KISS - DESTROYER @ 45

 

Released on March 15th, 1976, KISS Destroyer is celebrating 45 years on the shelves. It was the first LP I bought with my own money by my own choice. Well, technically it was the second. The first was More More More by the Andrea True Connection, but I took that back to Zellers the next day for an exchange. Its booming disco kick drum couldn’t track on my shit-box of a record player and I hadn’t discovered the ol’ “tape a penny to the tone arm” trick yet, so I ended up with the KISS record instead.

After the breakout success of KISS Alive, the band were desperate to get it together to do a studio album that could properly capture the intensity of the band. Their previous three attempts had only middling sales, belying their impact as a live band. They simply sounded flat and listless and lacked the dynamics and spectacle they were getting across on stage. To help them with this objective, the band’s label, Casablanca, brought in Bob Ezrin, who’d had major success working with Alice Cooper. Ezrin brought along the same sense of discipline he’d used to whip the Cooper band into shape and applied it to KISS, pushing them with near militant determination to get their shit together as musicians. He even insisted on them taking lessons in music theory to help their song writing chops. He flat-out rejected most of the demos they originally brought to the table and even took to sporting a coach’s whistle he’d blow whenever he wanted to rally the band for recording sessions & rehearsals.

In addition to instilling a more rigid work ethic in the band, he brought a lot of color to their sound in the form of elaborate production techniques and embellishments, which included adding things like strings, choirs, sound FX and even brought his own kids into the studio to get the sounds of them playing around to use as disturbing atmosphere on God of Thunder. Initially, critics and fans were taken aback by all this excess and they felt it detracted from their raw intensity, but over the years, most people have tended to look back on Destroyer as the pinnacle of KISS’ studio output. It was a gamble that, while it may have initially alienated some, worked in the bands favor with the LP becoming their first platinum seller, mostly thanks to the unexpected success of the Peter Chris sung B-side, Beth, an acoustic ballad!

I’d be the first in line to dismiss KISS as opportunistic hucksters as far as a band willing to sell its soul for the all-mighty dollar. Gene Simmons has long been well known for his unapologetic capitalistic values and willingness to slap his brand on anything that’ll sell. I was 12 years old when I first heard them. My cousin had Alive and the whole shtick instantly appealed to my tween brain. They were the first band that seemed “dangerous” and there was a brief moment in their early career where they did carve out a unique niche for themselves that deserves some acknowledgement for its innovation. However, it didn’t take long for them to bankrupt their credibility by indulging in a long series of increasingly crass commercial gambits which only served the purpose of lining their pockets in a way that was obvious to even a naive teenager. After a couple of years, I’d moved on to far more substantial artistic territory as the late 1970s exploded with new and dynamic artists who left bands like KISS in the dust. But there’s always going to be that part of my inner child that looks back on those early days as a moment of wonder and fascination and I have to give credit where its due to a band that understood how to take spectacle to a new level. Destroyer, as an album, captures the best of that effort at its peak and still has the ability to conjure up some satisfying nostalgia for that strange era of mythological rock.

ALICE COOPER - LOVE IT TO DEATH @ 50

 

Alice Cooper used to be a band and not just the guy singing the songs. Back when this was true, 50 years ago today, on March 9th, 1971, they released their third album, Love It To Death. It’s success became the basis upon which they’d build their legend.

Alice Cooper, the band, had been around under various names since about 1966 and had managed to develop a reputation for some wild, theatrical live shows. After spending some time in LA and doing a couple of middling, commercially irrelevant psyche-rock albums for Frank Zappa’s label, the group relocated to Detroit just in time to find themselves surrounded by the likes of raw powerhouses like the MC5 and The Stooges with the furious Iggy Pop freaking out on stage. George Clinton was also firing up the stage with Funkadelic and these influences all helped to revitalize Alice Cooper. Eventually, after seeing them at Max’s Kansas City in NYC, greenhorn producer, Bob Ezrin, finally agreed to work with the band and, after rehearsing the fuck out of them for 10-12 hour days for a few months, got them to record I’m Eighteen as a single to prove to label Warner Bros. that they had commercial potential. The single was a solid hit for the group and got them into the studio to do a full album.

