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Post by StormyPinkness on Nov 30, 2011 8:55:35 GMT -8
I'm late with this. I am sick. I took some Dayquil and feel funny. I am not feeling very loquacious at the moment. Here is an album that you should know about and listen to and appreciate. "a movie for your ears"
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Post by Blacksmile on Nov 30, 2011 10:44:36 GMT -8
Van Morrison - Astral Weeks
Until now, the only album I had ever heard of Van Morrison's was Moondance, and while I enjoyed listening to it I was never really a big fan of it. But this album, I LOVED.
The music is beautiful and the vocal delivery are unreal. There seems to be so much going on instrumentally, gently plucked Spanish style guitars, flutes, strings, keys...yet it all sounds so simple. I've always liked "The Way Young Lovers Do", but hearing it along with the rest of the gems on this album was like hearing it for the first time. Powerful album and I will be keeping my eyes open for a vinyl copy of it to add to the collection. Thanks for the pick.
Standout Tracks: "Astral Weeks", "Sweet Thing", "The Way Young Lovers Do" and "Ballerina".
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Post by Cbats on Nov 30, 2011 11:30:07 GMT -8
Damn I still need to do a writeup for astral weeks. Blacksmile just touched on a lot of my thoughts though. Everything about that album is timeless. It's funny that it wasn't a big hit when it came out because if it came out today it would be absolutely gigantic
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Post by Geoff on Nov 30, 2011 12:23:10 GMT -8
Aw I was thinking of doing Hot Rats.
Oh well, I have like 5 others in mind.
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Post by Friendly Destroyer on Nov 30, 2011 18:46:04 GMT -8
"I'm a little pimp with my hair gassed back..."
This was the first Zappa album I ever owned. When I heard Tom Waits' "Hell Broke Luce" off of Bad As Me I imediately thought about this song for some reason.
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Post by J-Dawg on Dec 3, 2011 14:13:41 GMT -8
My pick for a 1960's album of the week is one of the albums that I've always felt put the "classic" in classic rock. The Rolling Stones - Let It BleedAs a kid growing up, My earliest musical memories were: - Bob Seger (thanks to dad)
- The Rolling Stones (again, thanks to dad)
- Barbra Streisand (thanks to mom)
Indeed, the earliest song I can remember hearing was the Stones' Sympathy for the Devil which may or may not have something to do with how I turned out in the end. But in terms of the album of the week, I consider Beggar's Banquet to be slightly inferior to Let it Bleed. Let it Bleed came out in December 1969 so it just barely makes the cutoff for the '60s. I'm sure everyone on the board has heard this album at least once, and if you young'uns haven't, then you're certainly due. For those who have heard it, it's time to dust it off again (literally in my case), and give it another listen. To a large extent the album showcases the talents of Mick Jagger on vocals and Keith Richards as a guitarist. Not to say there aren't some other good performances, but let's face it, those two are a huge part of why The Rolling Stones were what they were. I'm not going to give a complete blow-by-blow, but instead want to point out some of the highlights. - The album opens with Gimme Shelter, which for me is possibly my favorite Rolling Stone track of all time. It's not technically their best work, but it's still a fantastic performance. It's one of those songs I always wish I had seen performed live, but never have.
- In the middle of the first side, there's a familiar yet not familiar rendition of Honky Tonk Woman, titled Country Honk. The structure and violin give it a definite country feel, a lot more so than Honky Tonk Woman had. I don't prefer this version, but it is interesting.
- Live With Me is a decent song on it's own, but is definitely overshadowed by the big singles, as is Midnight Rambler which may well be the second-best song on here, after...
- ... the closing song on the album, You Can't Always Get What You Want, which is far and away one of the best songs the Stones have ever recorded on any album. From the opening by the London Bach Choir to the final note, this is what all classic rock, and popular music in general, aspires to be. Pay attention boys and girls; I'll grant you there are plenty of modern geniuses in pop music, but this is the 60's, and for that decade, this is where it's at.
And some final thoughts on the Stones in general: despite Maroon 5 / Christina Aguilera's claims to the contrary, nobody else has the moves like Jagger. Period.
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Post by weenie on Dec 3, 2011 14:30:22 GMT -8
And some final thoughts on the Stones in general: despite Maroon 5 / Christina Aguilera's claims to the contrary, nobody else has the moves like Jagger. Period. Except for Jimmy Fallon: [youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9_Z0-fRB54&sns=em [/youtube] (Sorry about this being the world's worst quality video! Stupid NBC.)
