred to this as a “comeback” and “new chapter” for Weller. How is this album and this song in particular different from The Jam or Style Council?
“In 1989, The Style Council folded – PW also got divorced from DC Lee, a co-member of TSC. At that point, given a combination of factors: his personal and professional situations, and the overall snakelike nature of british music press/culture, he was effectively dismissed as being done. He was single, had no band and no job. If he had had a dog, his dog likely would’ve died too. By 1991, he had assembled a semblance of musicians to form The Paul Weller Movement (which included TSC drummer Steve White – brother of a future Oasis drummer). They started touring, playing a mix of Style Council and Jam songs. Energised by touring, PW gradually introduced new material, which was popular both with fans and critics; popular enough that he signed a new record deal – and that material made the bulk of the first proper solo release. Uh Huh Oh Yeh was one of the later songs to be recorded. I don’t know if the Movement ever played it live. But it was very much a comeback.
I said “new chapter” because that is what it was. Both the Jam and the Style Council had been formalised and established bands. Both bands were talented and competent. In the case of the Jam, Weller basically dissolved them when he realised that they weren’t keen on the direction that he wanted to go. In the case of The Style Council – they were highly creative and very much all over the place – the problem they encountered was that some of their material wasn’t considered to be commercially viable (in some cases rightfully so). SO by going solo the touring and studio personnel changed over time, and included many people of note, members of Mother Earth, and Ocean Colour Scene come to mind. The first show I saw him play, it was basically Mother Earth backing him. So very much a new chapter.
Now if you listen to the full solo album (the original – not special editions), you will note a few things. Uh Huh Oh Yeh is a fantastic opener, but it doesn’t really represent the overall sound of the album. Feel, yes. The album can be easily (and has) described as “Acid Jazz”. UHOY is the most uptempo of the songs, only Into Tomorrow comes close in that regard. But the album is seamless. It is very much one that needs to be listened to from beginning to end. In between songs are intros and outtros, at one point even the sound of a needle crackling and being lifted off a record. More so than any Jam or TSC album it is a very complete package. His influences at the time hadn’t changed much, it was simply that the application had tightened up and focused. It is a smooth and groovy album, moreso than anything the Jam put out, and not as choppy, date-able or manic as anything late Style Council put out.
Uh Huh Oh Yeh, and the album for which it was a single, basically set a mood that was grounded. Just retrospective enough to be credible without being a shameless ripoff or paean to some vague, hollow past. It set a mood that was perfectly suited both for the period, and the future.”
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1992 list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 