"Sir Perceval's not around is he...?"

JOHN CALE : Comes Alive / Caribbean Sunset (1984)

John Cale's back catalogue has been particularly ill-served by his old record companies generally with only a couple of keynote LPs receiving the mandatory "expanded / remastered" treatment, but the protracted unavailability of terrific early 80s LPs like these two 1984 obscurities, in addition to Honi Soit or Music For A New Society (both of which I covered elsewhere), makes little sense to me. Critically derided at the time (& D.O.A. commercially), I'm gradually coming 'round to the idea that Cale's post-punk wilderness years actually might have produced some of his most interesting music - it's certainly some of his weirdest...

Caribbean Sunset's oddly benign cover portrait belies it's gleefully brutal contents. Both title & sleeve suggest this might be an inanely poppy, easy listening-type affair. Fortunately for us, it most certainly is not. Released, as per Music For A New Society, on New York's painfully hip Ze label, it was savaged critically & has regularly been written-off as Cale's worst LP ever since (by people who haven't actually heard it I imagine). Hindsight is, of course, a marvellous leveller. In 1984, it no doubt appeared that Cale was opportunistically jumping onto the "punk" bandwagon way too late to expect anything other than derision, but 25 years later the messy, off-the-cuff manner of recording (predominantly single takes - you can hear him shouting out incoming chord changes to the band on a couple of tracks!) & erratic rehearsal room sonics sound excitingly raw. The sessions' spontaneous nature might partially be attributed to Eno, who apparently contributes to the general sense of chaos. Caribbean Sunset was pencilled in for a CD release in 2001, complete with outtakes, but was mysteriously pulled at the last minute (can anybody shed any light on this?). Incidentally, Ze was founded by Michael Zilkha (heir to the Mothercare fortune) & Michael Estaben (stepson of Lord Lever) who were introduced to one another in 1977 by... John Cale.

Cale's final Ze release, Comes Alive was again recorded with the Caribbean Sunset line-up as back-up (sans Eno). At first glance it looks like one of those tedious "Why bother?"-type contractual obligation jobs: two specially recorded studio tracks (one of which, the opening comedic gambit "Ooh La La", might just be his Worst Song Ever!) bookending the highlights of a February 1984 live set from London's Lyceum. Ignoring the still fresh Caribbean Sunset, Cale reprises a handful of songs from 1979's well-received Sabotage alongside strikingly melodic re-interpretations of a couple of Music For A New Society tracks, an almost baroque "Waiting For The Man", & possibly his finest "Heartbreak Hotel" ever (& there are plenty to choose from). Stately & sinister, it dispenses with the usual hamfisted Hammer horror theatrics for something far more unsettling, a darkness that lingers long after the song is over. Minor point of interest: the British & American versions of the L.P. contain radically different mixes of the studio tracks (I've no idea which version this upload is I'm afraid). Last time I checked You Tube was a heap of live footage from this era (try "John Cale 1984"), you might want to give it a look...

Comes / Sunset

With regards to Don't Ask Me I Don't Know & Saltyka respectively.

Exemplary Cale site here btw. And you can follow his tweets here if you so wish (am I the only person to find this latter development rather bizarre?).

SCOTT WALKER : Sings Songs From His T.V. Series (1969) / The Moviegoer (1972)

A Festive treat for Gabardine-wrapped, Carnaby Street miserablists everywhere - two of Scott's rarest albums, neither of which you'll find on Amazon anytime soon...

Scott Walker Sings Songs From His T.V. Series has yet to be reissued on CD. Released by Philips 1969 between his classic third & fourth solo albums it's not the neglected masterpiece one might naturally expect, despite it's admirable vintage. It's a needless, compromised throwback to his Walker Brothers' years, a syrupy selection of slushy, pompously-arranged standards that sound like they were picked for him by over-cautious producers keen to placate the Septuagenarian pipe-&-slippers audience that had been so roundly alienated by all that smutty Brel rubbish (ahem). Drawing on songwriters as prominent as Charles Azanavour, Bacarach & David, Jerry Herman, Kurt Weill, Rodgers & Hammerstein (but significantly not Brel himself) it remains an uncomortable, often cringeworthy listen & it's not difficult to see why Scott might have attempted to block any kind of re-release (a few songs have slipped out on on Mercury's 2005 Classics & Collectables compilation however). Tragically, the entire T.V. series (plus a couple of standalone specials) this collection was cherrypicked from has been wiped by the ever-dependable BBC so there's zero possibility of ever viewing these songs' solitary saving grace, the fantastic period footage. Idiots.

Succeeding 'Til The Band Comes In, 1972's The Moviegoer was briefly reissued in the immediate wake of Fontana's early 90s reissue programme but was quickly withdrawn at Scott's behest (again, a handful of tracks appear on Classics & Collectables). I guess it's understandable that he might not want to be reminded of this era, creatively & personally he was in terrible shape, prepared to sing anything Philips put in front of him providing the fee was ample & the scotch was flowing. Contrary to popular opinion, it's a surprisingly lovely listen in places - Scott is on magnificent form (his vocal technique had definitely matured since his Walkers' heyday), Johnny Franz's production is huskily melancholy rather than garishly overblown, & the selection of cinematic theme songs is far from repellent (only the pungent country Stilton of "All His Children" is likely to set one's teeth on edge - dig that atrocious cornball phrasing, it's the one time he lets his stoic professionalism slip to sound as royally pissed off as the indignant sleeve pic implies). Listening to it as I type, at 2am with the lights dimmed & a large glass of wine at hand, it's beginning to sound very seductive indeed. It's no Scott 4 but I still tentatively recommend it...