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Post by wompwomp on Dec 3, 2011 16:22:17 GMT -8
Probably my all-time favorite album. Good call J-Dawg
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Post by Horned Gramma on Dec 3, 2011 16:25:23 GMT -8
'You Can't Always Get What You Want' is one of the greatest songs ever written, and the album version on Let it Bleed is one of the finest recordings in the history of popular music.
It really is pretty much perfect.
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Post by Cbats on Dec 3, 2011 18:06:38 GMT -8
I don't really have anything to add but let it bleed is awesome.
The Rolling Stones (seattle cover band) was the best thing I saw at block party this summer cause it was just fun to be singing along in a grungy basement with a bunch of other people
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Post by Friendly Destroyer on Dec 13, 2011 15:38:06 GMT -8
Okay, so due to the recently departed Lumps, um, departing us, I guess, I am posting this shit because I have had it written for weeks and weeks and can't hold it in anymore. Feel free to delete this Know if I am fucking wit yer shit here.BURT BACHARACH - PLAYS HIS HITS (1965) From the Pitchfork archives, 1965.
I suddenly found myself sittin’ in the forgotten corner of a forgotten, dank, and unfriendly London pub called, The Filthy Quail’s Nest on an uncharacteristically bitter cold August English night. Just my luck, even the air was as God forsakenly frigid as the girl who’d just ripped out my still beating red heart. Just my luck indeed… The poor excuse of a pub was strategically hidden, in the public’s best interest I can only assume, down a haphazardly cobbled and twisted side street in North London’s Kilburn district and contained a similarly haphazard and twisted clientele. Sometimes what the public doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt them, right?. That is of course until the mix of whiskey eyed Irish and the soot dusted lads down from Newcastle, who lets face it , might as well be whiskey eyed Irish, twist and turn their way past the cobbled mine field and stumble onto Kilburn’s high street. Let me tell you, that was sure to hurt the public. Hell, that was sure to hurt anyone. Anyone but me that is. I’d already been hurt just about as bad as a man could be hurt and it didn’t take no half busted pointy shard bottle locked in a whiskey eyed death grip to the back of my head to do it either. If only I could have been so lucky, maybe then I could’ve just bandagd myself up with one of the many discarded rags that littered the wet gutters and slept off the pain. Maybe I could’ve just bled to death on the uneven cobbles stones, at least the whiskey would’ve kept me warm and smiling. If only… Instead I’m alone in a foreign country with nothing else but these empty whiskey glasses, which may as well have been filled with diet apple juice for all the good they’d been working on my shattered heart. Let me tell you, I’d trade a jagged bottle to my skull over the words that hit my ears any day of the week. We have these funny ideas in our brains about what a weapon looks like, how it’s built, how it operates, how it kills, who gets to have it, when really, we should know that deep down inside each and every one of us lies the biggest weapon all. A weapon that not only devastates its intended target but leaves it walking wounded in agony and in soul crushing pain for the rest of its miserable life. Words are weapons my friend. None are more capable of complete body and mind annihilation than the words, “I’m not in love with you anymore”. None except maybe if they are followed by a second merciless strike to a man’s already destroyed heart with, “I’m seeing somebody else”. Boom… nothing but ruble remains. So here I am in the corner of The Filthy Quail’s Nest, amongst multi robed gypsies and men missing more teeth than the ones that are angularly planted in their discolored gums, wondering what happens meow? I’d put both my body and my bank account through the wringer just to make the trip over to London. Fifteen long months at the feed plant tugging sharp twine away from under hay bales the size of small houses for twelve hours a day. One day off a month. What meow? I didn’t even have the coin to pay for the increasing collection of drinks in front of me. “Buy you a drink?” it was the smooth voice of a man from over my shoulder. I could tell he came from the same country as I did from his accent. America. “How about you buy me ten?” I said as he walked past me, turned, and sat down. His eyes were a striking blue and his hair looked like the hair you only saw on men in the movies. He shrugged an expensive trench coat off his shoulders letting it fall perfectly over the back of the chair. It floated so fluidly over the knotted wooden back rest that I would not have been at all surprised to see the corners lightly clipped in the tiny beaks of cartoon blue birds as they gently set it down. There was a magic to this man. “Come with me” he offered. “I need to pay for these drinks-” I began to reply, but he held a single slender finger up to his lips making a shooshing motion. As he did this I swear I saw a twinkle not only flash in the corner of his right eye, but emanate a sound like that of a fine crystal wine glass being flicked by a finger nail. As if I had no choice in the matter, my body rose and I followed this handsome magical man to the bar. The bartender told the handsome man that we owed him 30 pounds and 50 pence. Instead of reaching for his wallet the man opened his mouth and raised his arms to his sides. Not only did the most melodically intriguing and soothing sound