Six Word Sunday

Have you joined The Revolution yet?

You Say You Want (Another) Revolution?

"When you don't know where to start, go back to basics..."

Good advice that opens the new release from Lancaster PA's DIY studio assemblage The French Revolution, and advice that the band's core of Daniel French and Jeremy Bentley took to heart both in the original concept for the band and in the recording of their outstanding sophomore effort, Back To Basics.

If you've studied your Lancaster music history, you know that this Revolution began in October of 2009 with the The Letdown, both a debut album and a manifesto:  To Hell with the Corporate Music Business! To Hell with endless touring and gigs in seedy dives in front of unenthusiastic drunks!  To Hell with trying to write The Next Big Hit! To Hell with charging ridiculous prices for a CD so that some label can make a profit! Let us simply make music we enjoy, and give it to the people who enjoy hearing it!

That's right - give it to them. No charge. Free.  A Revolutionary concept indeed!

The Letdown definitely was not a letdown, and neither is Back To Basics, although they are quite different from one another.  Among the guerrilla tactics being employed in this Revolution is the drafting of an ever-changing musical militia.  French and Bentley remain the heart and soul of The French Revolution, but the other musicians helping out on Basics are a completely different cast of characters than those on The Letdown, save for the return of guitarist/keyboardist Jason Sherman.  (Sherman takes a larger role this time around, providing a sizable share of the vocal duties, which were previously solely provided by French.)  The result is a decidedly different personality than the first album.  Where The Letdown was a rocking house party, Back To Basics finds itself getting lost in moments of almost sentimental introspection - the partygoer who takes a moment outside to clear his head before rejoining the fun.

It's nice to hear these layers of emotion becoming a part of The French Revolution's growing bag of tricks.  It shows a continuing growth and depth in songwriting and a willingness to follow where the music they are creating leads.  I would have been disappointed (dare I say "let down"?) to simply hear a rehash of the first album.  Still, it remains difficult to describe the sounds here.  Part of the manifesto is to play the music they want to play, which means they are not beholden to the bounds of any particular genre.  Obviously hard rock is the basic foundation, but that's an awfully wide foundation.  That they each grew up on 90s alternative rock is apparent, but it is equally apparent that they know well the 70s roots from which that grungy genre grew.  Their ability to throw a nifty hook or two into the mix belies a bit of pop influence as well.

Back To Basics is, like its predecessor, being offered as free download here beginning today, June 7.  (The Letdown continues to be available as well.)  My favorite cuts are "D.O.A." and "Incomplete," which you can listen to below, but please, do your part to help the Revolution - download the full album today, and pass the link along to a few friends.  I'm interested in hearing your reviews, so please stop back here and share your thoughts on the album!



"D.O.A."



"Incomplete"

New Wave for the New Week #125

I discovered far too late that one of the greatest "first wave" Punk bands, Stiff Little Fingers, are not only back out on tour, but played in Baltimore this past weekend.  Well damn.  Would have loved to see them.  The good news, according their website, is that their first new album in seven years is in the works.  That bodes well for them coming back around in the relatively near future, I hope!

Stiff Little Fingers, named after a song by The Vibrators, began in Belfast, Ireland, in the mid-70s as hard rockers Highway Star before guitarist Henry Cluney discovered Punk Rock and took the band in that direction.  Jake Burns' gruff, strangled vocals fit the new sound perfectly, and with drummer Brian Faloon and new bassist Ali McMordie rounding out the band, they briefly toured as The Fast before settling on their now-famous moniker.  In early 1978 they issued their first salvo, the single "Suspect Device."  Famously influential UK DJ John Peel loved the record and played it regularly on his radio show, which in turn lead Stiff Little Fingers to a deal with Rough Trade Records.  By the end of the year, they had their first album, Inflammable Material, on record store shelves.

Inflammable Material is as vital to the history of Punk Rock as Ramones or Never Mind The Bollocks.  As one might expect from a late-70s Irish band, this is politically charged stuff delivered at machine-gun pace with barely time to breathe between reloadings, but that does not mean it's not melodic.  Where many a banner-waving slogan-spouting Punk band's songs come across as hyper-speed football chants, SLF's history in hard rock informs their sound. Sure it's basic three-chord stuff, but there is a definite sense of songwriting here as opposed to simple shouting.  With "Suspect Device," "Alternative Ulster," "Barbed Wire Love," and "Wasted Life" among its tracks, it's simply a stunning, must-have LP.

