2004: On - Your Naked Ghost Comes Back at Night
I usually appreciate ambient music as an appetizer rather than a main course. Artists like Chicago's Colorlist, for example, make wonderful use of ambient textures in their succulent analogue and electronic weddings, but if you remove those textures from the sort of compositional frameworks found in most genres, you're left with a style that can easily slip into background-music territory. The ambient-electro act On succeed in some regards, but still fall into many of ambient music's typical trappings.
Your Naked Ghost Comes Back at Night is a collaboration between Chicago percussionist Steven Hess, French composer Sylvain Chauveau, and Norwegian producer Helge Stern, working here for the last time under his moniker Deathprod. Hess and Chauveau wrote and recorded the album using analogue equipment, then handed it off to Stern to remix. Stern's production work is commendable; he preserves a hushed tone through each composition, blurs the distinctions between where Hess ends and Chauveau begins, and textures each track with subtle electronic glitches. So acutely does Stern make his presence felt that I would have assumed this to be an entirely digital work if not for the press release. The dominance of Stern's mix might also contribute to a certain flatness that pervades the album. I imagine that some elements -- Hess' thundering percussion, Chauveau's prepared guitar sound effects -- might have shown more dynamic range in their original form.
As they are, these compositions evoke barren, wind-swept plains, the kind of place where you could hear distant echoes of crying in the night. Only the title track, with its trilling guitar motif (Or is it piano? The remixing renders some of the instrumentation ambiguous), betrays any hints of warmth. The stillness and invariance of each piece make even the most minuscule embellishment ring out as a shot, like the tiny pin-pricks of guitar noise amid the rumble and hum of “Erotique” or the percussive droplets that hammer down with increasing regularity throughout “In the Forest of the Night.” Only the longest tracks (“Façade” at 12 minutes and “The Lonesome Poetry of Mark Rothko” at 17) seem to completely wear out their welcome, exhausting their meager range and the listener's patience well before their runtime is complete.
My problems with Your Naked Ghost… are the problems that I have with ambient music in general: that for all of the latitude in instrumentation and approach the genre allows, the end products usually wind up sounding kind of the same. The sinusoidal rhythms lead to a somewhat predictable development and, quite bluntly, get boring. But if there's something that I can say for On (and probably for ambient artists in general), it's that they force you to be still and focus on the object in ways that our instant gratification generation is no longer used to. The rewards of Your Naked Ghost Comes Back at Night are of a peculiarly esoteric sort, but they are there for those with the patience to find them.
1. Your Naked Ghost Comes Back at Night and Flies Around My Bed
2. Erotique
3. Too Many Demons Still Haunt This Land
4. Oh Run Slowly
5. Façade
6. In the Forest of the Night
7. The Lonesome Poetry of Mark Rothko
2000: Songs: Ohia - Ghost Tropic
I don't know who it was or how it happened, but someone, some time ago, broke Jason Molina's heart. Listen to any of his records released under the now-retired Songs: Ohia moniker, and this fact becomes painfully and unmistakably clear. Molina makes no bones about the crushing sense of loss and longing that informs his songs; rather, he embraces it as his musical raison d'etre. With it, he builds songs up and breaks them down; he puts them together and, on Ghost Tropic, he blows them all apart.
Released in late 2000, it's difficult not to view the sparse, haunting Ghost Tropic as the centerpiece of a musical trilogy of sorts, beginning with the tough, resonant The Lioness (also released in 2000) and concluding with 2002's brilliant, gospel-informed Didn't It Rain. Easily the best three records of Molina's career thus far, taken together they form a heartbreaking anthology of love and loss like no other. Plenty musicians of our day have pontificated on the nature of that most pervasive and familiar of human quandaries, but few have done so with as much consistent gumption as Molina. And it is Ghost Tropic that holds the dubious distinction of being the bleakest of the bleak: while the cuts and bruises of Lioness were still fresh, raw -- painful but not yet insidious -- and the songs on Didn't It Rain carry a certain calm acceptance about them, Ghost Tropic finds Molina smack in the midst of a goddamn monster of a darkness.