After all that rehearsal, Ezrin had managed to banish all the psychedelic excesses out of them, whittling 8 minute freakout jams down to concise three minute hard rock songs. The result was a tight, heavy album of rock that would come together at the perfect time to become part of the foundational cornerstones of the heavy metal music scene along with similarly influential works by the likes of Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. And while those bands may have owned more of the credit for the music’s sound than Alice Cooper, the accompanying stage show the band put together to tour the album would be far more influential in terms of giving the burgeoning genre its style and aesthetic.

The album's influence, however, wouldn’t be limited to heavy metal heads. A few years later, as punk rock began to rumble in the streets of London and New York, both it’s primary respective instigators, the Sex Pistols and the Ramones, would reference I’m Eighteen in their own songs, with the Pistols even legendarily auditioning front-man Johnny Rotten by having him lip-sync the Cooper hit on a Jukebox in Malcolm McLaren’s boutique. The immediacy and energy of the music simply worked as a touchstone for the punks in the same way that Hawkwind did for the emerging scene.

Alice Cooper, as a band, would produce several more classic albums before lead singer Vince Furnier decided to take the brand as his private, solo vehicle and leave the rest of the group behind. Love It To Death, however, is still considered the first proper Alice Cooper album and one of their best.

WANDAVISION - REVIEW

 

WandaVision finished its run yesterday so I thought I'd share a few of my thoughts now that I've seen it all.

SPOILER ALERT!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED!
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So right off the bat, I'm gonna say this is the best product to come out of the MCU thus far, hands down. It did an amazing job of offering up something fresh, original and emotionally engaging, well beyond the standard "mega-punch-up", often exhausting 3 hour explosion orgies that comprise so much of the superhero movie genre. Thankfully, there was almost none of that stuff until the finale, which I'll give a pass because they didn't spend too much screen time on it and even had the dueling Visions ultimately resolve their conflict through a brilliantly REASONED DEBATE, though after a brief obligatory energy blast exchange.

It's that defying of expectations and refusal to bend to fan service that made me the happiest. All throughout the series, I'd see various commenters and theorists trying to second guess where this was going to go and who the "big bad" was gonna be and, almost without exception, they were all WRONG! That's right, no fucking Mephisto! Even though everyone and their dog was busily trying to find someone who was gonna turn out the be the "devil in disguise", it didn't happen. There really was no "big bad" in this show. Even the characters with nefarious intents didn't fall into the niche of a power hungry super-being like Thanos. Though Agatha may have come close, she was well tempered by the sincerity of her curiosity and simply being likeable and fun. NOT having that kind of antagonist, In the end, was a bold-ass move that made me love this show all the more.

Ultimately, the series is an examination of grief, how we cope with it through escapism and how that escapism inevitably harms those around us. That's a pretty ironic conceptual framework for a show set in a cinematic universe that uses escapism as its stock-in-trade. But this show has "meta" references built into its DNA. That was one of the primary engagement engines for it; deciphering all the cultural touch-points they used as the fantasy world created by Wanda evolved through its progression of decades. The show's creators invested incredible amounts of effort into meticulously recreating each era they explored along with every detail of its stylistic nuances, right down to shooting one episode in front of an actual studio audience to get the feel of the performances just right.

As good as all that packaging was, its true success comes down to the performers and the emotional depth they brought to their performances. There isn't a single cast member who didn't deliver on all the gut-punches of feeling that came through as the reality of this fantasy unfolded. As we peeled away the facade of the "perfect world" Wanda was trying to create, the unsettling indicators of how much pain was below the surface were all brilliantly communicated by the actors through a myriad of nuanced signals. It was all a candy apple; sweet and shiny on the outside, but rotten with misery within.

How appropriate is it that this show should appear at the tail end of the nightmare that is MAGA culture? Here, we have a group of people desperately trying to cling to a vision of an idealized America that never existed, just like the fictional worlds Wanda fell in love with while trying to escape the war and pain of her childhood. And how much pain has that delusion inflicted on the rest of us as these people insist on clinging to their lies and fantasies at the expense of every reasoned plea for compassion and acknowledgement of the problems we must come to terms with.

I certainly have high hopes that we'll see more work like this from the Marvel franchise, though I do hope that they can come up with a way to make it a bit more self-contained. My only real gripe with WandaVision is that I had to do a lot of homework in order to understand the backstories and motivations of the characters. Much of this involved hours watching overlong feature films where the characters I was interested in were only minor supporting players or else trolling through YouTube breakdown videos to learn about references to comic books I'll never read. That interdependence, on one hand, is an admirable feat of coordination from a fictional writing perspective, but it makes pursuing this franchise somewhat daunting if I have to slog through too much extraneous content in order to be able to follow a particular piece of this puzzle. That said, I am looking forward to seeing what else is in store from this world.

