Lightnin' Hopkins (Everest)

My father gave me this record years ago when he was culling his own vinyl accumulation. It's a decent compilation on the esteemed Everest Records Archive of Folk & Jazz Music label, adorned with underwritten liner notes that give no indication where or when the recordings come from, as was the fashion back then. Nor does it give any more information about the identities of 'Brownie' and 'Sonny' who accompany Mr. Hopkins, though the internet reveals that they are Sonny Terry on harmonica and Brownie McGhee on the other acoustic guitar. The solo tracks are wonderfully rambling, the opening 'Big Black Cadillac Blues' really more of a spoken word cut than a song, and 'Brand New Car' containing some more extemporising vocals from Mr. Hopkins, also helped by the backing band and 'Big' Joe Williams also on vocals. Plenty of people have studied this music properly, both amateur and academic scholars, and I have little to add as said field is not my forte, except that  the rare times I throw this on are immensely satisfying. The joy in Hopkins' music is in the drift, the lurching from a well-sung line to a finger-picked run and back, with everyone loosely circling around a centre that likely adheres to the 12-bar (or whatever) format, without ever feeling rigid. The tracks with Terry and McGhee are the high points –– the version of 'I've Been Buked and Scorned' here is amazing, really something that must be heard to be believed –– and Terry's harmonica chops on 'Drinkin' in the Blues' are wonderfully feral. I might just get an extra special personal pleasure from this because it was from my father (who is still alive, this isn't an elegy), which is probably not so interesting for you to read about, but then again, why write these if I don't bring in my personal associations + reactions to it all? I think compilations like this can still be found for nothing, some of the last remaining cheap vinyl in an age where copies of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours sell for over 20€ (at least over here); there's no shame in the compilation, as so much great traditional and classical musics can be discovered though them. And I'll still take anything on vinyl over a certainly-available YouTube rip of dubious quality, which forces one to endure an advertisement burst before the song starts.

The Housemartins - 'London 0 Hull 4' (Go Discs)

When I lived in the UK (about a decade ago), Kingston-upon-Hull was the punchline of the entire country, a once-respectable Yorkshire city that had fallen into such decline that it had become synonymous with the idea of hopeless post-Thatcher devastation. One could apparently buy a flat in the city centre for as low as £20,000, and I often suggested that it should be colonised by weirdo artist types since it was affordable and (I assumed, probably incorrectly) somewhat lawless. I didn't know what I was talking about then, so Hull became some sort of symbol to me. I understand that things have picked up somewhat since then, making Hull if not exactly a hotspot of Northern culture certainly an option for people looking to set out and create their own universe. I'd be curious to visit now, as I've only ever driven through the city en route to Zeebrugge (by ferry) and it looked like an interesting place. Certainly it's produced a fair share of notable musicians over the years - Throbbing Gristle, Mick Ronson, Luke Poot, Aby Vulliamy - and of course the Housemartins. Now I suspect they're almost forgotten, just a footnote to the career of bassist Norman Cook aka Fatboy Slim aka a million other things, or the precursor to the Beautiful South, a band I never listened to but always imagined were pretty good. This is 1986, the year of the famous C-86 compilation which the Housemartins are not on, but could be. This is indie music with a folky, white soul edge, and the band was aggressively independent and aggressively socialist. The inner sleeve contains some handwritten words to inspire the masses, with 'Take Jesus - Take Marx - Take Hope' at the bottom, and these are the majority of the lyrical themes. 'Flag Day' is the most memorable song, an anti-patriotic ballad which stretches Paul Heaton's voice to its most emotive, drawn over it's slow pace. It's probably the classic cut from the album but it's not my favourite - I prefer the Housemartins when they're more uptempo, such as 'We're Not Deep' or 'Get Up Off Our Knees'; the latter is a stomping attack on the ruling class, with the necessary inspirational chorus that makes pop music great. The Housemartins lyrics are a little bit superficial, but thats not really a problem - it's probably one of the reasons this record ages so well. And maybe that's what 'We're Not Deep' is about, but the anger is cut with a healthy dose of sunshine (and some ba-ba-bas). London 0 Hull 4 (a great title, though illogical, since there is no football team just called 'London', and the score would be more accurately written as 'London 0 - 4 Hull' anyway, a nice away win for Hull City A.F.C, unless it just refers to the number of musicians from Hull vs the number from London) definitely sounds like it's from the 80s, but the decay of the North is felt more than explicitly discussed, and there's a driving optimism throughout. 'Happy Hour', which bears a bit of resemblance to 'Sheep' (and each start the two sides of the record), is another unforgettable pop song, though over the years I've enjoyed it (about 20 now) I never have been clear what it's about - a female immigrant bartender putting up with sexual harassment is my best guess. A cover of 'Lean on Me' (but not the Bill Withers tune, another one) and 'Flag Day' are the only two really slow songs, and thus where the soul aspect comes out the most, and these white Northerners are pretty convincing. The piano playing on 'Lean on Me' particularly exemplifies this, as it leans into the dramatic builds and Heaton's soaring voice reveals a depth not often found in late 80s British jangle-pop. There's not a dud on London 0 Hull 4 and I always think this surpassed their followup album, with the brilliant name The People Who Grinned Themselves To Death, though weirdly I've never found a cheap copy of that so we'll have to move past it.