1980's follow-up, Nobody's Heroes, keeps the energy level high and snarl gruff.  Musically, SLF starts to branch out a bit here, especially into dub, ska, and reggae territories hinted at on the first album. (See their excellent cover of The Specials' "Doesn't Make It All Right.")  "Gotta Get Away," "At The Edge," and the title track were all released as singles, and while perhaps not as immediately memorable as the first album's classics, Nobody's Heroes is every bit as good.

Go For It, released the following year, saw the sonic attack mellowing a bit.  SLF's dabblings into varied styles underscored comparisons that had always been made to The Clash, and much like that band, not every experiment works.  Still, the songs and the sound is solid.  A year later came Now Then..., the band's most commercial effort, despite being a sales flop. The album is a fantastic piece of power-pop ear candy (the lead single, "Bits Of Kids," could have been a Cheap Trick single), and has aged remarkably well.  Problem was, the kids wanted Punk Rock, and this sure wasn't Inflammable Material.

A a result of the backlash, the band called it quits.  A decade later, a new Stiff Little Fingers album, Flags and Emblems, appeared.  Burns, Cluney and McMordie had actually reformed a few years earlier, playing live shows here and there, and decided to have another go at being a band.  Three more albums were released in the 1990's (Get A Life, Tinderbox, and Hope Street), each with different line-ups.  2004 saw the release of Guitar And Drum, with the anthemic "Can't Get Away With That" helping it to reach the same level as the first four albums.  And then, silence.  That is, until word of the current tour and a possible new record.

For today's NW4NW entry, here are Stiff Little Fingers in their early prime with the classic "Suspect Device." Enjoy!

At The Moment

I'm smack in the middle of one hell of a dark period.  This one rolled in over the weekend unannounced, triggered by the stupidest little thing, but then these episodes are rarely triggered by anything of substance.  (I remember one day several years back when, out with a group of friends, someone commented that I seemed like I was in a particularly good mood.  The woman I was with at the time warned, only half-facetiously, "Don't worry, his mood will change.  Suddenly, and without warning, but it WILL change.  Enjoy it while you can.")

It's funny how I can always recognize when my OCD or anxiety demons are up to their tricks, but the depression demon can be so slick as to set up shop and get to work well in advance of my internal alarm system notifying me.  It's like a smoke detector that is extremely poorly placed, so that by the time it goes off half the house is engulfed in flame already.  Still haven't figured out where to put that damn detector.

This is a particularly rough one.  I got up yesterday morning in a fairly decent frame of mind, but somewhere along about lunchtime, I realized things weren't right.  I didn't recognize what was happening yet, but something was off.  And I was suddenly damn tired - not just sleepy, but the kind of tired where moving your limbs is a chore, and where sitting up straight seems like far more effort than it's worth. I napped. Most of the afternoon and evening. Ate some dinner, but more because I knew I should eat something than because I was hungry.  "Dinner" was really a bologna and cheese sandwich.  Rarely left the couch. At no point during the day did I open the blinds, much less leave the house.  Just sat there, lumplike, alternately sleeping and staring at the TV.  Today has been more of the same.  Honestly, I couldn't tell you where today went.  I was "up" around 7:00-ish, but again the day has been spent napping on and off.  No appetite. No motivation.

My head is uncomfortable. It's not a headache in the traditional sense - it's not pain.  I feel as though I cannot unfurrow my brow, and my own voice is screaming in my brain as if it were trying desperately to jump out of my head, flinging itself like a tantrum-throwing child against the inside of my skull in vain efforts to crash through that wall of bone to freedom.  I want to cry, but there are no tears to cry.  Resultantly, my eyes burn and feel heavy in their sockets.  My teeth are gritted and my neck is tense.  Hell, every muscle in my body is tensed as if I were preparing to have to physically defend myself from something.  My stomach feels strange - not nauseous, not nervous, but somewhere in between, similar to the way it feels when experiencing a surge of adrenalin, but not exactly the same.  The adrenalin surge fades with time; this has  been a day and a half now.