THE KLF - THE WHITE ROOM @ 30

 

Thirty years ago today, on March 4th, 1991, The KLF released their second and final album, The White Room. It was the culmination of four years of work which began on January 1st, 1987, when founding band member, Bill Drummond, was possessed by the notion that he must create an Illuminati inspired hip-hop band to be called, The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu (The JAMs). Drummond quickly recruited Jimmy Cauty, whom he knew from managing his band, to be his partner in art-crime and the duo set about concocting the ultimate pop-music heist, stealing the charts in the early 1990s before disappearing in a hail of fake bullets, dead sheep and a cloud of smoke from a million burnt one pound notes.

After two albums and a few singles under The JAMs moniker, the project morphed into The KLF (Kopyright Liberation Front). The White Room album then began as a film project in 1989, funded by the money made by the group’s one-off alter-ego, The Timelords, and their smash #1 hit single, Doctorin’ the Tardis. The idea was to do a road movie with an accompanying soundtrack. Rough versions of both were produced (and subsequently bootlegged over the ensuing years), but before the project could be properly completed, funds ran out and an attempt to refill their coffers from another hit single failed when that single tanked on the charts and didn’t generate sufficient sales. With the project at a standstill, the duo regrouped and came up with an entirely new concept for an album when they started releasing singles in a style they dubbed “Stadium House”. This involved taking songs from the soundtrack, re-recording elements and adding rap vocals with cheering crowd sounds to emulate live performances. The results became instant hits in the club circuit and soon on radio. Accompanying videos also received heavy rotation on the MTV channels and, once the album was completed, it became a world wide hit.

The KLF were, all the while, also working on a conceptual level that went far beyond making hit records. They were actively and self-consciously creating a mythology around themselves, integrating arcane symbolism and conspiracy theories into their lyrics, advertising and graphics. This wasn’t the kind of anti-intellectual nonsense that gets passed off as “conspiracy” now in the age of QAnon. This was something that drew from a deep well of cultural symbolism and they expertly wove those ideas into their works while simultaneously treating the music industry as a bank vault and their career as the ultimate heist. It had the spirit of a grand prank while maintaining its internal artistic integrity. They climbed the mountain of success and popularity and then jumped off when everyone expected them to keep suckling the pop music cash-cow. They undermined the corporate capitalist value system and then stuck to their guns, only emerging again 23 years after their demise to survey the landscape of the dark ages they’d predicted.

Since the beginning of this year, The KLF have begun to reissue some of their catalogue which was deleted upon their retirement in 1992. The White Room, as yet, remains in the this deleted state, though one can hope to see a reissue, in some form, in recognition of its status, sometime soon. It’s an album that encapsulates a short, yet vital career that redefined what it meant to have hit singles and success on the pop charts and brought a raft of unusual ideas into the mainstream consciousness.

COIL - LOVE'S SECRET DOMAIN @30

 

Thirty years ago today, on March 3rd, 1991, Coil released their third proper studio album, Love’s Secret Domain. For this project, core members Peter Christopherson and John Balance were joined by Stephen Thrower and Otto Avery with production & engineering helmed by Danny Hyde. The album also featured a significant list of guest performers including vocals by Marc Almond, Rose McDowall and Annie Anxiety.

Prior to the album’s release, Coil released a single of Windowpane in 1990, which was a song clearly displaying the influence of the electronic dance music scene that had become popular since the emergence of Acid House in 1988. In the ensuing years, “rave” culture had swept the underground and both John & Peter became deeply ensconced in it and its attendant mind altering substances. Indeed, the entire recording process for the album became steeped in psychedelic drugs, as indicated by the album's “LSD” acronym. As a result, some of the recording sessions became pretty mad affairs with conflicts frequently arising during production that could lead to days-long debates between members.

Stylistically, the sound of the dance floor can be clearly heard infiltrating the album as evidenced by the Windowpane single and The Snow, which is fully submerged into the transcendental rhythm of trance techno, though displaying production sophistication that was far beyond the aesthetics of most other contemporary producers of the era. But this was not the sole concern of the album as its styles diverged in a wide array: from sleazy nightclub jazz to deep, dark ambient passages to Spanish flamenco guitar flourishes and more. Yet the whole somehow manages to come together into a relatively coherent, trip-worthy soundtrack.