Kevin Ayers - 'Odd Ditties' (Harvest)

These ditties aren't that odd, but they didn't make it to any previously released albums. Yeah, this is the singles and b-sides collection that you never wanted from Kevin Ayers, though the first side is good-to-great, being mostly singles and outtakes from the Joy of a Toy/Shooting at the Moon era. The French version of 'May I' is here, though I'm starting to get pretty sick of hearing that song. 'Gemini Child' and 'Butterfly Dance' are the highlights here, though the opening track 'Soon Soon Soon' (an abandoned single) makes a strong case with it's Nazz-like fuzz bass. Nowadays all these tracks would end up as CD bonus tracks so it's kind of weird hearing them together. Side two takes a dip in quality, beginning with a sappy faux-French duet with Bridget St. John and then presenting a slow, orchestrated version of 'Lady Rachel'. Then we dive into a shitty whirlwind of reggae-pop. There's a reason I don't own Bananamour; these songs, with Ayers singing in a fake Jamaican accent, are musical Kryptonite. The whimsical 'Don't Sing no more Sad Songs' picks things up slightly but then we get 'Take me to Tahiti' (which causes my response "and leave him there, please") and the closing single 'Caribbean Moon'. These things are always a bit hit-and-miss and here the hits are relatively clustered together, so I can just stick to side one if I ever actually listen to this again.

Robert Ashley - 'Automatic Writing' (Lovely Music)

Listening to this record essentially twice in a row (I mean, I slept a night in-between) is a bit like subjecting yourself to sleep deprivation. The mumbling and groans here may have actually been recorded while Ashley was sleeping, and the synth tones in the background (not to mention the distant rhythm as described on Elbowed Cinderblocks) give it a dream house quality. I didn't say anything about the cover art last time, which I also think is brilliant. Because it sounds like your neighbor is having a party, I always associated this record with casual living - beaches, button-down short-sleeve shirts that are open a few buttons, ya know. Besides my obvious LP bias this wins out over the CD, DESPITE having to be flipped, because it's presented as one complete work, without the weird rape explorations of the CD bonus tracks. Plus you get a 27-minute LP side without any apparent compromise of sound quality (I mean, the whole record is low volume to begin with). And like great ambient records, or Rafael Toral's Wave Field, this is amazing at a low volume yet if you crank it up there's more goodies inside. And to be honest, when Ashley and Mimi Johnson shut up and just the synth intervals take over, it kinda reminds me a bit of Talk Talk's Spirit of Eden, specifically the parts where the clouds part and the voice of God rings down. Except here it's the lack of voice that make things so holy. Not that I'm reading anything particularly spiritual or liturgical into this beast.

Amon Düül II - 'Phallus Dei' (Sunset)

The more technically skilled side of the Amon Düül collective made this first album in 1969 and started a whole new strain of German rock music that is still influencing kids today. The first side is surprisingly conventional rock, though of the very progressive variety, if progressive means lots of chord changes, modal riffs, and polyrhythms. Side two is the 20 minute title track - which is a pretty great title, if you sprechen sie bit of Deutsch - and it starts off in a very progressive way, if progressive means dark synthetic hellbeast screaming drone vortex. It falls into place though with the ragin' riffs and rhythm shifts, before taking on a weird neo-classical/folk content. Maybe I just get all tingly whenever I hear a violin being played like that but I think they were really looking at Grosse Bretagne. When you can feel the fire ticking it's most effective, but I keep thinking ahead to Yeti (which sadly won't be reviewed here, as we don't have a copy) and the gnarly wizard cookout that was to follow. I'm pretty sure I saw a Kurt Kren film one that had this album as the soundtrack, though it looked more like the proper German cover than this disappointing British value series cover. Interesting though: the back cover touts some of the other records in the series that may be of interest to Amon Düül fans, such as Shirley Bassey and Del Shannon.

Agitation Free - 'Malesch' (IRI)

Source: Ross, 22 May 2002, about $5.

This is the sound of six hairy Germans holed in a Berlin recording studio, conveying Orientalist sounds of psychedelic excess with maximum shimmer. Notes bend and bongos pulse but it holds to a center, while guitar tentacles merge with synth butter to make one of the best records of the genre. The cover art and the samples of the Middle Eastern street market really help to set the vibe of this album, but the melting organ swells and distant crying voices also drench this in desert sun. I wonder if this was actually recorded while Berlin was covered in snow. When the groove sets in these dudes don't let the mellow buzz their harsh; the drones are deep and the guitars continue to pierce. Maybe it's just my French pressing but the recording is a bit dull - I want the sounds to leap out and grab me but everything sounds slightly murky, like it's under a thick cloud. Maybe it's just the pot smoke.

10cc - 'The Original Soundtrack' (Mercury)

Source: can't remember for sure, but I think I got it off Ross for a couple of bucks on 24 Aug 2003.

Music for people who have funny, expensive lamps that they bought with passion masquerading as a strong sense of irony. It opens with a three part suite about Paris, stroking every stereotype Americans might have of it (but these guys are limeys!), with the most genuis bits being the vageuly-'Propaganda' choral harmonies. The radio hit is here but it's like your radio is wearing a pair of Ray-Bans that have been painted over with that fake stone-finish paint. When they turn on the amps it's almost Blue Öyster Cult, except if they let their high school band teacher join the band. 'Another fish head in the dustbin' is a great opening lyric for any record's side two. Who doesn't love the crunching repetition of ringing piano chords? And who doesn't love a slathering of Altrincham soul? The autoharp jam at the end of 'Flying Junk' is just too, too good. Also, great gatefold though I find the cover art hard to actually look at beyond the moired shot of the band angled across the inner crease. 'That's the way the croissant crumbles, after all.'