Even are a trio from Melbourne, Australia that I first came across while goofing off on the Internet. As with a lot of things in life, I've come to appreciate them a little late in the game.
To the extent Even had a heyday, it would have been in the late 1990s behind their first two albums, LESS IS MORE and COME AGAIN. They (rightly) gained attention for classic crafted melodies and harmonies (one musician, Tim Rogers of You Am I, called the latter "my favorite Beatles album,") and Rolling Stone named Even one of its "Hot Bands" of 1996. They specialize in 60s influenced guitar pop, often with a psychedelic or rootsy treatment. If not especially groundbreaking, they're well-written and performed songs that would appeal to fans of bands like the Smithereens.
Alas, the critical attention didn't get them very far and their sound had few contemporary practitioners, particularly after Oasis tanked. Today the band appears to be something of a side project for its members (singer/writer/guitarist Ash Naylor is a busy sideman) but still they plug away. I was sucked in the first time I heard "I am the Light" and liked 'em so much I sent away for this brilliantly designed tee-shirt (traveling by Australian Sea Mail, the package took 7 months to arrive to New York). Their most recent album is called IN ANOTHER TIME (officially out for a year now but only available to stream in the U.S. for a few weeks). It's a moody, psychedelic affair I've been wearing out, especially No Star.
Here are two more Even songs I think you'll probably like, "No Surprises" from COME AGAIN (1998) and the aforementioned "I am the Light" from Even's self-titled 2008's elpee.
By 1986, I'd already given up on Billy Joel. From my point of view it'd been pretty much downhill since The Stranger became a phenomenon, although I always had a soft spot for the live record Songs In The Attic, which highlighted his pre-Stranger material in lively arrangements. But by '86, Billy in my opinion had already gone soft, dating a famous supermodel, clawing to the contemporary on the strength of duets with 80s phenomena like Cyndi Lauper and, somehow, Ray Charles. Years later I'd similarly hate Billy Joel for trying to claim Shea Stadium as a part of his legacy despite my strong suspicions that he and most of his fans including the Long Island ones, are Yankee fans. They would approve of Cyndi Lapuer duets and 'Uptown Girl.' It didn't require any imagination.
But the DIMT is all about reconsideration. I'd been formulating a piece in praise of the TURNSTILES album but recently while filling the tank at a Wawa in Bel Air, Maryland, Joel's 1986 single 'A Matter of Trust' blasted across the gas bar. My reaction was not unlike the passerby in the below video. I'm pumping gas in January, trying to stay warm, and... godamnit, I'm dancing. Damn you Billy Joel.
Carol Miller spoke to me in bed. She worked the 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. shift at WPLJ in New York when that station was the only way I knew to grip onto what was new and cool in the world. 'PLJ ran a tight but lively "album-oriented rock" format that though lacking at the extremes provided a fairly well-rounded education in the basics from the British invasion to this New Wave thing before the format tightened still again and finally became a casualty of the "contemporary hits" format in June of 1983.
Writing in her new book UP ALL NIGHT, Miller reveals that she did not survive that format switch for long because the equity she'd built as a sultry-voiced, puberty-triggering, Zeppelin-blasting rocker all those nights couldn't translate to credible spins of Madonna and Lionel Richie. And so she washed up at PLJ's old rival WNEW (where she briefly was employed before her starmaking turn at PLJ) and rode those nighttime airwaves for another few decades. These days, she accompanies me on my night runs, still playing Led Zeppelin and Springsteen, still sexily baffled by reading the sports scores, on the banal but dependable WAXQ, New York's last rock n' roll station and the spiritual descendant of her former employers. Rock Lives, a little.
