Leadbelly (Archive of Folk Music)

There's something 'problematic' about Leadbelly, right? I mean, he did kill a guy, and John Lomax basically turned him into a star and got his sentence commuted (or something). Or was the relationship between Lomax and Leadbelly what was problematic - Lomax took all the cash, exploiting him, or something like that? I definitely read something somewhere about this being problematic once, but I prefer to write these posts just from my memory instead of actually looking up the facts, or the prevailing opinions in this case, so I'll just assume that somewhere in this story is some controversy. None of which affects my enjoyment of listening to it. This anthology was released about two decades after his death and there isn't any info about how its culled. Most of these recordings sound pretty 'field', even when they are clearly in rooms, almost like he's been recording in the prison cell. My copy of this is filthy and beat to hell, so it's perfect, like a 78rpm only at 33 (and that's what these are sourced from, 78s, I assume). This is the stereo edition, so audiophiles will probably grumble, but they wouldn't enjoy a record as battered as this anyway; beyond the dirt and scratches on the vinyl, the cover has some water damage. I think I got this from my father, or maybe a garage sale. So, the music – I daresay that Leadbelly might be a bit underrated, actually. For while he's been established and canonised plenty, in recent times he doesn't seem to get talked about as much as other folk/blues guitarists from the 20s and 30s, at least not in the texts that turned me onto this music in zines and online publications in the early 00s when the indie/experimental kids like me all went searching for some roots. His guitar style, while not the most dazzling in terms of fingerpicking complexity, is really rapid, to the point of being frantic, and it's usually a 12-string so it sounds extra crazed. 'Green Corn' and 'The Gallis Pole' have some zigzag chording that's really propulsive, driving his manic yelps. Vocally, Leadbelly sounds more earnest than mysterious, and there's a spirit of fun in the more fast songs, like 'Looky Looky Yonder Black Betty'. Opening cut 'The Bourgeois Blues' drops a few n-bombs and lays down a socioeconomic commentary that's still powerful, and a bold choice to open this collection. No doubt his recordings have been packaged and repackaged numerous times and this is far from being representative, but something about the weariness of the beat-up record itself (and the water damage on the cover, even) makes this feel like the right (correct) way to listen.

Philip Glass - 'Powaqqatsi' (Elektra/Nonesuch)

Whoa, Powaqqatsi is pretty fucking awesome! I didn't remember enjoying this so much as it's a far more upbeat beast than Koyaanisqatsi, as I guess the film probably is too. (I know I saw it too, years ago, and it's more of the same time-lapse stuff meant to indict the Western world's behaviour). This is another record that keeps inspiring me to jack up the volume knob on the ol' Luxman, all the way to 12 O'clock (It's rarely ever past 10, normally) and it's the percussion that makes me keep wanting more and more and more. Powaqqatsi is mostly instrumental until we're about 75% of the way through, though in addition to the instrumentation (again, a mix of synths and instruments that sound like synths), there are some field recordings (possibly from the making of the film) mixed in, and some children's voices that are sort of creepy. Side one's 'Anthem' is split into three parts, intercut with some shorter tracks which take us around the world (as the whole album and film itself manages to do - 'Train to Sao Paulo', 'From Egypt', 'New Cities in Ancient Lands'). But Glass's compositions very delicately walk the line between ethno-musical forgeries and a minimalist composer's vision; you can maybe pick out hints of 'ethnic' melodies in these tracks, but that's pretty much a reach. It all feels united, with pounding drums (the presence of which are the major difference between this and the first soundtrack) and bright brass instruments driving the middle of the soundstage. 'Anthem' is the centrepiece, reminding me of some feeling I've only found in really random bits of music (some Vietnamese pop music, Chris McGregor's Brotherhood of Breath, and I guess Arnold Dreyblatt as the closest composer influence though there's a feel of a harder-edge Lou Harrison to this music too); it has a pulse, a heartbeat, that is echoed in both the body and the head. See, Dad, minimalism is more than just an intellectual exercise! I suppose the pulsebeat is supposed to echo the relentless assault of modernity on traditional ways of being, or maybe that's just a childish interpretation - either way, it makes this sound so good. The record is well-sequenced (perhaps just matching the film, though the film would be longer than this and from what I remember it's all music throughout); the driving pieces are cut with the more restrained ones, though even 'The Unutterable', the first part of which is probably the record's most mellow point, has an unsyncopated pulse at its centre. More romantic elements enter - the string melody that opens 'Mosque and Temple' is wet and emotional, a million light years from the idea that many people have of Philip Glass as a cold and overly intellectual sound-lord. The 'New Cities' trilogy (which blend into each other seamlessly) also use flutes and some other higher wind instruments over all the synths, making a really accessibly sweet sound mix, but not one that feels manipulative or false. 'CAUGHT!' is the one for the mix tape, a fast-paced escalating maelstrom, just before the vocal-driven ('From Egypt'); but on either side of it, Foday Musa Suso plays guest kora and balafon on two very short tracks named after him, and it feels like a really short interlude that really should have been a lot longer. The track in the middle has an amazing use of a flutter echo/delay behind the Egyptian vocalist; it's one I completely forgot about and easy to overlook after all the dense, driving instrumentation. The only real disappointment is the titular closing track, which feels obligated to chant the title in a deep scary voice just like in Koyaanisqatsi; here, it just feels like an empty gesture, a repetition of an idea that doesn't work so well in this one. But the album, overall, is a zillion times better than I remembered it and maybe I'll even give the film another go.

Dukes of Stratosphear - '25 O'Clock' (Virgin)

What do we say about the Dukes of Stratosphear? Sure, it's a joke - this was released on April Fools Day 1985 and is so over-the-top in its Nuggets-style psych imagery that feels somewhere in-between parody and pastiche. My issue is that I actually like the Dukes of Stratospear far better than XTC, so the joke has backfired. Or not, cause maybe it wasn't really a joke. 25 O'Clock does its best to not be serious, but it's such a perfect mishmash of the Electric Prunes, Chocolate Watchband, 'Paint It Black' and all these other legendary antecedents that its impossible to not enjoy it. The production mostly apes it's influences too though there are studio tricks (most notably in 'Bike Ride To the Moon') that reveal it's provenance. But that's okay, because everyone was in on the joke - this is all wink,wink, nod, nod. This makes me question my appreciation for this though - about the ingenuity of the music - but then 'I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night' isn't necessarily a deep, moving introspective song either.