Maggot Brain, Strange Weather, Miles Smiles
Back to the alphabet...
We're finishing up the vinyl "F's" today with two Funkadelics--Maggot Brain and One Nation Under a Groove--and one I overlooked by Marianne Faithfull.
I've listened to two versions of the Eddie Hazel guitar opus, "Maggot Brain," today. One is the famous title track from the album, where George Clinton directed Hazel, "Play like your mother died." Or Hendrix died, you might say. As anguished an expression of Post-Hendrix, deep-in-the-shit- of-Vietnam "black rock" as the Isley Brothers' live version of "Ohio." There's also a live version of the song that's included as a bonus EP on the brilliantly scatalogical One Nation Under a Groove. I know that the beats and grooves of the Funkadelic records have been used by hip hoppers, but have we as a nation truly appreciated the spirit their mad genius? Maybe that's my homework, not yours...
I forgot to note the Marianne Faithfull record--Strange Weather-- earlier in the "F's" because it was in my newly acquired vinyl to be absorbed stack. Punkinhead played it for me at work a few months back. I loved it, and when I found a nice, clean copy on vinyl I snapped it up. Released in 1987, produced by Hal Willner, it's a moving voyage through the musical soul of the then fortysomething Faithfull. You can't ask for better foggy day music. Redolent of the melancholy torchiness of Marlene Dietrich and Lotte Lenya (as no less than Terry Southern points out in his liner notes), the cigarette and whiskey-voiced Marianne sings lived in blues and caberet. Some highlights: the gospel blues "Sign of Judgement"; moving versions of Dylan's "I'll Keep It With Mine" and a revisitation of "As Tears Go By." Music for grownups who've been around the block.
And speaking of around the block(the CD block), I played what has become my favorite Miles Davis record, Miles Smiles. Here's the classic mid-sixties quintet of Miles, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter and Tony Williams at their peak. What exciting interplay between the guys! Miles may have mocked Ornette Coleman, but on this record it sounds like he's absorbed the spacial feel of Ornette's own classic quartet (if not the funky bluesiness). Since finally getting around to buying Miles Smiles six years ago, I find myself playing it almost once a week. I think it's surpassed the hallowed Kind of Blue for me. I don't have to make a choice between the two, do I?
We're finishing up the vinyl "F's" today with two Funkadelics--Maggot Brain and One Nation Under a Groove--and one I overlooked by Marianne Faithfull.
I've listened to two versions of the Eddie Hazel guitar opus, "Maggot Brain," today. One is the famous title track from the album, where George Clinton directed Hazel, "Play like your mother died." Or Hendrix died, you might say. As anguished an expression of Post-Hendrix, deep-in-the-shit- of-Vietnam "black rock" as the Isley Brothers' live version of "Ohio." There's also a live version of the song that's included as a bonus EP on the brilliantly scatalogical One Nation Under a Groove. I know that the beats and grooves of the Funkadelic records have been used by hip hoppers, but have we as a nation truly appreciated the spirit their mad genius? Maybe that's my homework, not yours...
I forgot to note the Marianne Faithfull record--Strange Weather-- earlier in the "F's" because it was in my newly acquired vinyl to be absorbed stack. Punkinhead played it for me at work a few months back. I loved it, and when I found a nice, clean copy on vinyl I snapped it up. Released in 1987, produced by Hal Willner, it's a moving voyage through the musical soul of the then fortysomething Faithfull. You can't ask for better foggy day music. Redolent of the melancholy torchiness of Marlene Dietrich and Lotte Lenya (as no less than Terry Southern points out in his liner notes), the cigarette and whiskey-voiced Marianne sings lived in blues and caberet. Some highlights: the gospel blues "Sign of Judgement"; moving versions of Dylan's "I'll Keep It With Mine" and a revisitation of "As Tears Go By." Music for grownups who've been around the block.
And speaking of around the block(the CD block), I played what has become my favorite Miles Davis record, Miles Smiles. Here's the classic mid-sixties quintet of Miles, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter and Tony Williams at their peak. What exciting interplay between the guys! Miles may have mocked Ornette Coleman, but on this record it sounds like he's absorbed the spacial feel of Ornette's own classic quartet (if not the funky bluesiness). Since finally getting around to buying Miles Smiles six years ago, I find myself playing it almost once a week. I think it's surpassed the hallowed Kind of Blue for me. I don't have to make a choice between the two, do I?
posted by ken at 2:13 PM
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