While the dust jacket promises salacious tales of torrid affairs with rock's elite, we learn Carol's not that kind of girl. The oldest daughter of a conservative Jewish family from Queens, she remained wide-eyed and naive despite the inevitable (but tame) encounters with the Paul Stanleys, Steven Tylers and Rod Stewarts of the world. Her marriage to MTV's Mark Goodman -- back then, a royal coupling -- was a disaster as she learns Goodman not only was cheating on her, but using her money to finance his affairs. What a dick! Carol in the meantime was dealing with the beginnings of what would become a lifelong battle with cancer that's required dozens of surgeries, and she battles still today. I had no idea.
While not particularly interesting from a musical standpoint, UP ALL NIGHT is best giving us a peek at the other side of the mic, and her story provides unexpected lessons in the value of perseverance, surviving not only the collapse of the radio and rock industries, but personal trauma too. I love her more than ever.
I can't say these records are necessarily the "the best" of 2012, since perusing the year-end lists from critics and fellow music enthusiasts indicates how little new stuff I actually heard this year, in part because for all the listening I did much of it was focused on reconsidering music that was either 30 years old or 50 yearsold. These little projects were worthwhile endeavors in their own right, but by definition they competed for my attention with new stuff. That which broke through for me was further warped by my perspective, which is a way of saying I probably devoted more attention to artists and genres I already liked, but still some of this was challenging too.
Here are 10 I especially liked this year no particular order.
Rosco Bandana: TIME TO BEGIN
These guys have a B-52s vibe happening if they were hippies. Bouncy.
Bruce Springsteen: WRECKING BALL
Not sure I approve his taking on an Irish accent to sing "Death to My Hometown" but I found "We Take Care of Our Own" to be absolutely stirring, sizzling with rage behind patriotic double- and triple-entendres, bright arrangements and a melody recalling that Cure New Order song. Really, a better job than "Born in the USA" here.
Paul Weller: SONIK KICKS
This album was a real grower. I found all the electronic bleats and blatts as an overpowering distraction until I came across a video of an acoustic performance that helped me appreciate their role as attention getters that complement and contemporize songs that are very strong even without them.
Ben Kweller: GO FLY A KITE
I challenge you to find an easier album to like. Effortless smiling country-tinged powerpop.
Brendan Benson: WHAT KIND OF WORLD
Smashing power-pop from Jack White's Raconteurs partner. I liked White's album too but I listen to this one more.
David Myhr: SOUNDSHINE
Swedish pop genius. Unlike some consciously retro bands (Explorer's Club) that try too hard, Myrh comes off as a contemporary whose sensibilities truly are with 70s bands like 10cc and Pilot. It's a little sugary but good for you!
Graham Parker & the Rumour: THREE CHORDS GOOD
As a big GP fan I've been looking forward to this reunion (and the associated THIS IS 40 movie) for more than a year so when I heard it first I was underwhelmed. I guess I expected to be blown out of my chair but its strengths are really the slow burns, like this Pat Tillman waltz.
Chuck Prophet: TEMPLE BEAUTIFUL
Not a great singer but a very good rocker, all the way through.
The Moons: FABLES OF HISTORY
I didn't realize when I first stumbled onto these guys that it was fronted by a musician who played with Paul Weller, but it makes sense and lends some credibility to the idea that a mod revolution is taking hold at least among old white people like me. Anyway these guys sound like the Zombies and also, Wings.
Ian Hunter & the Rant Band: WHEN I'M PRESIDENT
I know I said "in no particular order" but I think this is my favorite this year. The man is 73 years old yet delivers a searing and timely "Occupy" inspired title cut and it's only the beginning of a fabulous rock record that sounds contemporary AND like a Mott/Hunter classic at the same time. I'd been on a bit of a Hunter retro kick even before this came out, feeling as though he was an artist who never truly got his due. That's more true today than ever.
There's more! Throughout the year I kept a playlist of what I liked as I came across it at Rdio. The following list spawned these cuts but this larger one works on shuffle. Thanks to my Rdio pals and blogs I peek in on for the help this year...