spill from his gaping mouth, but so did a fully arched rainbow, materializing in radiant blue, green, yellow, purple and orange. Once the rainbow reached the bar a fountain of gold coins erupted from its base. The bartender’s eyes widened with glee as he scurried to catch more gold in his already over flowing apron. The Magic Man gave me a knowing look and motioned for us to leave. I followed him into the night only to realize I had not retrieved my jacket from the back of my chair. As thrilled and consumed as I was by my new friend’s aura, my skin could not neglect the biting cold. Suddenly, as if reading my mind, the man produced a full sized Rhodes piano from his pocket and began to gently push down on the keys as the instrument itself floated in front of him. The notes that resonated were so warm that they heated the temperature around us by 30 degrees. The warmth was not only felt, but I could see its hazy glow envelope our once gray surrounding and bathe them in brilliant color. Even the once whiskey eyed drunks seemed to be dressed in tuxedos and elegant top hats as they tapped thin black canes to the rhythm of the Magical Man’s piano. I then became aware of gentle guitars and bass filling the already musical air with a touch of both soul and class unlike any I’d heard before. “Those are the sounds of Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones” the Man said, “They are part of the world’s most powerful rock band, Led Zeppelin”. “I’ve never heard of them before” I stammered. “Nor should you have. They won’t come along until a couple of years from now, they are something I saw when I was fiddling around with a minor chord progression which lead to the creation of a melody that allowed me to time travel at will. I also saw a very happy ending for you back at home in New York City”. “But how can I possibly get back there?” I practically shrieked. It was then that I heard the stunning voices of what could only be angels beginning to accompany the already transcendent music around us. These voices seemed to have the power to rearrange the very molecules beneath our feet into dazzling stardust. My whole body felt at one with the universe and its secrets. The only emotions I seemed capable of experiencing amongst the gathering stardust and music were a thousand and one variations of happiness, each more intense than the other. Just as I felt like my body would explode from the stimulus overload and I would soon become embedded into the very fabric of space and time, the music began to softly fade. The stardust was next to sublimely dissipate from all around me revealing the familiar surroundings of my New York apartment. I was home. The Man, the music, and the stardust had faded, but the happiness remained. It always would after that night, yes, that night that I met Burt Bacharach. -Eyeumthee Whirst grooveshark.com/#/album/Plays+His+Hits/6107725
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Post by Friendly Destroyer on Dec 13, 2011 16:04:27 GMT -8
Fuck me, of course the grooveshark playlist is missing "(There's) Always Something There To Remind Me". Goddammit! The version that they play on this album is without a shadow of a doubt one of the most euphoric songs I've ever heard. I've almost worn the grooves out on my vinyl over the years. I tried to find it on youtube, but unfortunately they only have the standard versions with Dionne Wawick.
The version recorded for this album is worth seeking it out to own.
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Post by Frazzled on Dec 13, 2011 22:17:48 GMT -8
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Post by Lump on Dec 17, 2011 8:59:43 GMT -8
^^My album of the week^^
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Post by Drew on Dec 17, 2011 9:37:44 GMT -8
I love Arthur! I love Lumpy!
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Post by Lump on Dec 17, 2011 14:13:22 GMT -8
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Post by Friendly Destroyer on Dec 24, 2011 20:47:10 GMT -8
Fuck me, of course the grooveshark playlist is missing "(There's) Always Something There To Remind Me". Goddammit! The version that they play on this album is without a shadow of a doubt one of the most euphoric songs I've ever heard. I've almost worn the grooves out on my vinyl over the years. I tried to find it on youtube, but unfortunately they only have the standard versions with Dionne Wawick. The version recorded for this album is worth seeking it out to own. A real deal Christmas miracle folks! Merry Merry and a Happy Happy to all of you beautiful fuckers!!!!!!!!
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Post by Geoff on Jan 15, 2012 17:57:00 GMT -8
So I think we stopped doing this but fuck it, it's my week so I'll just post an album. King Crimson - In the Court of the Crimson KingOne of the greatest prog albums of all time, and one of my personal favorites. I really can't think of anything else to say, and since I'm assuming that most of you have already listened to it, I don't think I need to explain any further. And for those of you that HAVEN'T listened to it for some reason, what the fuck are you doing? Go listen to it right now.
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Post by StormyPinkness on Jan 16, 2012 8:33:15 GMT -8
Best cover art.
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Post by Friendly Destroyer on Jan 20, 2012 6:41:30 GMT -8
I'm curious to know if anyone listened to Burt Bacharach Plays His Hits (pardon any vain implications this question may have. I just love Burt Bacharach so much, this album in particular).
Carry on.
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