Versus – Lose That Dress/Yeah You
Versus – Jealous
Versus – A Heart Is A Diamond

Baring any further postponements, sometime this week GPB will take over daytime programming at Album 88. Over the past month there have been many tributes, like mine and the one just recently orchestrated by college and community stations all over the country, pleas from indie artists and even a counter proposal that actually includes more tangible internships and media access to GSU students than GPB has promised. We’ll see how this ultimately plays out, but what is clear is how important Album 88 is to the thousands of people who have listened to it over the past 43 years and to the hundreds of us who had the privilege to work there.

My time at Album 88 was during the mid-1990s, a period of rapid change in the popular culture landscape. I arrived in 1993, at a period of time where “Alternative” was the new buzz word for the kind of music Album 88 had championed for 20 years, “college/indie rock.” At that time we had commercial stations essentially take our playlist, streamline it (the 88 playlist in those days had over 70+ different artists and 200+ songs, changed on a weekly basis, with additional input from the live DJs. Commercial stations, as they still do, chopped that down to 25-40 different songs, repeated again and again and again) and then sell it to the masses. This was the period of time when regulations changed and suddenly it seemed like Clear Channel owned every other station and you’d hear the same song, sometimes at the exact same time, on multiple stations in the same market. By the end of my time at Album 88, Hip-Hop had also branched out into commercial mainstream radio. Despite, or perhaps because of these changes, Album 88 emerged out of this period focused more than ever before on truly independent artists and local talent.

I worked as a music director from 1996-1997and the experience taught me more about music and the music industry, good and bad, than I’d probably bargained for. For me, it was really all about the music and that remains the case, which is the easiest explanation why I’ve spent 20 years in non-commercial college/community radio. When I look back at those years, there are many great records that remind me of my time there, some tied to specific memories or specific people. But if I have to be completely honest, there isn’t a record from that period of time that I love more than this one from Versus. I firmly believe that if Secret Swingers had come out at anytime over the last couple of decades it would have been hailed as the exceptional record that it was. Far too few took notice of the album in 1996, though the people of Atlanta got a healthy dose of it, we must have played virtually every song from this album at one point on Album 88, I certainly know that I did on my regular rotation shows during that time. Though I bought a copy at that time, it was one of the many casualities in 2004. This copy is one that I happily ran into several months back at Gimme Gimme records, which is really something else since only 2,000 of these were even pressed.

I’ve always thought that this record had the feel of a soundtrack, without ever being associated with a film or designed as such. It’s not because there’s a particular theme that runs through the record, it’s because the images the lyrics and music evoke are so vivid that when I listen to virtually every song on this record, it’s easy to visualize them as images and as if there’s a film going on. The album begins with “Lose That Dress,” a song that you’d think might have be a sexual reference, but it seems more like a plea from the singer to a friend that just simply needs to grow up, act her age, and stop dressing like she used to as a teenager so she can figure out who she really is for herself.

She’s that girl that doesn’t want to act her age,
We’ve been friends for years and that’s why it’s ok,
I don’t know who she thinks she needs to impress,
Girl I know you’re special but you gotta…
Lose that dress, Lose that dress

On the album “Lose That Dress” goes right into “Yeah You,” as Fontaine Toups attempts to hold out the final note as long as she can, fails mightily, but picks it back up as Richard Baluyut screams “Yes!” and claps his hands. “Yeah You” is even more direct in its critique of bad behavior by a friend, in this case someone who is addicted to Heroin, which has put a major strain on the relationship. From there we move to “Glitter Of Love” which has a reference to Jennifer Jason Leigh that should feel dated, but instead feels timeless just because of the kind of actress she has been throughout her career.

You look real to me,
You’re Jennifer Jason Leigh,
but you’re taller than me,
and you carry a gun,
you look like so much fun,
I’m really stuck on you,
and that’s more than the truth,
Give me the chance to prove my star-crossed love

That “I’m really stuck on you, and that’s more than the truth” kills me every single time…Now, I could go on and on and on about every single track on this record, they’re all written so vividly, but given how long this post already is (and what’s waiting below) I thought I spent the rest of my time talking about the two tracks that have most kept this record in my mind for almost the entire 18 years since I heard it first.

“Jealous” remains my favorite song, it’s a song that I played during my final show at WRAS in May 1998, at the literal half-way point of the show. The song seems to detail a tumultuous relationship, it seems like one party is likely cheating on the other, or at least is suspected of it and the song deals with the effect jealousy has on the relationship with lyrics that seem to play out through a confrontation, a split and an attempt at reconciliation. Like a number of the songs on this album, there’s this great point/counter-point between the two vocalists that perfectly illustrates the conflicting emotions and feelings that come with an intense love affair that simply can’t last, As Baluyut sings “I’m not really asking you to stay, in fact I’m really wishing you were far away,” Fontaine coolly follows with, “I didn’t mean any harm, Don’t want to let you get far away.”