The music on Ghost Tropic is scant, vaporous, barely there. I called it "sparse" above; really, that doesn't come close. Impatient listeners might initially write the album off as painfully slow, wearisome even -- and it is, at points. More often, though, its exactness only enhances the delicate, intensely crafted nature of the songs emerging from the belly of this beast. There is a peculiar sort of deconstruction at work here that informs the entirety of the record. "Lightning Risked It All" opens the album with a literal thud, a muted guitar providing a deliberate, stifled rhythm while a second guitar rings out some awkward harmonics, which someone -- Molina or guest Alasdair Roberts -- manipulates in real time by de- and re-tuning the instrument's strings. "It's not a generous world," Molina posits. "It is a separate world." The net effect is one of spooky isolation. It is no stretch to call Ghost Tropic Molina's most experimental recording, and in hindsight, it is an enlightening listen. While his newer work under the Magnolia Electric Co. moniker is far and large first-rate, that band's straightforward rock 'n' roll groove leaves little room for the sort of haunted atmospherics heard here.
Not only are these songs pared down musically, but lyrically, this is Molina's most terse offering to date. "I once had all the words/ I forgot all the words," he laments on the brutal, shuffling "The Body Burns Away." An uncharacteristically Latin-influenced rhythm guides the song through its chilling climax, in which Molina vigorously repeats the song's nihilistic title in an apparent attempt to convince himself of the futility of love and, well, everything else. The body burns away, and all that is left is the specter of loss; there is nothing concrete, no words at all. Later, on the calm, funereal "No Limit On The Words," it is simply "I will say nothing." If it isn't clear yet, I shall now enlighten you: this, pals, ain't music for the faint of spirit. Dark is one thing, but this is bitter and unyielding. It is music perhaps best understood in the context of a particularly dark and vicious winter or the dry, punishing heat of some harsh, unwelcoming desert.
All this is not to say that Ghost Tropic is an unpleasant listen. Its songs are inventive and actually very pretty, and beneath the hardened exterior of each slow-burner lies a subtle but definite tinge of hope and redemption. That theme would eventually be realized more tangibly on the aforementioned Didn't It Rain, with its buoyant opening line, "No matter how dark the storm gets overhead/ They say someone's watching from the calm at the edge." Here, it exists in amoebic form: in the resolutely indecipherable imagery of "Not Just A Ghost's Heart," with its equation of love to oceanic navigation ("Her curve's the whole coast"), and in the staid, desperate plea of "Work it out with me" in the marathon closer "Incantation."
But those moments of apparent optimism are few and far between on a record like Ghost Tropic. Even if you haven't heard it, you know the type. It is a relatively well-worn concept: the somber, self-loathing, "love-can-and-probably-will-kill-you" masterpiece. Neil Young's On The Beach comes to mind, as does Leonard Cohen's Songs Of Love And Hate (although those records possess an alleviatory dry humor largely missing from Ghost Tropic). Upon listening to any of these albums, some might wonder: why the need for such ostensibly aimless misery for the sake of music, for the sake of Art? Is this not just pain for pain's sake? Are Jason Molina and, by extension, all those who seek out and enjoy the bleakness of a record like Ghost Tropic nothing more than a herd of selfish, grief-seeking masochists? Well, maybe. But really, probably not. Put bluntly, and with an unavoidable degree of cliché, Molina expresses how we all feel from time to time. Forget smilin' on your brother and loving one another right now: this is music by, for, and about you and me. It is incredibly, unapologetically human, for better or for worse.
1. Lightning Risked It All
2. The Body Burned Away
3. No Limits on the Words
4. Ghost Tropic
5. Ocean's Nerves
6. Not Just a Ghost's Heart
7. Ghost Tropic
8. Incantation
1991: Phil Spector - Back To Mono (1958-1969)
Let’s get this out of he way: Phil Spector is a crazy motherfucker. He always was, too. Stories abound about the producer’s temper, from abusing then-wife Ronnie Spector (of The Ronettes) to pulling a gun on John Lennon during the ex-Beatles' Rock ‘n’ Roll sessions. Then, of course, there’s the recent trial in which he was indicted for killing actress Lana Clarkson. He appeared in court sporting a classy suit and the most amazing afro you’ll ever see. Crazy motherfucker.
But Phil Spector is also an artistic genius. That word gets thrown around a lot in music criticism, but Spector’s cultural influence can’t be overstated. His ear for arrangement was impeccable, and he used this ability to revolutionize pop music. Under his watch -- in concert and competition with The Beatles, of course -- teenage pop became a serious art form. The Ronettes, The Crystals, and Darlene Love became icons of adolescent melodrama, all to the strains of baritone saxophones, glockenspiels, and strings. Many musicians, including a young Bruce Springsteen, were listening.