Does any of that make sense?  I know these sensations very well.  They are not symptoms of illness - well, at least not of physical illness like a flu bug or having eaten something that might have been a few days past its use-by date.  The thoughts that accompany them, fueled undoubtedly by my ever-present Internal Greek Chorus of OCD and SA, are both sad and angry, usually.  This time, they are more angry than sad.  It's a loud, visceral anger, overpowering at times yet unfocused.  I couldn't tell you who or what I am angry with, I am just angry.  Feel like I could lash out like a cornered animal at anyone who came too close.

And therein lies another great conundrum:  I wish I had someone I could tell all this to, someone who would listen and understand and tell me its OK and help me get through this.  At the same time, I don't want anyone around me when I'm like this, because I know I will be nasty towards them - a cutting, sarcastic, verbal nastiness.  It is, I think, a large part of the reason I remain single: it takes a very strong, thick-skinned woman to be with me during these times.  Believe me, I have scared off more than a few over the years when things got "too intense," to use the phrase I have heard more than a few times.

And before you suggest, yes, I do have a therapist - have had for years.  But that's a very different type of interaction.  An important one, one I value immensely, and one that I recommend highly to anyone who fights demons similar to mine.  I would never have come as far as I have without my therapist's help.  As I say, though, that's a different interaction.

I'm going to stop here.  I may not be making a whole hell of a lot of sense, but blogging these things helps me to sort out the jumble of thoughts that clog my beautifully broken brain.  I don't write these types of posts looking for sympathy or to cry "oh woe is me," nor do I write them really for anyone's benefit but my own.  Maybe there are some of you out there reading who get it, maybe there aren't.  Hell, maybe no one reads this.  But it helps me, and that what matters.  At the moment, anyway.

Six Word Sunday

Time to change a few things.

The Go-Go's Go Wild In Hershey PA

[Note: The regular Monday feature, New Wave For The New Week, will return next week.]

It only took me 30 years, but last night I crossed off another from the "Bands I Need To See Live" section of my personal bucket list.  The Go-Go's played at The Hershey Theater in Hershey, PA last night - a show that was a wonderful combination of music, party and nostalgia for the good-ol-days.

My friend Janel and I could not have timed our arrival at the venue much better.  We saw the lines outside, and given the heat and humidity of the day, neither of us were thrilled with the idea of waiting outside. No worries, as it turned out.  No sooner did we take our place in line than the ushers opened doors and let everyone in.  As someone who has attended innumerable shows at innumerable clubs in innumerable towns over the past 25 years, I can tell you, that never happens!  If anything, the doors are going to open late.  It was a sign that a good evening lie ahead.

And yes, I did say "ushers," not "bouncers."  The Hershey Theater is just that - a beautiful old theater with stage, orchestra pit, and tiered seating.  Seating! Again, after years of standing on hard concrete beer-soaked floors crammed sardine-like beyond fire code limits in warehouse-style spaces to see many of my favorite bands, the concept of sitting in plush, upholstered theater seats was a foreign one.  No matter, because The Go-Go's were greeted with an enthusiastic standing ovation when they took the stage and launched into "Vacation;" for the rest of the show, hardly anyone sat down.

I know from live recordings I have heard over the years that, much as I love them, hearing The Go-Go's live is a bit of a gamble.  When they're on, they're awesome, but when they're having an off night they have been known to induce a cringe or two among my circle of friends.  Last night may have only been the second night of the current Ladies Gone Wild Tour, but they were most definitely on! They were energetic and entertaining, and looked like they were having as much fun as the crowd.  Nothing is worse than catching a band on a night when they look and sound like they'd rather be anywhere else but there; The Go-Go's were definitely not one of those bands last night.

Their set relied heavily on their 1981 debut album Beauty And The Beat (naturally, as this year celebrates the 30th anniversary of that LP, now available in a special anniversary reissue), but they pulled some from every album, even giving the single from 1994's Return To The Valley Of The Go-Go's compilation, "The Whole World Lost Its Head," a run-through, as well as Belinda Carlisle's solo hit "Mad About You" and Jane Wiedlin's wonderful collaboration with Sparks, "Cool Places."  Most surprising was a decidedly excellent cover of The Rolling Stones' "Mother's Little Helper."  For their second encore and final song, they went deep into their back catalog to play "Fun With Ropes," which only ever saw release in a roughly recorded version included on Return.  Have to say, getting to see The Go-Go's perform "Our Lips Are Sealed" ranks up there with the best performances of favorite songs I have ever seen. A nice touch:  having never played Hershey before, they dedicated Beauty's "This Town" to Hershey, PA, changing the line "it is so glamorous" to "it is so chocolatey..."

