Blue Öyster Cult (Columbia)

I love staring into the three point perspective of this album cover. The way everything tapers into the fake occult symbol, recalling question mark, crucifix and swastika - the three most essential symbols of humanity right? And the strangely repetitive geometric architecture, mirrored on the back by a set of railroad tracks. If I were Greil Marcus or some other great pontificator I could probably draw allusions to 'Mystery Train' or the underground railroad or something, but really I just see this as motion. This is a band with an idea, with direction, and yet there's something vaguely sinister about it all. Opening up your debut album with a song about Altamont certainly makes it clear which of rock's spiritual forces you intend to draw on; what I also think BOC's whole shtick suggests (at least early on) is some sort of fascistic undertone to rock and roll. After all, something can light 'Cities on Flame' and you can burn down the Reichstag too. Or maybe that's just what I think when I see umlauts. If you actually pronounce the Ö, well, it sounds fucking stupid so that was obviously mean to look cool, but not sound cool. The music, well, it's awesome riffage from start to finish, with a few weird stylistic bumps that shows these guys haven't found their footing yet. 'Redeemed' has an edge of Vegas crooner to it, and 'She's as Beautiful as a Foot', while great, feels more akin to Christian cult-rock, the type that's been the reissue rage lately. Thank Richard Meltzer for that. This is a somewhat manufactured band though, and the vaguely fascistic imagery I think also suggests a less individualist approach to rock music than the classic big names of the Stones, the Who, etc. None of these guys ever becamse a household name, right? Even after they landed a few hit songs years down the road, knowing the name of Joe Bouchard is more likely to win you a pub quiz than a spot in typical 'rock' conversation. Eric Bloom sings on almost every song with this weird raspy echo behind his voice, and the guitars all have a pretty similar crunch at least until side 2. Keyboards are there, ocasionally in a Doorsy way ('Before the Kiss, a Redcap') but usually felt not heard. And the album in general feels like an album. This is AOR, after all, a term that probably didn't exist yet by this point but here's a record to lead you to it. I remembered 'Cities on Flame with Rock and Roll' being a much better song than it actually is, but I totally forgot about the greatness of 'Workshop of the Telescopes'. True story - when I was really young, like 12, there was something that made me uncomfortable about the idea of this band and I hoped I would never actually hear them. Years later I found the first three albums all at once and I've never regretted that purchase, not even once. Rock music plus theatrics can walk a thin line but these guys are all hints and suggestions, and they deliver the goods as a band too. It's weird how they are sorta manufactured -- what's the 00s equivalent, the Strokes?

Captan Beefheart and His Magic Band - 'Trout Mask Replica' (Reprise)

It feels like the Underbite has hit on a bunch of classic/infallible/etc. albums lately but looking back it's really just this and Pet Sounds. But I should stick to my policy of trying to actually say something new, worthwhile and (I guess) personal about these rather than repeating clichés and foregone conclusions. So what can I actually draw from listening to this, for the millionth time? The words flow by like a river, albeit one very familiar; pause button edit techniques recall Gyson but i think of Anton Bruhin dancing with Charles Olson. I used to listen to this and be amazed at the logical patterns that emerge, for example the ending rodeo of 'Pachuco Cadaver'. Now I just try to feel it - it's all about Drumbo for me tonight. The Captain may have been pissed off at John French (leaving him off the credits) but at least he was smart enough to keep him prominent in the mix. The date printed on the back of this cover reveals this to be a late 70's reissue, and it's in great shape so I can hear every wispy cymbal flick and thud-thud. About midway through you need a break, which is why I can't imagine listening to this on CD. It's not the most demanding record ever made - I am listening to it quite casually - but it's such a complete vision that it feels like one complete symphony in 28 movements. Yeah yeah yeah, this'll get the "changed music forever" tag of course, but what's remarkable is listening in sequence cause I just did Strictly Personal and Mirror Man - even though those are 'transitional' works, blending between the edgy 4/4 stomp of Safe as Milk and more open, damaged compositions -- it's still a giant leap forward from that stuff to Trout Mask Replica. It helps that everything gel'd into a summit of personal expression and power - not just the utterly demented approach to rock songwriting, but the artwork and lyrics have stepped it up a few notches. 'Martian blues' is what they always call this stuff right? Sure, you can hear the remnants of that tradition especially in stuff like 'China Pig' but really, entire genres of music and thousands of musicians have still never progressed past this album. And no one has ever really equaled it as an accomplishment either. The raw sexuality of Beefheart's lyrics has always seemed like the perfect fit for music at least somewhat based in the blues - and it's pretty flagrant here, like 'My Human Gets Me Blues' and 'Big Joan'. The soprano sax that spits out all over this album makes sense too - I mean, that's the load he's shooting right? Also, 'Veterans Day Poppy', with it's awesome half-time bridge and Vietnam-era lyrics is a hell of a closer, and one of the most underrated Beefheart songs in general. Raw, primitive, insert whatever adjectives you usually read here -- it's all true, and it's maybe one of the pieces missing from earlier records. The story that's emerged from Drumbo and the others, about how this record was created through a brutal cult-like regiment, should make the bleeding hearts among us reevaluate Trout Mask's greatness, but I don't really care. Does anyone believe something this intense could be created through normal conditions? I like how certain songs reveal more traditional music characteristics, for example 'She's Too Much For My Mirror' has chord changes that remind me of Steely Dan or something. This is probably not the point, but rather a bad habit that I gravitate towards when trying to re-evaluate the very familiar.