Kukerpillid (Мелодия)

I lived a few years in Estonia which coincided with the decline of my obsession for hunting down weird records. So originally I may have expected to accumulate a crateful of oddities, but sadly, I never really came across much and my leisure pursuits shifted to other matters such as drinking and complaining. The Soviet Melodia imprint was essentially the only record label, being state-run and releasing thousands of records (all on flimsy vinyl with poor sleeve printing), and the secondhand shops were full of piles of these records. I think early on I bought a few random ones based on the covers, being unable to read Cyrllic myself, and batted 0.000 on the batch. All I really remember is a bunch of classical 'pops' arrangements, sometimes of Beatles songs if I was lucky, or else just forgettable vocal music. Now, I know there's a whole subculture devoted to hunting down the gems and gems there sure are - I heard a DJ once in Helsinki who spinned exclusively Soviet vinyl and it was astounding, all weird surf-rock sci-fi music and otherwise unclassifiable genre distortions. But you know, you gotta dig through a pile of dogshit to find a few kernels of corn, or whatever the expression is, and I just didn't (and still don't) have the wherewithal for such pastimes. Somehow this Kukerpillid LP stayed in my accumulation, though listening now I'm not sure why. This is a record of rave-up Estonian village folk/country music, sung by a group of moustachioed men in the early 80s and if you like these sounds then there's a lot to love, as there's 21 songs here. I do actually enjoy this sound, a real hoedown that reminds me of American country-and-western with even a few dixieland jazz elements sprinkled in. The singing is kinda funny, even if you know the language, being hearty men singing in unison, plus, those moustaches. The bass is handled by what sounds like a tuba, though the blurry photos on the back cover show no such instrument - there's also accordion, banjo and a decent violin and simple 1-2-1-2 drumming on what sounds like tin cans. These guys can play - the songs are fast and tight, and there's occasionally sea-shanty vocals ('Joogilaul' which is translated into 'Drink-Hail' and sounds like it) that make it feel even more like an outtake from a film. A few original tunes are sprinkled throughout, most composed by Toomas Kõrvitz, who I suspect is the band leader. They follow from the traditional template, but some ('Oh Roosi, Roosi' for example) have some rock residue, like even electric guitar solos. The manufacture of 'tradition' is a topic for critical anthropologists and not for me, but I have seen how identity has been made particularly in traditionally occupied cultures (Scotland, Estonia and Finland). I'm mildly curious as to how much the members of Kukerpillid invented the traditions here, though of course that's a Pandora's box I shouldn't open. But the Soviet Union is the elephant in the village barn here, and its presence is strongly felt (by me, at least) far beyond the state-owned pressing plant that made this.

Fairport Convention - 'Liege & Lief' (Island)

Most would consider this their best album, and it's hard to argue with the "Don't fuck with me" stomp of 'Matty Groves' or 'Tam Lin'. My personal favourite is Unhalfbricking, not just for its awesome title but also for it's brilliant Dylan covers and the epic 'A Sailor's Life'. Alas, I've never found an affordable vinyl copy so we have to skip on to this fourth album, which as I already said, is pretty hard to fuck with. While Unhalfbricking might have better songs, this has the strongest performances. According to the Internet, this was released in December 1969, making three full albums in one calendar year, and I'd say their three finest, certainly of the Thompson era (which is really all I know). This is truly Fairport showing their growth as a "band"; the grungy stomp of 'Matty Groves' is evidence of a solid rock ensemble that has developed over a few albums, the kind that Carducci would write about as a tight technical unit. There's nothing fey or wimpy about the folk influence; instead it shows a remarkable dedication to the presence of each musician, the rhythmic motion pulling each piece in a definite direction and letting Denny's voice soar. The repetitive palm-muting on 'The Deserter' achieves a similar transcendence. Fast-forward to this blog years in the future, when we get to solo Thompson albums and I'm sure I'll still be raving about how 'Calvary Cross' is as heavy as the best Black Sabbath material then. The years may pass, but my diatribes never change. Anyway, the traditional, Swarbrick-driven material like side two's medley maintains the same hard-rock edge, and if there was any singer here besides Denny, she'd probably be left in the dust. This is six people playing rock music, not five plus a singer, and the way she coasts over the crests of 'Tam Lin''s waves is masterful, allowing the in-between verse sections to meander with guitar explorations but holding everything central. This could make a believer out of anyone who thinks they don't like folk-influenced stuff, and over the years this continues to sound fresh and alive, not like a clichéd dinosaur.

