Hotlegs ‎– 'You Didn't Like It Because You Didn't Think Of It' (Philips)

I think it was 10cc we started this whole thing with, way back in 2008, but Hotlegs is where 10cc started and I've always loved this collection, in whichever form it might be packaged. I'm not completely clear on the recording lineage, and if this is everything recorded under the Hotlegs name or these are alternate versions or whatnot. I know the proper album release had the amazing title Hotlegs Thinks School Stinks and, come to think of it, Hotlegs is an amazing band name, but so was Frabjoy and the Runcible Spoon and they never really made it out of the gates. You can totally hear the early genius of these guys here, and just because they can master pop-rock production and songwriting with heavy traces of irony doesn't make them a novelty act. I mean, sure, 'Neanderthal Man' is the classic example of the British one-hit wonder generated by a studio team, but 'Fly Away' actually touches me and 'How Many Times' was the followup single that should have even been a bigger hit. I'm not a diehard Godley/Creme fan (and let's not discount Stewart who was also equal partners here and in 10cc) but I know spatterings of their career and there's so much joy here, as in How Dare You, as in L. Some of the songs here are less memorable - not exactly throwaway, but more like genre romps with a weird twist ('The Loser' and 'Desperate Dan' for example) – and of course it's a long way from the experimentation that Godley and Creme specifically would get into later (I've never braved Consequences but maybe I should try it). I'm a sucker for power pop made by weird nerdy white guys (which I guess is all power pop) and Hotlegs has it in spades. Hotlegs, even more than 10cc, loved the thick acoustic guitar strum with soaring vocals overtop, and the three-song 'Suite F.A.' which closes this record makes great use of that technique. This is not about the English Football Association (sadly) but some epic quest story of someone going off somewhere and then returning. It's all done vaguely enough that you could read anything into it, so maybe we could imagine it to be about the football FA if we think it's about a young centre-half off to get his first cap for his country and then going back to play for his second division side after. Oh, I'll even defend 'Neanderthal Man', because you can hear how it was made by fucking around in a studio one night with a leftover drum beat; it's the 'Rock and Roll (part 2)' of its day but I don't feel icky hearing it because it wasn't made by padeophiles (as far as I know). Great, great stuff; proof one can indulge in irony without the resulting product being an empty shell of phoniness, without being a joke. 

Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band - 'Doc at the Radar Station' (Virgin)

Man, I love Doc at the Radar Station. It's probably my third overall favorite Beefheart album. And who would have thunkit from the (lovely, yet limp) coverart and necktie-adorned band photograph? Sure, Shiny Beast was the comeback album but this is the true comeback. The record explodes with 'Hot Head' and there's the crunch and menace that was missing for most of the 70's -- this is 1980, too, not a year particularly remembered for fucked up music. As hinted at in the last post, John French is here on slide guitar and maybe he's just what the missing element was before. 'Run Paint Run Run' always makes me think of the VU's 'Run Run Run'; the trombone finally fits here. And best of all is the voice - it ain't what it was in '69, sure, but it sounds a lot better than the Spotlight Kid era crooning. In 'Ashtray Heart' you can literally hear him turn it on, like stepping on a BigMuff pedal for the larynx. There's so much to love here. 'Dirty Blue Gene' is wonderfully bonkers; it's like a swirling cloud of office supplies over ice. French cuts through this all like an inbred Eddie Van Halen. 'Sue Egypt' is a fairly free love poem over a haphazardly strummed cacophany. 'I think of the dust on the chair / and under her eyes' and reading that line doesn't even hint at the true beauty of this piece. Not to mention this song is presumably where the Bad Vugum label got their name. 'Flavor Bud Living' is one of the best guitar riffs I've heard out of all these records - it bubbles and burns, perhaps due to Gary Lucas' guest guitar playing. And 'Making Love to A Vampire With a Monkey on my Knee', despite its title, is all plunderous lurching and f-bombs; not at all the novelty song you'd fear. Dark sexuality rages but maybe it's just the neckties. A classic for sure.

Captain Beefheart - 'The Spotlight Kid' (Reprise)

I'm not really a fan of this album though I'm sure if I listened to it a million times I would probably find something to love. It's a stab at the commercial moon, with slower more 4/4 songs and generally less chaos. 'I'm Gonna Booglarize You Baby' opens it up and it's like the Captain trying to be Barry White or something. I like the low brassy vibrations when he sings deep but the jerkoff rhythm feels a bit too , I dunno, careful? A song like 'Blabber and Smoke' actually misuses the marimba, in my opinion, and Van Vliet sounds like he's singing from the end of a weird tunnel. The dark guitar riffs and slightly too clever and the plodding rhythm section actually sounds slick. There's elements to enjoy -- 'Click Clack' and 'Grow Fins' are a demented interlude in the middle of side 2, and even the more accessible songs are still charming if you like the whole general Captain Beefheart thing. A few of the brighter riffs, such as in 'Alice in Blunderland', are pleasing in the same way that I don't mind hearing a band like Deerhoof, yet a far cry from the self-swallowing rhythmic monster I know this band is capable of. And the solos are positively alien to the Beefheart aesthetic, if you ask me -- this is not a 'jam band'. It's funny how Unconditionally Guaranteed and Bluejeans and Moonbeams are completely reviled by everyone, including Beefheart himself, while The Spotlight Kid is still considered part of the canon. I've only heard Unconditionally once and barely remember it, but I don't think it was all that much more 'inside' than this one. Not that commercialism in itself is a negative thing - but after the massive highs of Decals and Trout Mask it's hard not to be disappointed. The cover says everything though, and I wonder if this had some demented weird artwork instead, then I might enjoy it more.

Air - 'Open Air Suit' (Novus)

Source: Ross, 22 August 2002.

Another group of AACM-related records that fall into the 'A's, Air is Henry Threadgill, Fred Hopkins and Steve McCall, a stripped down trio (and not the French artistes that found their fame 20 years later). Hiding behind the erotic animal stylings of the front cover, Air attempt a Cobra-style game piece here, something based around a deck of playing cards. Four of the five pieces that emerged are presented here; gotta love the wordplay between 'suit' and 'suite' ... I'm not so clear on the rules but it's a surprising listen cause McCall is doing his best Drumbo impersonation. Maybe this is the 'open' feeling hinted at in the title and liner notes- lots of space, where Threadgill and Hopkins stab at each other and dabble in melodic themes. Henry switches to the flute for a bit at the end; it's more Herbie Mann than Aqualung but I'm cool with that. I generally like the Threadman though this showcases his improvisational abilities more than this writing; when paired with McCall though, there's always a strong connection to groove on.