Back To Mono, an out-of-print, spectacular box set, does its best to encapsulate Spector’s glory years. The results aren’t always perfect -- his cloying early work will make you cringe -- but hearing Spector’s artistic evolution makes his peaks all the more dizzying. As with most chronological box sets, Back To Mono’s middle portions (in this case, the end of Disc 1 through the beginning of Disc 3) are its best. Highlights come hard and fast: “Be My Baby,” “Then He Kissed Me,” “Da Doo Ron Ron,” “(Today I Met) The Boy I’m Gonna Marry.” Heartbreak has never sounded so wonderful.
The third disc is largely a portrait of the mid-to-late 60s. As America’s post-Kennedy cultural innocence was waning, Spector’s sound was changing -- bells and strings gave way to the rawness of Ike & Tina Turner’s “River Deep, Mountain High” and “I’ll Never Need More Than This.” Spector was barely keeping up with the times, but many of the resulting tracks were amazing.
A Christmas Gift For You, Spector’s 1963 Christmas record, comprises the entire fourth disc. For my money, it’s the best holiday pop album ever released, one that contains all the pain and pleasure of the Christmas season with the mixed emotions of Spector’s best teen symphonies. Its centerpiece, Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” is Spector in a glistening nutshell: aching for the joy at arm’s length, shining like a Christmas tree, and just out of reach.
Disc 1:
1. To Know Him Is to Love Him - Teddy Bears
2. Corrine, Corrina - Ray Peterson
3. Spanish Harlem - Ben E. King
4. Pretty Little Angel Eyes - Curtis Lee
5. Every Breath I Take - Gene Pitney
6. I Love How You Love Me - The Paris Sisters
7. Under the Moon of Love - Curtis Lee
8. There's No Other (Like My Baby) - The Crystals
9. Uptown - The Crystals
10. He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss) - The Crystals
11. He's a Rebel - The Crystals
12. Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah - Bob B. Soxx & the Blue Jeans
13. Puddin' N' Tain - Alley Cats
14. He's Sure the Boy I Love - The Crystals
15. Why Do Lovers Break Each Others Hearts? - Bob B. Soxx & the Blue Jeans
16. (Today I Met) The Boy I'm Gonna Marry - Darlene Love
17. Da Doo Ron Ron - The Crystals
18. Heartbreaker - The Crystals
19. Why Don't They Let Us Fall in Love – Veronica
20. Chapel of Love - Darlene Love
21. Not Too Young to Get Married - Bob B. Soxx & the Blue Jeans
22. Wait 'Til My Bobby Gets Home - Darlene Love
23. All Grown Up - The Crystals
Disc 2:
1. Be My Baby - The Ronettes
2. Then He Kissed Me - The Crystals
3. Fine, Fine Boy - Darlene Love
4. Baby I Love You - The Ronettes
5. I Wonder - The Ronettes
6. Girls Can Tell - The Crystals
7. Little Boy - The Crystals
8. Hold Me Tight - The Treasures
9. (The Best Part of) Breakin' Up - The Ronettes
10. Soldier Baby (Of Mine) - The Ronettes
11. Strange Love - Darlene Love
12. Stumble and Fall - Darlene Love
13. When I Saw You - The Ronettes
14. So Young – Veronica
15. Do I Love You? - The Ronettes
16. Keep on Dancing - The Ronettes
17. You Baby - The Ronettes
18. Woman in Love (With You) - The Ronettes
19. Walking in the Rain - The Ronettes
Disc 3:
1. You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' - The Righteous Brothers
2. Born to Be Together - The Ronettes
3. Just Once in My Life - The Righteous Brothers
4. Unchained Melody - The Righteous Brothers
5. Is This What I Get for Loving You? - The Ronettes
6. Long Way to Be Happy - Darlene Love
7. (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons - The Righteous Brothers
8. Ebb Tide - The Righteous Brothers
9. This Could Be the Night - Modern Folk Quartet
10. Paradise - The Ronettes
11. River Deep, Mountain High - Ike & Tina Turner
12. I'll Never Need More Than This - Ike & Tina Turner
13. Love Like Yours (Don't Come Knocking Everyday) - Ike & Tina Turner
14. Save the Last Dance for Me - Ike & Tina Turner
15. I Wish I Never Saw the Sunshine - The Ronettes
16. You Came, You Saw, You Conquered - The Ronettes
17. Black Pearl - Sonny Charles & The Checkmates, Ltd
18. Love Is All I Have to Give - The Checkmates
Disc 4:
1. White Christmas - Darlene Love
2. Frosty The Snowman - The Ronettes
3. The Bells of St. Mary - Bob B. Soxx and The Blue Jeans