The theater was packed with eager Go-Gos fans and bouncing beach balls, which also kept the energy level high.  We agreed heading in that neither of us could predict what kind of crowd might be showing up. It was fascinating to do a bit of people watching: there were families with kids who couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 bopping along happily with the music; there were folks in our age group, some in full rock-and-roll costume, others as preppy as you could imagine; there was a large older contingent, too.  Everyone knew the songs and sang and clapped along and had a great time, though.

All in all, one of the more fun shows I've been to in awhile, and I sure won't complain about not having to sit through a series of opening bands.  I had hoped to get a chance to get to thank the band for their music and maybe get a record or two signed - who knows when or if they'll be back on the East Coast again! - but that didn't happen.  So, Belinda, Jane, Kathy, Charlotte and Gina - if you're reading this, thank you for the past 30+ years, and thank you for a great time last night in Hershey!

Six Word Sunday

Better late than never, right? ...Right?

New Wave for the New Week #124

Since the earliest days of rock and roll music being pressed into vinyl, there has existed the bands that, well, don't actually exist.  One of my favorite examples of this phenomenon happened during the late-60s/early-70s bubblegum era, when a session musician by the name of Tony Burrows was actually the lead vocalist on four contemporary top-ten records: The Edison Lighthouse's "Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes)," White Plains' "My Baby Loves Lovin'," The Pipkins' "Gimme Dat Ding" and The Brotherhood of Man's "United We Stand."  One guy, four simultaneous hit records, four bands that didn't really exist! (He'd add a fifth a few years later with "Beach Baby" by The First Class.)

The New Wave equivalent to Tony Burrows may not have been quite so prolific or successful, but the influence Daniel Miller had on hundreds upon hundreds of musicians to follow his lead and go make a record is hard to understate.  After all, his initial studio project needed a record label, so Miller created Mute Records, which would go on to introduce the world to bands like Depeche Mode, Yazoo and Fad Gadget among many others.

Miller was a bored film editor who, in 1978, discovered the two muses that would propel him into the music world: a synthesizer and the novel Crash by J.G. Ballard.  Miller was taken by Ballard's description of characters whose sexual fetish centers around purposefully caused automobile accidents and the injuries caused by them, and sought to translate that theme into music.  The cold, electronic sounds of the synthesizers of the day were a perfect aural analogy for the cold technology that propelled Ballard's story, and in short order Miller had written and recorded "Warm Leatherette."  A stark, minimalist piece that involves two chords and virtually no melody, "Warm Leatherette" is nonetheless insidiously, almost hypnotically catchy.  Miller succeeds in his effort to use sound to mimic driving through city streets and tunnels at high speed.  The music may be primitive and almost laughably simple, but it does suggest motion.  You can almost hear the buildings whizzing past in a blur as the car continues forward intent on its target.  Miller's utterly emotionless vocal creates an otherworldly aura that renders his final request of his target to "make love before you die" as nothing more than the completion of a task as opposed to a final romantic gesture.  It's a stunning record even by today's standards; in 1978 it was startling. Miller credited his work to a fictional band called The Normal, and "Warm Leatherette" (b/w "T.V.O.D.") became the first single released on the Mute label. 

For his next trick, Miller went to the opposite end of the emotional spectrum.  If The Normal was cold and feelingless synth art, them The Silicon Teens would be downright giddy throwaway pop product! With a wink and a nod to another non-existent band, The Flying Lizards, Miller's Silicon Teens project took well-known hits of the previous generation and reinterpreted them in a new medium and not without a full dose of snarky irony.  Where The Flying Lizards deconstructed and minimalized the familiar, The Silicon Teens left their source material relatively unwarped.  Imagined as a futuristic cover band, these fictional Teens breezed through plinky, bleepy covers of  "Judy In Disguise (With Glasses)," "Memphis, Tennessee," and "You Really Got Me," among several others, on their lone album, 1980's Music For Parties.  Once again, this was all Daniel Miller, but this time he had to do more than invent a band name: he had to invent a band!  After all, in 1980 the music video era was starting to pick up steam, and Miller needed some Silicon Teens to make a clip of their own.  So he went out and hired a group of actors to portray The Silicon Teens in a video for "Memphis."  His newly cast band also made the tours of UK pop music shows and radio station interviews.

