This is odd. Two-thirds of the sites that i read in the morning, completely unrelated to each other in subject and geographic area, all seem to have their servers down.
Not much time today, but after listening to pieces of Big Star’s Third: Sister Lovers and Chris Bell’s I Am the Cosmos, I’m wondering how much more American power pop that I’m missing out on. Well, a lot, i know… and none of them are going to have the fiery epic tragedy of Big Star (Or Badfinger, but they are not American anyway.) Damien mentioned that he and Boone have been listening to stuff like the Plimsouls, the Shoes, Dwight Twilley, and the Nerves, but I’ve never heard any of this stuff consciously. It’s hard to tell hether it’s worth the effort. I didn’t even know what i was getting myself in for when I picked up Third: Sister Lovers in a used cd bin. It was one of those bands that I heard a lot about, but for some reason, Damien owned nothing by them, so they remained an enigma, Mentioning that the Posies worked with Alex Chilton in the reunion would only be a turnoff to me. The copy that I have looks as if someone shot it with an air rifle. The only songs that i was able to get into on that first listen were “Jesus Christ” as it sounded extremely cynical, and “Nighttime” as it seemed the saddest without turning into a bilious monster in production, without the cowbells, offkey guitar, funky (in a bad way) pedal effects, and utterly broken vocals. I’d been listening to challenging stuff for years, but somehow, Third: Sister Lovers was harder to get into, as i was expecting something easily accessable, something disposable. It makes perfect sense now. It’s trying to get back into myself, where i was when i first listened to the album, that’s turning out to be rather hard. Anyway, I fear getting into the rest of American power-pop, as it doesn’t have the mythic shadow of Big Star, the immediacy of Cheap Trick, or the easy cultism of the Flamin’ Groovies. I hate being disappointed.
And since Pitchfork seems to be one of th only sites that I regualrly read that is working and updated, it might as well be mentioned that the Destroyer “Streethawk” record. Whaddya mean, no hooks? that’s supposed to be good thing? Because it’s done on purpose? I admit that I’m intrigued, but that first half of the review did indeed turn me off.It might be far too clever for my tastes, to slow to grow on me. A much lower rating is given to the Clientele’s Suburban Light, but like every other mention of it, the review mentions how it evokes the sound of the ’60s. Sometimes i get even more curious by that than by whether there’s good hooks on a record, because it intrigues me to know what the hell people think the ’60s sound like. Too many people said that about every single Elephant 6 project, and look how silly that sounds in retrospect. Besides, it’s a sad, reflective album according to this guy, and i like my sad, reflective albums to be as comfortable as an old blanket, yet megalithic in scope. I’m an obsessive review reader who always gets confused by others’ words and feelings. Damn it. Music itself does that to me.
Since i almost feel like I’m stretching for material, even though I’ve been trying to remember to mention this for days, I may as well mention how Damien told me not long ago that Motley Crue started as a Mott the Hoople cover band, and the Mot in Motley Crue was a nod to them. It goes further in that one of the guys from Mott the Hoople (I actually forgot which one, but I’ll bet it was that “replacement” for Ian Hunter, Nigel Benjamin) recorded an album with Motley Crue backing him that has never been released. I’m certain that it could not be any worse, than Shouting and Pointing, but if it is, that probably makes it even more essential to hear! I cannot listen to this album at all, nor do i own it, but occassionally, i look it up in the AMG when i need a good laugh. Can you imagine the guys who saw this album cover, and though, We need to be in a band! Everyone talks about All the Young Dudes, but I’ll bet this album launched more bands than any other. It was bigger than punk ever was in Kenner, Louisiana, bra!