The Band (Capitol)

History has been kind to the second Band album, giving it one of those nicknames ('the Brown album') that few other records are able to pull off. But what's changed? They're a bit further away from Dylan, with Robbie Robertson taking a much more domineering role (with a writing credit on every song) and the roots-rock sound taking more of a hold. 'The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down' attempts to recaputre the magic (and accessibility) of 'The Weight' and it exceeds it, in my opinion. But the genre stompers like 'Rag Mama Rag' don't do much for me. Again, my copy of this is beat to shit, but that's the way it should be listened to, even if there's an inpenetrable skip during the delicate 'Whispering Pines'. Underneath all the crackles I can hear that the production is first-rate, which is actually one of my favorite aspects of this record. The way the piano resonantes on 'Dixie' and the acoustic guitar creeps out of the mix is perfect - there's a lot of separation, but it still feels natural and organic. I guess the funky 'Up On Cripple Creek' beat out Neil's by at least a year; I like to think of two rafts meeting midway. I like Neil's tune better but this one has porn bass and jaw's harp, so. This is pretty affected music, meaning that these guys had a schtick which you can see in every aspect - the songwriting, the artwork, the clothing they're wearing in the photo, and even the way they sing stuff like 'Jemima Surrender'. And I'm okay with some old-timey throwback vibes - I mean that's why they call this "roots" rock, right? They proved in the basement that they've properly digested the Anthology and I guess I can hear some of Clarence 'Tom' Ashley in 'Jawbone', if I listen hard enough. I suspect this is generally regarded as their best work because it's so much more confident than Big Pink, but I don't hear as much yearning and pain. I think they're trying, but they aren't squeezing out the notes with as much gravitas. Remember, I was raised on slow off-kilter songs and stuff like Palace Brothers, so a song like 'Rockin' Chair' (even though it's pretty awesome) still sounds solid and confident to me. Overall it's admirable that this came out in 1969 but couldn't sound further away from the psychedelic sixties. Maybe this is the American version of The Village Green Preservation Society, but again, these guys are mostly Canadian. How can I ever work out all of these contradictions?!

Art Ensemble of Chicago - 'Les Stances a Sophie' (Nessa)

This seems to be one of the more popular Art Ensemble of Chicago records, though I doubt that anyone has seen the film of which it's the soundtrack to. There's a good reason for this enduring popularity of this record - it fucking slays, and opens with 'Theme de Yoyo', a rolling fun jam with Fontella Bass's playful lyrics. It's certainly odd hearing these guys laying down a straight pop song - even straighter than the Brigitte Fontaine material - but it's full of soul and energy, and it's bouncyness seems to suit the band well. This is the first time we get Don Moye in the band, though he hasn't really hit his stride -- he is simply the drummer here, not yet ready to put on the facepaint himself. But really, this is the least facepainty AE of C record out there. The slow, neoclassical steps taken in the middle of this record have a cool, modal detachment that suggests they were watching a lot of Nouvelle Vague films during their stay; not having seen 'Les Stances a Sophie', I can't be sure, but I imagine these slow, spaced reeds paint a perfect backdrop to whatever the film is about. We get variations on a theme by Claudio Monteverdi split across the middle of the album and maybe that's the true highlight of this record for me. Over all these albums I've heard the Ensemble play raucous, genteel, loose and tight, but these Monteverdi cadences are a beuteous ramification of Western tradition streaming through the masks. Fontella Bass comes back at the end and this time they rev up the engine, letting her rip too. It resembles those early Gunter Hampel sides at times though with something, I dunno, blacker, about it all. If Putney sed the Borman 6 girl's a-gotta have soul you'll find it here, but with a stack of Ishmael Reed novels too.