After this, Miller began to focus more on studio work for the bands he was beginning to sign to the Mute label, although over the years he would occasionally collaborate with other artists on different projects.  Nothing quite captured people's attention like The Normal and The Silicon Teens, however.  So, for this week's NW4NW entry, let's hear from each! First up, The Normal's "Warm Leatherette," and then The Silicon Teens' "Memphis, Tennessee."  Enjoy!




Silicon Teens - Memphis Tennessee by Rikardo1980

Six Word Sunday

Hey look! We're all still here!

Flash Fiction Friday: Wake Up

Jason Deeds, a member of the local writers group I participate in, has been in the habit of providing us with weekly writing prompts which he dubbed Flash Fiction Friday.  I have not, however, been in the habit of making use of those prompts, as I have never been particularly pleased with my ability (or lack thereof) to write fiction.  In my continuing efforts to push my writing out of my comfort zone, I decided to start joining in.  I decided I will also share my ham-fisted attempts at fiction writing here, hoping to receive feedback from you good readers.  Is it any good? Is it crap? Should I spare you further attempts in this genre, or should I keep going?

This week's prompt was: "The morning you woke up and everyone was gone, no family, no friends, no one that you can find. The Rapture happened and you were left behind. What do you do?"  Here is my take:


Wake Up

You know that briefest of moments when you first wake up but you haven't yet opened your eyes?  I clung to that moment, happily existing midway between sleep and consciousness.  I buried my head into my pillow and squeezed my eyelids even more tightly, let myself feel the weight of my body against the mattress.  It was so perfectly comfortable, not unlike what sleeping on a cloud must feel like.  Through the open window by the side of my bed, a cool summer-like breeze carried the sounds of children happily laughing and playing, and the excited chatter of neighbors.  A lot of chatter and a lot of neighbors, I thought, but I wasn't annoyed by the noise.  In fact, it was almost melodic.

I lay there for a moment more, feeling absolutely joyful.  How wonderful to start the day in such a great mood! Then, another of my senses awakened: the familiar, homey aroma of bacon, eggs, hotcakes and fresh-squeezed oranges wafted through my room from the downstairs kitchen.  I sat up, stretched and yawned, threw on my robe and went downstairs to investigate.

My grandmother stood at the kitchen stove whistling happily, and when I appeared in the doorway she turned, smiled, wiped her hands on her apron, and greeted me with outstretched arms. "You're here, Little One!" she exclaimed, calling me by the familiar nickname she had always used for me.  I rushed to her and embraced her with overflowing happiness.  "Nana!" I cried, "what are you doing here?"

Then, in a moment, the realization: Nana had passed away five years ago.  I tried to speak, but she seemed to anticipate my question. "Don't worry, it will all make sense soon enough.  Now run along outside with everyone else. Breakfast will be ready soon."  And with that, she shooed me out the door just as she had when I was a child.

The fresh air nearly took my breath away.  The neighborhood never looked so vibrant; the sky never so blue and the grass never so green.  And people! People everywhere, laughing, chattering, hugging...it was utterly joyous.  I spotted my family congregated over by the neighbor's fence, and I went to join them when I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

I turned to see who it was but the light was so bright, as if a thousand halogen lamps were being shined directly at me.  My eyes squinted shut in self-defense, and then a voice I did not recognize spoke.

"We really must apologize.  It's not often that these kind of mix-ups happen, but today has been a particularly busy day.  It's been easiest to bring entire families, and in most cases that accomplishes it.  But in your case..."  The voice hesitated for a moment.  "Again, we really apologize. There's no easy way to put this other than to simply say it: You're not supposed to be here."

Again I tried to speak, but the voice continued: "Fortunately, this can be corrected relatively easily. If you'll just step this way..."

I felt a sudden exhaustion, a sudden need to go back to sleep as the bright light enveloped me, and again I found myself in that odd purgatory between sleep and consciousness.  I quickly shook off the bonds of sleep and sat bolt upright in bed.  I rubbed my eyes and looked around at my room, shrouded in the grey of yet another rainy May morning.  I looked out the window and saw not a soul; heard not a sound other than an ominously long, low rumble of thunder in the distance.  The sky looked awfully dark, as if there was about to be one Hell of a storm...