4. Santa Claus is Coming to Town - The Crystals
5. Sleigh Ride - The Ronettes
6. Marshmallow World - Darlene Love
7. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - The Ronettes
8. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - The Crystals
9. Winter Wonderland - Darlene Love
10. Parade of the Wooden Soldiers - The Crystals
11. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love
12. Here Comes Santa Claus - Bob B. Soxx and The Blue Jeans
13. Silent Night - Phil Spector and Artists
2009: The Jesus Lizard - Pure; Head; Goat; Liar; Down
In the often rarified world of noise rock, there are few acts as powerful or galvanizing as The Jesus Lizard. Combining the gut-wrenching ferocity of The Birthday Party with Led Zeppelin heaviness, and topping it all off with a twisted, occasionally juvenile sense of humor, The Jesus Lizard created some of the most terrifying sounds ever committed to tape without sacrificing a single iota of fist-pumping, stage-diving, in-your-face immediacy. Now, ten years after their dissolution, Touch and Go has given the band’s back catalogue a much-needed facelift.
As with many independent albums recorded in decades past, the original pressings sounded quiet by today’s standards. The remastering brings each wet slice of nastiness to its full, ear-shredding volume. Even more important than making the albums louder, the reissues shine a spotlight on Steve Albini’s production. Along with Surfer Rosa, Albini’s work with The Jesus Lizard has long been considered some of his finest engineering, and it’s never been easier to hear why. From the chittering locust-swarm of crashing cymbals that rises at the end of “Slave Ship,” to Yow’s gargling-piss-through-a-mouthful-of-wet-leaves tirade in “Starlet,” every detail is lovingly laid bare for the listener to admire. Each release comes with an assortment of singles, B-sides, and live cuts, some of which (like “Pop Song,” “Panic in Cicero,” and the “Boilermaker” demo) have not been previously collected.
Listening to these albums all at once, I got a powerful sense of how rapidly The Jesus Lizard developed in the five short years they were signed to Touch and Go. Just two years after the split of their Austin noise-punk band Scratch Acid, David Yow and bass player David Wm. Sims teamed up with guitarist Duane Dennison to release the Pure EP. It contains some of the most unhinged vocal work of Yow’s career. Whether he’s croaking obscene, inflectionless threats in the Ministry-esque “Blockbuster,” unleashing a torrent of harrowing shrieks in “Bloody Mary,” or squealing and snorting his way through “Rabid Pigs,” Yow makes clear that there isn’t another singer in the industry quite like him.
The band's decision to use a drum machine, as well as their association with Albini, is probably responsible for the Big Black comparisons that dogged them early on. But the addition of drummer Mac McNeily on their first full-length, Head, brought a living, organic touch to the music, and lent an even greater propulsive force to songs like “One Evening” and the album’s awe-inspiring centerpiece, “7 vs. 8.” One can hear echoes of Scratch Acid’s “Mary Had a Little Drug Problem” in Dennison’s grinding guitar tidal wave, but the pacing and dynamic control in "7 vs. 8" speaks of a maturity never quite attained by Yow and Sims’ earlier act.
It’s Goat, however, where The Jesus Lizard reaches the perfect balance between theatrical, nightmare-inducing noise and hard-hitting rock. Lurching, sub-rational eruptions like “Seasick” sit comfortably next to tighter, riff-oriented assaults like “Mouth Breather.” Moreover, the two approaches combine in ways only hinted at in previous releases. “Monkey Trick” is a shining jewel in The Jesus Lizard catalogue. The rhythm section takes center stage through much of its four-minute running time. Dennison wraps his shimmering, intermittent guitar figures around the edges of Sims’ portentous bass line and McNeily’s measured poundings. The tension builds towards a moment of sweet release as Dennison seizes the lead back from Sims with a shredding burst of noise followed by a series of staccato notes timed in unison with Yow’s wild shrieks.
