1. I
Forgot to be Your Lover – William Bell
2. Wedding
Dress – Pentangle
3. Jungle
Fever – Chakachas
4. Pretty
Thing – Bo Diddley
5. It
Beats 4 U – My Morning Jacket
6. Vad Hände
Med Dem? – The Brian Jonestown Massacre
7. Ping
Pong Affair – The Slits
8. My Rush
– #1 Dads
9. Light
Flight – Pentangle
10. Can
You Get to That – Funkadelic
11. Paint
it Black – Africa
12. If Not
Tomorrow Maybe Some Day – Daniel Bortz
13. Huarache
Lights – Hot Chip
14. Toxic
Love – Popof
15. Mr
Noah – Panda Bear
16. Need
You Now – Hot Chip
17. I’ll
Never Cry for Another Boy (Rehearsal) – The Majestic Arrows
Comprised of
just 17 tracks, 2015’s It Beats For You
is the shortest of the compilations I’ve written liner notes for. I had been in
two minds whether or not to continue into 2016 and create another biennial edition,
but decided against it. I’d rather my playlists were on the short side than unwieldily epic.
I was still taking inspiration from Spotify except there was someone new
feeding into it: a lovely Australian guy with an eclectic musical palate. Over
time, this would affect the sort of tunes that appeared on Discover Weekly,
which probably made for a more interesting assortment. 2014’s The Big Nod had been too narrow in scope
to ever be a favourite of mine, and I looked forward to shaking things up a
bit.
I don’t think we
have the antipodean to thank for William Bell’s 'I Forgot to be Your Lover'. It could have just as easily been
derived from the soul music I occasionally put on at work. Regardless, it’s a
nice way to begin my compilation. This song would
also turn up from time to time over at the St Margarets Tavern, who were more
than likely playing Spotify playlists of their own contrived to create a
mellower sort of vibe for their clientele to drink to.
I’ve referred previously to American country, folk and psychedelic music
by way of The Byrds, Neil Young, Gram Parsons, Bob Dylan, and so on. There
was also a distinctively British interpretation of the genre manifest in
groups such as Fairport Convention, Pentangle, The Strawbs, and the associated Canterbury
scene, which came later, morphing into what would become known
as progressive rock. In its earlier stages, British folk rock took inspiration
from American country and folk music, the blues, psychedelia, traditional
English folk music, as well as the improvisational tendencies of jazz, which is maybe why Fairport Convention's first album reminded me of Jefferson Airplane. (Their fourth, Liege & Lief, is supposed to be their masterpiece, but I never got that far.) Pentangle sound to my ear quite different, and the various listening habits of their members may explain why. Double-bass player
Danny Thompson and drummer Terry Cox were grounded in jazz, guitarist John
Renbourn was interested in the more traditional elements of folk, whereas Bert
Jansch had a taste for blues. How that all works itself out I couldn’t tell
you, although it sounds to my ears that 'Wedding
Dress' exhibits more the influence of traditional folk music whereas 'Light Flight' reveals the rhythm
section’s fondness for jazz.
(The/Les/Los) Chakachas were a group of Latin-soul studio musicians, from
Belgium of all places, responsible for this saucy number. 'Jungle Fever' was a big hit in the United Puritanical States of
America but was banned by the BBC soon after its UK release. It featured in
the film Boogie Nights and has been
sampled a number of times, normally within the realm of hip
hop.
Bo Diddley is often cited as one of the originators of rock and roll, alongside
Bill Haley, Little Richard, Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis. Bo Diddley is
probably the classiest guy among that lot, and there’s a groove to 'Pretty Thing' that you might struggle to
find in the music of his co-conspirators; signs that maybe he remained closer
to the source, cleaving more keenly to the blues. 'Pretty Thing' was released in 1955, and a mention should also go out
to the guy playing the harmonica, Lester Davenport.
Discover Weekly
does not discriminate, and nor do I. The transition from blues driven rock and
roll to the space-rock of My Morning Jacket’s 'It Beats 4 U' works surprisingly well. This was what I was missing
out on in 2005 by not listening to contemporary music, other than The Bees and
Kings of Leon. 'It Beats 4 U' would
have sat comfortably on the previous year’s playlist too, maybe alongside the
Besnard Lakes or Papercuts.
Despite my enthusiasm for The Brian Jonestown Massacre compilation Tepid Peppermint Wonderland: A Retrospective,
which I’d seized upon in 2007, the only other record of theirs I’d purchased was Give It Back! in 2011. I’d lost track
of what they were up to, but in 2014 they released their 13th studio album, which slowly had found its way onto Spotify. 'Vad Hände Med Dem?' sounds like The 13th Floor Elevators
on uppers, which, knowing Anton Newcombe, could well have been the intention.
When I’d included The Slits on 2011-12’s The World’ll Be OK I’d opted for the obvious with 'Typical Girls'. Listening to them
now, it struck me that 'Ping Pong Affair'
was the more interesting song. The drums jerks back and forth, and Viv
Albertine’s vocals turn in unusual directions. It’s also a clear indicator of
the influence that reggae and ska had on British new wave and punk.