As far of the packaging, the cover features a gorgeous painting by Nurse With Wound main man, Steven Stapleton, who created the painting on a piece of wood from an old outhouse door that he had kicking around his property in Cooloorta. The image is an ingeniously multifaceted crypto-mystical phallic crest that resolves into a lion’s face when you look at it just the right way. It’s the kind of graphic that continues to reveal new elements within itself every time one takes a closer look. I’ve seen it for 30 years and I still keep finding new subliminal content emerging from its depths.

The production of this album was so intense that it left Coil in somewhat of a quandary in terms of how to follow it up. Struggling throughout most of the proceeding decade, the group didn’t start to produce fully realized albums again until the turn of the millennium. It’s not that they didn’t release anything, but what did get released was mostly experiments and idiosyncratic indulgences. They were certainly not without merit, but it wasn’t until the Music To Play In the Dark albums that they returned to writing “songs” in a more concise manner. Attempts were made to do another album as a continuation of LSD. They even went to the US and worked at Trent Reznor’s studio in New Orleans in the early 1990s on an album, Backwards, but they struggled to get what they wanted and the album that emerged from these sessions ended up shelved for many years. It wasn’t until after John’s death that these recordings surfaced in a remixed and reworked form on the Ape of Naples/New Backwards sets from 2007. Their original form didn’t get released until after Peter’s death on a 2015 remastered version of the Backwards album, though bootlegs of it had been making the rounds for two decades. All of this just means that LSD was a tough act to follow and left a legacy that many Coil fans consider the band’s peak.

For me, personally, the album certainly holds a special place in their canon of recordings, particularly Windowpane and its accompanying video, which I was fortunate enough to get to see shortly after it was produced in 1990. I have distinct memories of seeing it while high on acid myself and being completely blown away by its psychedelic majesty. It’s a simple concept; John, sporting a silver lamé jacket, flouncing around in the water against a golden sunset, overlaid with mirrored video FX, but it’s so beautifully rendered and it captures the experience of that altered state with remarkable accuracy and emotional resonance.

Since it’s original release, LSD has been reissued several times with at least two remastered editions including a brand new one to celebrate its 30th anniversary. So if you’re looking to discover it for the first time or bring it back into your life after a long absence, now’s the time to set the controls to go Further Back and Faster and grab a bottle of some Teenage Lightning!

THE STRANGLERS - MENINBLACK @ 40

 

 

February 7th marks the 40th anniversary of the release of The Stranglers fifth studio LP, The Gospel According to The Meninblack, released on this day in 1981.

The album began life as what most fans considered to be a throwaway track on their previous album, The Raven. The song, Meninblack, seemed like a bit of frivolous fun, featuring a half speed mechanical drum loop, layers of synth and a helium double speed vocal that incited conspiratorial screeds about mysterious aliens harvesting humans for food. It all, at the time of its release in 1979, seemed a bit silly to most, though it was always one of my personal favorites from that album for its experimentalism and oddness.

The truth was that the guys were quite serious about this conspiracy of mysterious black clothed "agents" who appeared to people who reported encounters with UFOs. It's a concept that has since become a staple trope in science fiction properties like the Men In Black film franchise and the X Files TV series. Back in 1980, however, it was only something that was discussed in obscure intellectual circles. One must remember that it is only in the last few years that conspiracy culture has become mainstream with groups like QAnon gobbling up oxygen in the media. Back before the internet, conspiracy theories had a bit more clout and were closely aligned with occult (meaning "hidden") traditions. Those who pursued these topics were involved in in-depth research and documentation, not merely swapping unsubstantiated rumors with unhinged strangers online. Sure, a lot of the people involved in such pursuits were still on the fringes of society and often sanity, but at least they had some standards for research and investigation.

As work began on the album, which was split up throughout 1980 with various tours breaking up the recording sessions, a peculiar pattern of misfortune seemed to descend on the band, prompting paranoia and suspicion that what they were delving into was somehow upsetting some kind of balance. It was tempting to see the group as being cursed during the events that surrounded the creation of this record. Among many misfortunes that befell the group were things like...