Liar only continues Goat’s triumphant rampage. The band kicks the door in with songs like “Boilermaker” and “The Art of Self-Defense,” making room for the spry Texas punk of “Rope” and the brooding, epic “Zachariah,” both of which stand alone amid the band’s early work. Perhaps the highest point of the album is the single “Gladiator.” Yow snarls, keens, and hisses through every shift and contortion that Sims and Dennison can muster, and the lyrical juxtaposition of marital infidelity and gunplay only enhances the song’s oblique sense of foreboding -- an unshakeable feeling that something bad is going to happen.
From Pure to Liar, The Jesus Lizard had been on a steady upward climb; Down finds the band reaching a plateau. While Yow’s vocal performances remain captivating, he doesn’t push himself quite as far. His lyrics come across cranky more often than scary, and the humor -- typically ambiguous on previous releases -- is more overt (although even when Yow is being funny he says things like “I’m gonna cut little gill slits in the side of your neck and blow in 'em with a straw”). Down generally lacks the psychotic energy that characterized the band's prior work. Yet when viewed apart from its fore-bearers, the album still has plenty to offer. Fine moments like “Fly on the Wall,” “The Associate,” and “Destroy Before Reading” show that, though this beast may have mellowed, it hadn’t lost its teeth.
The Jesus Lizard had plenty of contemporaries in the early 90s who sought to reconcile their esoteric punk leanings with heavy metal’s big, dumb gut-punch, but few (if any) made music so simultaneously thrilling and threatening. If you’re discovering the band for the first time, then these reissues are a no-brainer (I’d recommend beginning with Liar or Goat). The improved sound quality and bonus tracks should make each disc attractive to longtime fans, though they’ll probably want to start upgrading gradually. In any case, one can only hope that the buzz surrounding these reissues and the band’s current reunion tour will introduce the scariest gods in Chicago’s rock pantheon to a whole new generation of young minds just waiting to be warped.
Pure:
1. Blockbuster
2. Bloody Mary
3. Rabid Pigs
4. Starlet
5. Happy Bunny Goes Fluff-Fluff Along
6. Bloody Mary (Live)
Head:
1. One Evening
2. S.D.B.J.
3. My Own Urine
4. If You Had Lips
5. 7 vs. 8
6. Pastoral
7. Waxeater
8. Good Thing
9. Tight ‘N Shiny
10. Killer McHann
11. Chrome
12. Killer McHann (Live)
Goat:
1. Then Comes Duddley
2. Mouth Breather
3. Nub
4. Seasick
5. Monkey Trick
6. Karpis
7. South Mouth
8. Lady Shoes
9. Rodeo in Joliet
10. Sunday You Need Love
11. Pop Song
12. Sesick (Live)
13. Lady Shoes (Live)
14. Monkey Trick (Live)
Liar:
1. Boilermaker
2. Gladiator
3. The Art of Self-Defense
4. Slave Ship
5. Puss
6. Whirl
7. Rope
8. Perk
9. Zachariah
10. Dancing Naked Ladies
11. Wheelchair Epidemic
12. Dancing Naked Ladies
13. Gladiator (Idful Studios Sessions Demo)
14. Boilermaker (Idful Studios Sessions Demo)
Down:
1. Fly on the Wall
2. Mistletoe
3. Countless Backs of Sad Losers
4. Queen for a Day
5. The Associate
6. Destroy Before Reading
7. Low Rider
8. 50 Cent
9. American BB
10. Horse
11. Din
12. Elegy
13. The Best Parts
14. White Hole
15. Glamorous
16. Deaf as a Bat
17. Panic in Cicero
2002: Amalgamated Sons of Rest - Amalgamated Sons of Rest
The American novelist James Baldwin once stated, “the primary distinction of the artist is that he must actively cultivate that state which most men, necessarily, must avoid: the state of being alone." I imagine the three men of Amalgamated Sons of Rest understand this statement well enough. Whether it's Will Oldham and his various incarnations (Palace, Bonnie "Prince" Billy); Jason Molina and his now-retired Songs: Ohia alias; or the lesser-known, but similarly-minded Scottish songwriter Alasdair Roberts (otherwise known as Appendix Out); they've each got a long history of creating music, more or less, by themselves.