Art Ensemble of Chicago - 'Certain Blacks' (Inner City)

This used to occupy the spot of "least favorite Art Ensemble record worth keeping", for I perceived it as only pseudo-AEoC. The lineup contains Chicago Beau, Julio Finn, and William A. Howell, and none of the three compositions are by the "actual", "real" Art Ensemble members. This record is copyrighted 1976 and I saw this as the beginning of their downfall, but I couldn't deny some pretty killer grooves here so I kept it in the collection. Now I read that it was actually recorded in 1970, in Paris (which is not owned up to on the sleeve) so now it's recontextualised - some Chicago friends came over to visit, perhaps, and they had a recording session where they decided to let loose a bit. The visitors led things, and they decided to rock out with their cock(s) out, for once, right? And now if I think of this as fun and stop worrying about it being a great artistic statement against the already mighty pantheon of Art Ensemble releases, I can really enjoy it. The first side is "Certain Blacks" with a goofball chant that comes and goes around a total American-style loft jam. There is a more gutbucket approach here - maybe it's Finn's harmonica but it just feels ballsy and bluesy, melodic and dissonant at the same time. Howell's drumming is propulsive if not particularly distinct and it keeps things going. I guess if I was more of a student of the reeds I could hear the tonal aspects that identify the Art Ensemble's signature, but it all gets lost a bit through the new veil of, gasp, accessibility. Side two is even more "inside" - it opens with "One For Jarman", a clean, open descension around Beau's piano riff. It recalls some of the bouncier bits of side 2 of Chris McGregor's Brotherhood of Breath record, though with somewhat more translucent intervals. The last piece, a Sonny Boy Williamson jam, is like a bar room brawl magnified by a muddy trench, and it ends with the most bombastic, direct groove ever released under the Art Ensemble moniker. (Well, at least out of what I've heard). It's cool to embrace your roots and around the time this record was actually released I think they were starting to head in that direction.

Air - '80º Below '82' (Antilles)

Source: Ross, in August 2002.

A new decade, a new label, and finally the Gauntlet of Air records comes to an end here at Dislocated Underbite Spinal Alphabetised Encourager Templates. Maybe this is a mark of my musical immaturity but I look at the 1980s as the Zyklon B of artistic jazz. It's kinda sad to hear the bug creeping into even fine purveyors of musical exploration such as Messrs. Threadgill, Hopkins and McCall but it's there. I don't know what's happened in the three years since Lore but we got them opening with another Jelly Roll Morton piece, smashing through it in an absolutely dull fashion. Things pick up a bit on the Threadgill originals but there's just a little bit too much sheen on things for my tastes. I keep this in on the shelves for the last piece, 'Do Tell', a circular jam with the bass thumping it along that reminds me a bit of Can or that one Buzzcocks jam. Its a bit lunkheaded (given the high pedigree of these musicians) and maybe that's why I love it. I think this album is some sort of conceptual work about Chicago freezing into stasis (at least from what I can tell by the cryptic poetry scrawl at the bottom). You always have to like a record that uses the front cover image on the back, only in negative.

Air - 'Air Lore' (Arista Novus)

Source: Ross. Honestly, I didn't get all of my records from one source, just a lot of the A's.

Can you hear the 80s on the horizon? For their sixth album, these innovators decided to 'explore not only the roots of American black music, but their roots as well', conincidentally making a very commercial record of standards just before the dawn of an era when avant-garde jazz went into remission. Well, Roots was big in '78, I guess. I don't mean to knock the effort - you can't deny that a musician might want to convey soul and feeling and not just write obtuse weird shit their whole career - but there's something a bit heartless in the Scott Joplin pieces here. They take on Jelly Roll Morton with a bit more life, though it's still missing something. Or maybe my ears are slightly occluded by the cover art, which is actually pretty incredible and maybe the best cover yet in this project. It's not the sepiatone aspect that I love the most, nor is is the suits, shoes, or glasses of white wine. It's the plants - and it's a shame the florist isn't credited on the back (since the shoe outfitter and stylist were) because I've love to spruce up the piano at Vinyl Underbite HQ with a similar species, but I don't know who to call. Anyway, side 2 is more Jelly Roll and then a Threadgill composition right in the middle that's all flute and bowed bass and McCall stepping lightly on clouds, and then it's more Joplin to close out on a high, or at least upbeat, note. Weird to kill the momentum with the Threadgill jam and it's also weird to spoil the conceptual purity of your "back to the roots" record but, hey, that's how the Air blows.