T.V. / Movie

Links sourced from the now defunct NoMusik blog (thanks).

SERGE GAINSBOURG : Les Annees Psychedeliques 1966-1971

Seems like this one went in & out of print in a flash. It's a strictly limited edition double vinyl set of Portugese origin (c/o cool as fuck boutique label, Le Smoke Disques) that cherrypicks the seriously groovy Gaelic freakfunk of the mighty Serge's druggy late 60s heydey (his most creative period as far as I'm concerned, though I don't pretend to be an authority). A suave 'n' sultry combo of timeless old favourites, super-scarce b-sides, quality unreleased session tracks & a handful of "bonus beat" workouts, it's all been faithfully remastered & sounds fantastique. Highlights include excerpts from the Canabis, Mr Freedom, Manon 70 & La Pacha soundtracks, with tons of driving proto-Can rhythms & acid-head orchestrations c/o Michel Colombier & Jean-Claude Vannier (L'Enfant Assassin Des Mouches) - the original catalogue # (LSD-005) is simply the icing on the cake! Clued-in 6Ts shufflers will get a fair bit of mileage out of "Psychotenie" & "No No Yes Yes"'s infectious boogaloo no doubt, whilst fans of Air (who've regularly paid homage to Serge in the past & recorded this LP with his daughter) will find "Danger" & "L'Alonette" of particular interest. I've still not decided whether "Requiem Pour Un Cont" is my favourite song ever or not (yes, another "favourite song ever"!) but I definitely won't be disappointed if it's playing in the crematorium when my coffin's gliding solemnly towards the furnace...






More Serge here. Merci to the elusive "Anna Karina" for the link.

Psychedelique

PiL : Bad Baby 22/4/80 Gildersleaves NYC

I've had a bootleg of this performance for a while (ta, Doomette) but didn't realise somebody had actually filmed it as well. Magnificent stuff, the classic PiL line-up at it's unassailable peak - Lydon looks like he's actually enjoying himself, Keith is still awake & Wobble is 100% amazing. Seriously, I could watch this all day... (N.B. Hang around for 5:45, it's priceless!)

BECK'S RECORD CLUB : The Songs Of Leonard Cohen

I only realised the other day that Beck has yet to release a greatest hits comp. - admirable restraint on his part considering the amount of kosher "hits" he's actually scored (think about it) & the desperate straits the record biz is in these days. He's got hours of other uncollated bits 'n' pieces floating about out there too - soundtrack contributions, tribute LPs, off-the-cuff cassette nonsense, etc - I feel a boxset comin' on! I'm rather impressed that he evidently doesn't deem such a predictably commercial measure necessary (so far anyway), though I'm sure Geffen/XL are gaggin' for one?

Moving on, here's the complete second volume of his ongoing, exemplary Record Club project - "an informal meeting of various musicians to record an album in a day" (i.e. they're winging it). This time 'round it's Leonard Cohen's 1967 debut, covered in it's entirety with help from Devendra Banhart, MGMT (!!), Wolfmother (!! x 1,000,000) & various other semi-vacant faux-entities I don't profess to have even a fleeting interest in. The music's good though. Most likely to upset the Cohen faithful are the eye-opening adaptions of "Master Song" (which might've crawled out of Midnight Vultures' neon rubble) & "Teachers" (sounding like it's being simultaneously hijacked by Wavves & Os Mutantes). "Stranger Song", possibily my personal Cohen fav, could be The Go!Team slowly spaghetti-ing backwards into a black hole (for better or worse). It's a faithful, often lovely, recitation of the album overall, though not quite as distinguished as the series' inaugeral entry - too many non-Beck vocals this time 'round & the "party" chit-chat occasionally rankles. As does the sound of Devenda Banhart picking weevils out of his lavish beard...

No sign of this, or the previous Velvet Underground installment, for sale online yet - for the time being at least it'd appear that he's doing this purely for the fun of it, obviously fully aware that the results will ultimately end up being railroaded by crummy blogs like this 'un. The third installment is already well underway & finds Hansen Esq. contemplating Skip Spence's Oar with Wilco (inc. Jeff Tweedy's son!), Jamie Liddell & Feist (amongst others) in tow - Beck previously ran through Spence's "Halo Of Gold" on the More Oar tribute LP a few years back of course (you can find it on the "Tropicalia" single too). Unlike the Banana & Cohen albums, Oar has never been a particular favourite of mine, I've always found it's unavoidably voyeuristic exploration/exploitation of Spence's mental issues a little too explicit tbh, so it'll be interesting to see if these covers revise my opinion at all.

Conceivably, Record Club #4 could be Sonic Youth's E.V.O.L. (according to Rolling Stone anyway), & if his cover of "Green Light" for Record Store Day earlier this year is anything to go by it'll be more than merely "okay"(pay no mind to Sonic Youth's contribution though, it's abysmal). While we're waiting for #4 (& the imminent Charlotte Gainsbourg LP that he's produced & co-written), you could do worse than cast a palsied eye over this spiffing Beck blog, the alternate (& superior) Modern Guilt sleeve designs are worth a few mins of anybody's time for starters...

LEN

FAT FUN

(Errr... more of this kind of thing please, You Tube!)