So what happens when three relatively solitary men get together? Do they collaborate in equal parts, or do they work in tandem, one or two being pulled by another? Judging by the output of this brief seven-song EP, it’s the latter. Each song has a main man in front of two supporting roles who provide instrumentation and occasional harmony. The tracks, both original tunes and new takes on traditional songs, sound exactly as you'd expect: moody, maybe a little dusty, and inhabited by ghosts of the sea and the Civil War. Instead of three exemplary songwriters pushing each other to create something revelatory, we find a safe and expected batch of tunes that don’t stray too far, if at all, from their comfort zones.
In fact, it’s not until the album’s last three songs -- Oldham’s "Major March," the Molina-led "Jennie’s Blackbird Blues," and the hidden track, "I Will Be Good" -- that the trio gets beyond the surface. Oldham’s tale of a long-departed soldier and Molina’s sparse, piano-led blues pull the listener into hauntingly dark territory. And then, in a pleasantly surprising twist of sequencing, the hidden track reveals itself as a calm, dare I say, upbeat bit of harmonic aphorism. It's simple, refreshing, and ultimately quite lovely, with all three voices sharing the spotlight. It's also the only point where the collaboration of these incredibly talented men reaches its potential.
But if we have to wait until a hidden track for a payoff, why collaborate at all? If the results remain overwhelmingly predictable, what’s the point? After all, this isn’t the first musical supergroup to falter. Maybe it’s just the desire to create with friends, respected colleagues, hell, anyone other than the standard session musicians -- to reach outside of yourself for a few songs and see what happens. But if that’s the case for Amalgamated Sons of Rest, the product is more or less a friendly jam-session demo. Whether that’s something that needs to be heard by anyone outside of a close circle of friends is arguable. Perhaps it would have been more satisfying to be left wondering what the wunderkinds could do, instead of being relatively disappointed by the results.
1. "Maa Bonny Lad"
2. "My Donal"
3. "The Gypsy He-Witch"
4. "The Last House"
5. "Major March"
6. "Jennie Blackbird’s Blues"
7. "I Will Be Good"
2009: Big Star - Keep an Eye on the Sky
It’s best to strip away the legends, the nearly four decades of rock-writer mythologizing, the unabashed evangelism of the fervent cult of Big Star. Discard it all. Just press play on “Back of a Car” and wonder with the rest of them how the song escaped being a massive hit, one of those tunes that ends up on thousands of mass market “Best of the Seventies” compilations, its creators immortalized on yellowing covers of Rolling Stone. It’s just that good, a pitch-perfect encapsulation of everything primal about youth and reckless, burgeoning independence: you sat in the back of a car, “the music so loud you can’t hear a thing.” Maybe it was The Beatles thundering out of your buddy’s mom-lent sedan. Maybe it was The Replacements, turned up so loud the speakers crackled and shuddered. Maybe it was goddam Blink 182. Whichever the case, the song fills you with memories of that moment, as Jody Stephens cranks out that sublime drum fill. It’s as universal as how wet your first french kiss felt, never to feel that sloppy wet again.
Pardon the hyperbole. It’s near impossible to resist when discussing Big Star. Keep An Eye On the Sky, the new boxed set from Rhino/Ardent Records rewards this enthusiasm. Over 98 tracks, Big Star’s three studio albums -- the cheekily titled #1 Record, it’s sharper-edged follow-up Radio City, and the group’s fractured and brilliantly disjointed Third/Sister Lovers -- are represented with album tracks, alternate takes, and demos. Pre- and post-Big Star recordings of principal songwriters Chris Bell and Alex Chilton are included, as well as assorted covers and a live set that finds Chilton, bassist Andy Hummel and drummer Jody Stephens -- following Bell's departure -- opening for Archie Bell & The Drells at Lafayette’s Music Room.
The roots of Big Star lie in the early careers of Chris Bell and Alex Chilton. Bell, a Memphis Anglophile began refining the band’s sound with Stephens, Hummel, and other Tennessee teens under various names like Icewater and Rock City, hanging and recording at Ardent Studious under the tutelage of John Frye, a man who would greatly shape Big Star’s trajectory. While Bell was learning the ins and outs of crafting albums, Chilton was already knee-deep in the music business. At 16 he was fronting The Box Tops, a pre-packaged soul combo that yielded the giant hit that Big Star never delivered, “The Letter.” Frustrated with a lack of input, Chilton left the group and spent some time busking around New York, toying with the idea of becoming a 12-string wielding folk singer.
