1001 Albums Summary

Was never into J&MC despite their music having a lot of qualities I like (heavy guitar, heavy distortion, decent pace on most songs). The somnambulant singing weighs them down, as does their album production, which often sounds like the music was being played from the next room over. Shadowlands ditches the distortion and the production is a much better affair, but the songs are snoozers. The group had a problem with violent fuckwits showing up to their gigs (prompted in part by their own shitty behavior), which perhaps accounts for the muted approach here. Anyway, not much to say otherwise. Pretty dreary!

If you know anything about this album, you know the story of it. Marvin Gaye was going through a divorce with his wife, Anna Gordy. The arrangement was that Gordy would receive half of the advance and the proceeds from Gaye's next album. He initially was going record a stinker, but found that the best way to work through what he was going through was to bare his soul and make the album all about his divorce and what he was going through. But that isn't what he did. Instead, he just made an album blaming his wife for divorcing him, blaming the judge for awarding her alimony and child support, blaming Anna for calling the cops on him (for not paying alimony and child support), and blaming her for suing him for what she was awarded. Marvin more than once mentions the "obey" portion of the vows, and chastises his ex-wife for not adhering to them. I don't think those were the only vows that were said his ceremony, but I guess he forgot his own. I don't know the entire history behind their troubled marriage and divorce, but well documented were Marvin's drug problems, infidelities, and terrible management of his own finances in that he had to keep touring in order to avoid poverty, eventually exiling himself to Europe because he owed so much in back taxes that he was afraid he was going to be thrown in prison. I'm just saying, it's not surprising that someone wouldn't want to stay married to him. There are occasional moments of self reflection on the album in "Anger" and "Time To Get It Together," but they don't last, and he's back to being vicious on "Is That Enough" and "You Can Leave, But It's Going To Cost You." The last full song on the album, "Falling In Love Again" is an (admittedly, very good) song about his relationship with his new squeeze, Janis Hunter, who he had two children with during his separation from Gordy. Do you want to know how that turned out? They separated in 1979, the year after this album was released. Afterwards, Gaye threatened her with a knife and arranged for their four-year old son to be kidnapped. They divorced in 1982. True love! It's easy to say that Gaye was a horrible person. What he was, was a troubled man from an abusive home who fell into a drug addiction that affected his personal life greatly, to say nothing of being a famous black man in a world that loves to tear down famous black men. That's neither here nor there when it comes to rating this album, which is a loose, meandering collection of stream-of-consciousness R&B and funk. Musically, it's neither terrible nor great, and curiously removed of any emotional emphasis for an album that's so emotionally pointed. Angry Marvin, sad Marvin, happy Marvin, he sings everything pretty much the same. Anna and Marvin eventually became amicable towards each other and remained friendly for the rest of his life. If she can forgive him, I guess we can as well, but that doesn't mean we need to celebrate the man's low points. This album has undergone a positive critical reappraisal that it doesn't deserve. It isn't an honest album, and Marvin did not bare his soul. He aired his grievances and attempted to embarrass his ex. My favorite song on the album, "A Funky Space Reincarnation," near as I can tell has nothing to do with Anna or his divorce, but meeting a chick some time between 2073 and 2093 for space sex and smoking something from Venus that is definitely not dope! Light, goofy, fun song. If the whole album was like this, I would have liked it a lot more.

It's 1956 and big band is dead, daddy-o. All the hep cats are listening to dudes like Charles Mingus and Sonny Rollins and Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker (no wait, he died the previous year). That young man Miles Davis was cookin', relaxin', workin' and steamin' his way into the public consciousness. Quartets and quintets are where it's at, Jack. Paying 16 musicians is for squares. Okay, I'm going to stop talking like this. Ellington was struggling when 1956 came around. Bebop, modal, cool jazz, latin jazz, etc. etc. had usurped the big bands of the 1930s and 40s. His band was surviving on European tours and royalties from his previous work. At the time of the Newport Jazz Festival, he didn't even have a record deal. The concert at Newport was a major success, reinvigorating interest in Duke's music for the rest of his life. He signed with Columbia and the ensuing LP (which was mostly a studio recreation of the concert because some of the live audio was missing) was a smash hit. My mom owned it. Some time between 1956 and 1999, some other live tapes were found and the concert was painstakingly put together in all it's glory on a two-CD set. Ellington himself passed before I was even formed into molecules, but I've seen the Duke Ellington Orchestra live several times, dragged people to listen to it who had no interest in jazz and nobody could tell me they didn't have a good time. It's bouncy, it's fun, it gets into your bones. Unless your soul is made from concrete, you can't help but enjoy yourself. Having said that, it's never tempted me to riot and demand the band never leave the stage, and even listening to the concert in retrospect, it's hard to say what provoked the Rhode Island crowd into such a frenzy (there are chapters of the reissue titled "Announcements, Pandemonium" and "Riot Prevention" which... wow! This is definitely a hypothetical Time Machine stop.) Everything comes to a head on Paul Gonsalves's 27-chorus solo (lasting almost six and a half minutes) which is pretty amazing for such a long solo in that it never gets repetitive and also that he didn't pass out, but what he's playing is less interesting than the chaos that you hear rising up around it. Something is clearly happening. Gonsalves's bandmates are hooting and hollering, and you can hear the crowd (who supposedly got up out of their wooden lawn chairs and started dancing in the aisles) steadily join them. The end of the solo isn't greeted by raucous applause--people are *screaming*. And that energy is maintained throughout the rest of the concert, with Duke having to try to calm the crowd down multiple times through many encores and only playing a minute-long "Mood Indigo" as the closer (with the crowd still audibly angry the concert will soon be over) with the band probably desperate to get off stage at that point. If I were to grade this album strictly on musical quality, I'd give it four stars. Duke's compositions are earworms and the band is cracking. But the recording of the concert and the audience's reaction is an experience well worth hearing at least once in your life, and that earns the extra star right there.

Oh hell yeah! I knew of The Gun Club but had never heard any of their music before nor did I realize they were the progenitors of psychobilly/cowpunk, etc. This is great! Short, punchy, catchy songs that somehow combine punk with shuffle beats and slide guitar. I think the songs are better at the sub-three minute time with their longer songs wearing themselves out a bit, but I think that's pretty typical for punk in my estimation. A bit more variety would have escalated this into five-star territory, but even as is, it's a good time.

A critical darling and evidence that music reviewers are easy to impress if you appeal to their sense of self-importance. One review said "the sound of a band taking a mandate to be a meaningful rock band seriously" as in they haven't screwed up their aspirational *seriousness* by sounding like they're having any fun. Everything about this is mid. Midtempo, middle-register singing, middling temperament. Nothing exemplifying happiness or joy or anything to get the blood going, the kind of music you'd go to watch live with your hands in your pockets, maybe silently bobbing side to side to signify that you were enjoying yourself. (I'm being snotty here; I've actually seen The National live and it was fine, they were having lots of fun up on stage; but none of that enthusiasm really translated to this album.) There are a few moments where the instruments rock out a bit and if I'm honest, the drums sound pretty fun on some of these songs, but overall this is like the album version dry Oscar bait.