#1 Dads are an Australian alternative band that weren’t introduced to me
by the Australian work colleague with a taste for alternative bands. 'My Rush' is taken from the 2014 album About Face. The group appear to be
defunct, possibly because they were never more than a
side-project anyway devised by a guy called Tom Iansek, who more usually plays
in a band called Big Scary.
Pentangle again, time signatures jumping all over the place, vocalist Jacqueline McShee doing an excellent job. I’ve already
commented on how the influence of jazz makes itself known on 'Light Flight' and will leave it at that.
Turning 40 isn’t as bad as turning 30.
Turning 30 draws to a close a period of abandon and of avoided responsibility that
characterises one’s twenties in a psychological, tectonic shift that can induce
mild panic, even angst. Such qualities have more traditionally been associated with reaching 40 – the archetypal mid-life crisis – but these days it's more an excuse for a party.
Or a holiday. Back to New York City. Funkadelic have no specific connection with the place – they based
themselves in Detroit – but they sit nicely in it. Yet I came by 'Can You Get to That' at work, via
Spotify, possibly because I’d been feeding their algorithm James Brown and
The J.B.’s. It’s a very pleasing and fortuitous thing, then, that rather than reminding me of work, Funkadelic makes me think of New York.
When I first heard Africa’s cover version of 'Paint it Black' it took me a while to discern what song it actually
was. This is because I was in the St. Margaret’s Tavern at the time and there
was ambient noise to contend with, and also because their version is a radical departure from
the original. Further, so often has this tune been covered that it wasn't easy finding out who was responsible in this instance, but it’s from an album called Music From “Lil
Brown” released in 1968. Africa themselves were formed from the ashes of a
number of rhythm 'n' blues backing bands who’d obviously had enough of it and wanted to cut loose playing a sort of Latin fusion of psychedelic funk.
The tracks that
follow were all suggested by Spotify under the influence, I suspect, of The
Australian. There were some things that The Australian used to play that didn't do it for me: Australian hip hop, The Black Keys, and Queens of the Stone Age
(although I suppose Songs for the Deaf
provides the occasional moment). Electronic stuff such as 'If Not Tomorrow Maybe Some Day' by Daniel Bortz, on the other hand,
I liked. Or maybe The Australian had nothing to do with it and Spotify
just shoehorned it in there.
I am generally indifferent towards Hot Chip but the single 'Huarache Lights' strongly appealed to me.
I’m not sure exactly why, because from what I know of them it doesn’t represent
much of a musical departure, but I was reminded of the band Clor, or a more
upbeat Tom Vek. An improvement, as opposed to a change, the drive towards
innovation is no longer the main imperative.
More instrumental music: the techno flavoured 'Toxic Love' by a French DJ/producer called Popof, taken from the Summer on Mars EP released in 2008. I
can take it or leave it, but it compliments what comes before and after and
helps carry the final quarter of my compilation towards its conclusion.
Panda Bear – aka Noah Benjamin Lennox – is an experimental sort of artist,
experimenting mostly with synthesisers, samplers and sequencers. 'Mr Noah' is a violent tune that
incorporates the barking of dogs, but the vocal is pleasant enough, completely
at odds with the canine cacophony that persists in the background.
Hot Chip's 'Need You Now'
is a smoother, slightly mellower effort than 'Huarache Lights'. It samples Sinnamon’s 'I Need You Now', which is tagged as post-disco but could also be
identified as a precursor to house. You shouldn’t read anything into this conspicuous
enthusiasm for Hot Chip, and electronic pop music generally, because it would
never have come to pass if it wasn’t for where I was working, and has since
dissipated.
In August my partner and I took ourselves off to Malaga, which intentionally coincided
with the finish of Stage 3 of that year’s Vuelta Espana and unintentionally
with the Feria de Málaga. Peter Sagan won the stage, while the Feria brought
Spanish holiday makers to the coast and teenage drinkers onto the streets.
In October my bouldering buddies and I drove to Fontainebleau in France
to climb up rocks and were blessed with fine weather for the three days that we were there. Climbing on actual rocks is a different proposition from climbing
indoors – technically more difficult, physically more demanding and sometimes
scary. But the rolling forests and gentle valleys of Fontainebleau are a joy in
themselves, and the post-climb beers felt well deserved.
I bought a steel bike with integrated shifters to replace the one I'd ridden from London to Brighton, which only had six gears and was slightly too small for me. In December, my Cornish friend and I met for our annual Dickensian pub crawl, a tradition we'd initiated in 2010, but none of our invited guests turned up.
The version of 'I’ll Never Cry for Another Boy' by The Majestic Arrows is a rehearsal, which gives this soul
tune an almost folksy feel. It’s a deliberately off-kilter finish to a
compilation that was running out of steam. Although I’d succeeded in my remit
to diversify musically, it had been a bit of an effort to find material
good enough for inclusion. Maybe I hadn’t looked hard enough, or had been
distracted by my vacations, cycling concerns, festive pub crawls, or turning
40.
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