Bell’s early experiments are represented on the new box set by “Psychedelic Stuff,” which finds the young musician toying with quaint psychedelia. Rock City’s “All I See Is You” and “The Preacher” showcases the band approaching the crystalline sheen of #1 Record. None of Chilton’s Box Tops songs are included, but given his animosity toward the experience (“Pretty scummy,” he remarked during a radio interview promoting Big Star’s second album), it seems fitting. “Every Day As We Grow Closer,” recorded during his time in New York, appears instead -- a bit cotton candy, but his gift for melody is unquestionable. In light of these songs, the alchemy of #1 Record becomes apparent. Big Star was already in existence when Bell asked Chilton to join, and #1 Record is clearly Bell’s record. Chilton’s contributions, however, can’t be understated. While the anthemic, Christian undertones of “The Ballad Of El Goodo” and “Try Again” exhibit Bell’s rounded, melodic sturdiness, Chilton’s lead on songs like “In the Street” demonstrate a wilder, looser Big Star, while his ballad, “Thirteen,” and his demo of Loudon Wainwright’s “Motel Blues” offer a complex mix of sentimentality and sexuality.
#1 Record should have been the band’s breakthrough. But shoddy distribution by Stax and lack of promotion ensured that, despite the ravings of rock writers (always the band's most affirming and useless allies), the record was stillborn. Dismayed by the commercial failure of the album, Bell left the band.
Keep An Eye on Sky includes a live set by the Chilton-led power trio, finding the group opening paradoxically for the aforementioned Archie Bell & The Drells. The crowd couldn’t care less, but the set is hot. Bell’s presence looms over the band, with Chilton and company performing two of his unreleased songs, the stellar “I Got Kinda Lost” and “There Was a Light,” as well as covers of songs by T.Rex, Todd Rundgren, and The Flying Burrito Brothers. The quality is impressive, with room mics yielding a fuller and more complex sound than previous soundboard recordings. That the audience seems uninterested in the band actually improves the recording, in typical Big Star fashion.
The set also features performances of songs from Radio City, which found Alex Chilton fronting the band as head songwriter. The record was even more brilliant that its precursor. In Chilton’s hands, Big Star became a sharper unit. Bell’s concepts are hardly discarded -- he even sat in on some early songwriting sessions -- though the extent of his contribution isn’t entirely clear. Tracks like “September Gurls,” “O My Soul,” and “Life is White” combine the melodious aspects of the band with more disjointed ideas; the wailing harmonica of “Life is White” borders on intrusive but achieves a greater good, and “She’s a Mover” rattles with nervous, soulful energy. The record was greeted with even more glowing reviews, but met the same fate as the band’s debut, disappearing off record store racks and fading into obscurity.
Third/Sister Lovers, represented on Keep An Eye On The Sky by album tracks and surprisingly interesting demos, found the band at the end of their creative rope. While Chilton would go farther off the deep end during his solo career (see the careening Like Flies on Sherbert), the record finds him swinging alternately between studious pop like “Jesus Christ,” a bafflingly sincere Christmas song, and the harrowing folk of “Holocaust.” Third/Sister Lovers perhaps makes the best case for Big Star’s continued influence over “alternative rock” and all its mutant strains. The record doesn’t achieve the solid statements of the band’s first albums, but instead lays out the template for a “difficult album,” one in which a band’s strengths are met by a willingness to challenge themselves. The record is hardly cohesive, and Keep An Eye On The Sky’s inclusion of Chilton’s takes on “Nature Boy” and “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” reveal an even more fractured mind state than the record proved -- an aggressively divergent take on classic pop. The music world didn’t seem to care about Big Star, and Chilton played like a man with nothing to loose.
Two of Bell’s post-Big Star songs are presented as well, the A- and B-side of his lone solo release, a single on Chris Stamey’s Car Records. Both tracks showcase a markedly different approach than Chilton’s ramshackle one. “You And Your Sister,” featuring back up vocals from Chilton, perfects the sweet folk pop of #1 Record, even one-upping “Thirteen” from that album. “I Am the Cosmos” follows, displaying Bell’s attention to craft; the song is perfect, with intricate guitar parts layering one epic theme -- a breakup jam delivered as existential crisis. The track demonstrates what Bell was capable of with full control. Sadly, a car accident robbed fans of any follow up until Rykodisc issued the posthumously released I Am the Cosmos, which combined the single with Bell’s other demo work. Rhino Handmade is reissuing the collection in a deluxe, two-disc format to accompany Keep An Eye On The Sky.