I was sick with a persistent sinus/head cold and ran intermittently beginning in February, brought my miles back up too soon when I did get out and wound up with a very sore achilles tendon -- same injury that kept me off the road for months a few years ago.
Haven't run since a slow and painful performance in the Fiesta 5K in May, was definitely holding back and limped across the finish line, feeling as though something was tugging behind my right knee in addition to the sore achilles. Haven't run since.
Meantime, the lack of exercise and continued eating and drinking excess have made me feel (and look) really fat, especially at the thighs and spare tire, so much so I signed up this week for Weight Watchers. We'll see how it goes, I'm shooting for a seemingly reasonable 17-pound loss, which would take me to 175, where I haven't been for probably 15 or 20 years. It would also be a considerable help to my running if and when that gets going again.
The Trachsel Project soon after became a Mazzilli thing I'm at work on now. In the in between, coached the boy's tee-ball team which was a lot of fun and also a test of my abilities to within a weird organization and sometimes, difficult decisions.
I was home from school faking an illness the day John Bonham died. As I recall it, the radio that afternoon was abuzz with a forthcoming tour announcement for the newly released In Through the Out Door LP when the news hit. The death (September 25, 1980, wikipedia says) would spell the end of Led Zeppelin and tear a giant hole in rock radio from which, for
better or worse, it never recovered. It certainly hastened the end of the 70s, and provided a
boost to the Punk & New Wavers coming from behind.
Then
there were the bands who took up the flag for those who refused to move
on. Zebra formed in New Orleans in the 70s but for a short period in the
early 80s were H-U-G-E local heroes on Long Island, thanks largely to
WBAB, which picked up on their Zepplinesque sound and advertised their
constant Island gigging. Seemingly modeling every song after Stairway to
Heaven's gentle acoustic start and jamming climax, Zebra also called to
mind other trios like Rush (for the Plant-ish falsettos) and Emerson
Lake and Palmer (for proggy synth flourishes and lengthy jams).
Back
then, seemed to me as though there were Zebra fans, and there was
anyone who'd heard Elvis Costello, and those groups rarely hung out
together. I was solidly with the latter crowd and still think of Zebra
with a little sense of slummy, douchey bemusement. I kinda like them but
still have trouble admitting it. The band's 1983 "major label" debut
album, which thanks to WBAB every kid on the Island knew by heart for
years already, was reportedly the fastest-selling debut in Atlantic
records history, but likely as a result of the changing times and a lack
of variety, it never hit big nationally. Their second and third records
seemed simply to rework their formula from the first, and that was
that. Vocalist/guitarist Randy Jackson does the National Anthem at Mets
games sometimes and some of their fans still haven't moved on,
providing Zebra an open invitation to outdoor jams in Patchougue and
reunion gigs at the Salty Dog for as long as they live, probably.
Here's 'Bears' from Zebra's second album, No Tellin Lies.
Just me and the cats this weekend.
Saturday, painted and hung the closet doors, did a 7-mile run, watched the Patriots-Broncos debacle at a sports bar with wings. Today, fixed the back door, cleared out the tool case, ran another 7 miles. More chicken, more football and Moneyball on DVD await.
Listened to Springsteen yesterday (my Lucky Touch mix, plus for the first time probably, Devils & Dust, which I liked quite a bit).
Human Touch is an outstanding song but a rather lousy album; but I always liked Lucky Town. I bought both these albums for cheap at K-Mart in Elkton back in '92. Cassettes, since I listened in the car almost exclusively then.
Streaming The River now and remembering that although I owned this as soon as it came out in December of 1980 it was probably too much me at 14. For example, I rarely if ever played Side 4. I'm only now working at separating liking Springsteen because I was supposed to (my initial attraction was more about imitating my brother, who is 7 years older and also aligning my tastes with what I knew was critically acclaimed). It's a great record when you're in the mood for it, and though it was hard to slot in with its predecessors, there are pieces of 'USA' and 'Nebraska' all over it.