• court cases resulting in custodial prison sentences (Hugh)
• management and label conflicts
• master tapes going missing for The Raven
• all their gear being stolen while on tour in the US, including Dave's impressive array of keyboards and synths, all of which had been critical in the recording of the album
• poor record sales & charting (this was the least successful album of their career to date)

The critics were also ruthlessly savage towards the album and its singles. Stylistically, though its direction had been hinted at by The Raven, it was still a huge departure from their earlier works. Overall, it had an almost "techno" vibe thanks to the heavy use of synths and Jet's focus on mechanical, precise and electronic sounding drums, though calling it "pop" would be misleading as the vibe was too bizarre and dark for such a label. The religious themes also caused critics to level accusations of pretentiousness at the group. The album was even packaged to look like marble carved scripture with a gate-fold inner image of a parody of da Vinci's Last Supper and biblical sounding song titles. It was no surprise when, after poor sales and critical reception, their label had them back in the studio, posthaste, to get going on another album to try to rehabilitate their reputation.

For me, however, this was the album that got me hooked on the group. The experimentation, use of electronics, complex themes and the cohesive aesthetic of it's symbology all worked together to form a work of astonishing completeness. Even some of the band now look back on this as the peak of their creative achievements, particularly Hugh Cornwell. It's frequently seen as the "ugly duckling" of their catalogue, but I think it has stood the test of time and bares the marks of a group willing to go against the grain to pursue their artistic vision. And I still keep a lookout for any mysterious looking gentlemen in dark suits.

 

QUEEN - INNUENDO @ 30

 

February 4th marks the 30th anniversary of Queen's final studio album completed before the passing of Freddie Mercury, released on this day in 1991. While the band would cobble together one more album to feature their late front man from unfinished sessions recorded prior to his death, Innuendo was the final album to be totally completed with Freddie's full participation.

Back in 1991, I was about as far away from my Queen fandom days as I could get. It was a time of Acid House and Techno, and Queen, for me, was a relic of my high school days and I hadn't listened to them for years. As such, the news of Mercury's death in November of 1991 came completely out of the blue. I hadn't payed any attention to the band's career in some time, so I had no idea about the rumors of his ill health or the cause of it. Suddenly I was seeing Brian, Roger and John on the news attending funeral services and it didn't seem quite real. It felt like a part of my youth had suddenly been ripped away. Though I wasn't listening to their music, I was struck with a sharp recognition of the loss that had occurred.

It would be years later when I'd start to reconnect with Queen's music. As the 21st century dawned, my musical tastes matured and expanded and I began the process of reassessing the music I'd loved in my past and why I loved it. It wasn't long before I rediscovered Queen and developed a fresh appreciation for their achievements and talents. However, that newfound admiration didn't initially extend to the music that was produced after my initial fandom had faded. I stuck close to their 1970s albums and my interest dropped off after The Game.

It's only in the last few years, maybe the last 5 or so, that I've begun to warm to some of their albums of the 1980s up to their swansong of Made In Heaven. Albums like Hot Space, which I initially looked upon as a joke, now find keen favor in my listening habits and even just the other day, as I put on Innuendo in anticipation of its anniversary, I found myself taken aback as I heard aspects of it that had never struck me before.

Listening to this album now, I'm first struck the the strength of Freddie's singing. There was only one point where I detected only a minor weakness in it and only for a split second. The fact that Freddie chose to belt out so many heavy rockers rather than take it easy with less demanding soft ballads speaks to his dedication. The man knew for some years that he was on borrowed time. He could have chosen to spend that time doing any number of things, but he chose to focus on the work. All he wanted to do was leave as much behind as possible. He insisted that the rest of the band help him plow through these years, giving him as many songs to sing as they could. It was an Olympian effort as there were days he could barely get out of bed. Yet he'd get to the studio whenever he could and just belt it out like nothing was wrong.

You can hear that determination in these song, but not the strain. He sounds confident and powerful and capable and you'd never know he was spiraling down into his own mortal coil. Seeing the videos from this album is a shocking revelation of that disparity. On screen, you can see the frailty and the fading of his visage. The most heartbreaking of all is the video for These Are the Days of Our Lives. I can't watch it without getting choked up. You can see he's saying goodbye and you can see how much love he had for his audience. Despite his obviously compromised physical presence, his dignity and joy are resonant and you know the only thing he's regretting is that it's too soon to go.

There's a lot of good music on this album in the end. It rocks surprisingly harder than a lot of their albums from this era. How he managed to muster up the energy to do that is a bit of the magic that made him who he was. It's a good way to go out, I think.