Peter Buck of R.E.M. states in the collection’s resplendent liner notes: “They were like this weird myth of America: These guys who did brilliant work, were ignored and disappeared. It probably would have been better for the myth if no one had ever seen those guys again.” Of course, we did see them again. Chilton and a reconfigured group, including John Auer and Kevin Stringfellow of The Posies, have done limited touring, and even issued a new record in 2005, In Space. It wasn’t all that great, despite containing a few killer cuts. Keep An Eye on the Sky ignores this record, and it’s for the best. The songs here represent more than just a band; they represent the myth, the sound of “beautiful losers,” as Buck describes them, making good on the promise their sound always presented.
Disc 1:
1. Chris Bell: "Psychedelic Stuff"
2. Icewater: "All I See Is You"
3. Alex Chilton: "Every Day as We Grow Closer" (Original Mix)
3. Rock City: "Try Again" (Early Version)
4. Rock City: "The Preacher"
5. Feel
6. The Ballad of El Goodo (Alternate Mix) *
7. In the Street
8. Thirteen (Alternate Mix) *
9. Don't Lie to Me
10. The India Song
11. When My Baby's Beside Me (Alternate Mix) *
12. My Life Is Right (Alternate Mix) *
13. Give Me Another Chance (Alternate Mix) *
14. Try Again
15. Chris Bell: "Gone With the Light" *
16. Watch the Sunrise
17. ST 100/6 (Alternate Mix) *
18. In the Street (Second Recorded Version)
19. Feel (Early Mix) *
20. The Ballad of El Goodo (Alternate Lyrics)
21. The India Song (Alternate Version) *
22. Country Morn
23. I Got Kinda Lost (Demo)
24. Motel Blues (Demo) *
Disc 2:
1. There Was a Light (Demo) *
2. Life Is White (Demo) *
3. What's Going Ahn (Demo) *
4. O My Soul
5. Life Is White
6. Way Out West (Alternate Mix) *
7. What's Going Ahn
8. You Get What You Deserve (Alternate Mix) *
9. Mod Lang (Alternate Mix)
10. Back of a Car (Alternate Mix) *
11. Daisy Glaze
12. She's A Mover
13. September Gurls
14. Morpha Too (Alternate Mix) *
15. I'm in Love With a Girl
16. O My Soul (Alternate Version) *
17. Back of a Car (Demo)
18. Daisy Glaze (Alternate Take) *
19. She's a Mover (Alternate Version)
20. Chris Bell: "I Am the Cosmos"
21. Chris Bell: "You and Your Sister"
22. Alex Chilton: "Blue Moon" (Demo) *
23. Alex Chilton: "Femme Fatale" (Demo) *
24. Alex Chilton: Thank You Friends" (Demo) *
25. Alex Chilton: "You Get What You Deserve" (Demo) *
Disc 3:
1. Alex Chilton: "Lovely Day (aka Stroke It Noel)" (Demo)
2. Alex Chilton: "Downs" (Demo)
3. Alex Chilton: "Nightime" (Demo) *
4. Alex Chilton: "Jesus Christ" (Demo) *
5. Alex Chilton: "Holocaust" (Demo) *
6. Alex Chilton: "Take Care" (Demo) *
7. Alex Chilton: "Big Black Car" (Alternate Demo) *
8. Manana *
9. Jesus Christ
10. Femme Fatale
11. O, Dana
12. Kizza Me
14. You Can't Have Me
15. Nightime
16. Dream Lover
17. Blue Moon
18. Take Care
19. Stroke It Noel
20. For You
21. Downs
22. Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On
23. Big Black Car
24. Holocaust
25. Kanga Roo
26. Thank You Friends
27. Till The End of the Day
28. Lovely Day *
29. Nature Boy
Disc 4 (Live at Lafayette's Music Room, Memphis, TN):
1. When My Baby's Beside Me *
2. My Life Is Right *
3. She's a Mover *
4. Way Out West *
5. The Ballad of El Goodo *
6. In the Street *
7. Back of a Car *
8. Thirteen *
9. The India Song *
10. Try Again *
11. Watch the Sunrise *
12. Don't Lie to Me *
13. Hot Burrito #2 *
14. I Got Kinda Lost *
15. Baby Strange *
16. Slut *
17. There Was a Light *
18. ST 100/6 *
19. Come On Now *
20. O My Soul *
* previously unreleased
