This is almost unbearably sad.
Amy Winehouse released her debut album when she was just 19, singing about her life where the men that she craved love from were all weak, manipulative or needy. She sounds tired, cynical and world weary, and in retrospect it’s easy to see the path that she was already heading down. Nobody should be singing lines like “I’ve forgotten all of young love’s joy” when they’re not even in their twenties.
Rest in peace Amy.
When young Ali was growing up in a small village in a remote region of Mali he earned the nickname Farka, which means donkey, because of his stubbornness. He wasn’t allowed to play music for cultural reasons, but he went ahead and made himself an improvised one string guitar from a tin can and a bit of string anyway. He quickly picked up the distinctive sound of the region and earned a reputation as a guitarist of note, learning how to sing in seven different languages too.
Some time in the 60s he heard the music of John Lee Hooker for the first time and wondered how this American musician was playing tunes that sounded like the ones he’d grown up with. He quickly realised that the blues must have been an evolution of the much older traditions that he knew. The instruments and languages may have changed, but the feelings were still the same.
I remember hearing this music on the radio sometime in the 80s on a late night show and was charmed by it, even if I couldn’t understand the words. The American musician Ry Cooder was similarly enchanted and tracked down Touré to make an album with him, bringing the best of both worlds together.
Apparently Touré wasn’t happy with his time in America, calling it a ‘spiritual car park’, and some of that sadness and longing for home can be felt here. It’s still a good place to start listening though and will hopefully lead on to people listening to other albums from this truly remarkable musician.
When I was a child Timbuktu was always a mythical place, as far away from home as it’s possible to be. Perhaps we’ve always had it wrong, and it’s Timbuktu that’s home and we are the ones who are lost?
You know when you go to a medium sized festival and there’s the second stage for the b-list bands? Well, the Auteurs would be a solid act for some time late on Saturday afternoon as you are getting ready to meet your friends by the main stage to see the headliners. Musically they are 90s left field indie Britpop, with slightly (but not too) quirky vocals and the occasional burst of enthusiastic guitar work. Perfectly fine but nothing to write home about.
I only listened to the first 13 songs. For me they all sounded the same, so I did without the remaining 30.
This is the transitional album where Brian Eno came on board as a producer, turning Talking Heads from an arty NYC proto punk band into something that you could dance to. I haven’t listened to this album as much as some of the others - not because it’s not good, but because the live versions of some of these songs on Stop Making Sense (notably their cover of Al Green’s Take Me to the River) are even better than the ones here.
This was the first Stones album to be entirely written by Jagger and Richards, and, after a promising opening track with Paint It Black it quickly becomes problematic, to say the least. The level of misogyny here is quite jaw dropping, from calling women ‘Stupid Girls’ to wishing they were ‘Under My Thumb’ as revenge for asking to be treated as equals. On side two they then wonder why they are having a hard time living on their own. You do the math, Mick.
This album came out at exactly the wrong time. It’s psychedelic beats and sitar breaks were ten years too late, the indie rock energy and quirky production were ten years too early and the actual release date fell in the middle of a printers strike so the album didn’t get reviewed in Melody Maker and NME. This is a shame, because there’s a lot to enjoy here, with the highlight being the full on rock freak out of Insanely Jealous of You.
This album is a gem. It's perhaps one of the most influencial indus albums, and it's well diserve. It has an insane combination of agressive rhythms, layers of noise, melodies and experimentation. I love the very dense and cold sound of the record. Not my favourite NIN, but a 5 nonetheless!
From his breakthrough record yesterday to his final album, recorded just before his death in 2006 and released posthumously. This is an album full of strangeness and charm, with traditional instruments like the ngoni and calabash alongside guitars and harmonicas and vocals in a mix of languages. You don’t need to understand the words to feel the powerful emotions running through them.
Touré said that he thought this was his best album and who are we to argue? I also read today that in 2004 he became mayor of his home town of Niafunké and spent his own money earned from his music improving the roads, building generators, and installing irrigation and sewage systems. I can’t think of a better legacy to aspire to.
There comes a time in the life of every rock band when someone discovers a synth in the corner of the studio and wonders what happens when they start randomly twiddling the knobs. In Van Halen’s case this gave us the worldwide monster hit Jump but it’s clear on this album where the rest of the band pushed back for more traditional rock songs about women’s legs and hot teachers. It’s no surprise that they broke up with ‘musical differences’ a year later.