“Jealous” is also such a quintessentially end of the 20th century kind of a song. I feel proud to have grown up in an era where we could disconnect the phone whenever we wanted no one to find us or bother us. “Jealous” marks that time in its chorus, which is just about the coolest thing that’s ever been written:

Jealous…again,
Jealous like a good American,
Yeah we know,
Better to deny and never know,
How scare you are,
Baby please come home,
Come on baby, disconnect the phone,
Don’t keep pushing me away,
Come on baby, promise that you’ll stay

Though “Jealous” is my favorite song, it’s not the best song on the record (I don’t know if that makes any sense, but I think you know what I mean), the best song is “A Heart Is A Diamond.” This is the closing credits song, the song that plays after everything has been put in its place, all the loose ends have been wrapped up and the whole story has been told. I think it’s the best thing that the band ever recorded and lyrically it’s sheer gold, so even though this post is already longer than almost everything else on this blog, I just had to print them all here, with one caveat, I’ve never been able to figure out what they say in that line in the chorus, “we can make it work, with a little ____.” So, I’ve included the two words that seem to fit best from all my years singing along to this song in the car:

Every time you try to run away,
Someone’s there convincing you to stay,
You’re just gonna bury your heart in the ground ike a diamond,

Everyone is looking for answers to,
Questions they forgot to ask you,
You’re your just gonna bury your heart in the ground like a diamond,

Dig it up and then come back to me
We can make it work, with a little amnesty,
don’t forget, don’t regret the secret you told me,
A heart is a diamond til you set it free

Everyone is looking at you for a sign,
It’s hard enough to walk in a straight line,
And you’re just gonna bury your heart in the ground like a diamond

Do you ever feel like you’re too old,
To replace the memories that you sold,
Tell me all the stories that you never told, told anyone

Dig it up and then come back to me,
We can make it work, with a little empathy,
Don’t forget, don’t regret the secret you told me,
A heart is a diamond til you set it free

This memory could last a lifetime,
You can just sit there by yourself, silently,
A heart is a diamond until you set it free.

Play that song over and over again,
Don’t pretend you didn’t like it back then,
You’re just gonna bury your heart in the ground like a diamond

When you know your heart is breaking up,
Will you just let it come to a stop,
Or are you gonna bury your heart in the ground,
until it’s found

There’s no way at 21 I could have appreciated that verse, “Do you ever feel like you’re too old, to replace the memories that you sold, tell me all the stories that you never told, told anyone.” I certainly felt old, less than a year removed from my mother’s unexpected passing, but there’s a difference between feeling old and feeling that you are too old to live the kind of life that you wanted for yourself when you were younger. I’m happy that at (almost) 39 those lyrics aren’t directed to me, but they still feel like they’re for me, that they’re the kind of thing I need to say, and often do, to the people I love when it’s clear that they’re lost there way.

After listening to this record off and on and on and off again over the past 18 years I still marvel at how clearly personal these songs feel, written for specific people, specific relationships and how they still fit into some of the movies of my own life. One day, maybe I’ll write a story, or a novel, or a screenplay about those Heroic years at Album 88. If I do, this will certainly be the soundtrack.

Cheers,

Michael

2014 has been a year of change and discovery, following my separation and move to an apartment in Glendale. I’ve been blessed to make a solid enough living to have the ability to engage in a little record therapy and keep searching for records. This Spring turned out to be an especially fruitful period of time in that regard. Here on the last full day of Spring, I thought I’d share a few of the records that I’ve picked up in recent months, and since I so rarely post 45s on the blog, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to focus on some of the better ones I’ve bought recently. 3 of the 4 records posted here came from the same collection. I bought a fairly rare 45 from a local dealer and arranged to pick it up in person and not have to worry about shipping costs or postal mishaps. While setting up the meeting he mentioned that this was from a somewhat large collection he had just purchased and I was welcome to go through it too. These are essentially the most lovely words a collector can hope to hear and so I was pretty excited to see what the collection might have to offer (even though he also mentioned that some “Northern Soul” guy had already gone through it). Because of the size of the collection, a bout of the cold, and some bad scheduling, what I thought would be a single trip turned into four separate trips. I actually never got a chance to go through all of the 45s as the dealer sold what remained of the collection for a set price, but thankfully I did grab about 10 pieces from it, and a nice 45 box, including most of these below.

Jean Kassapian – The Snake

As with any large collection of 45s, the vast majority generally are crappy pop tunes, but this collection had a fair amount of quality, well known songs too. After about an hour or two the first day I went through it I came upon this private press picture sleeve. With a song titled, “The Snake” and a mention of music for belly dancers, I really wasn’t expecting much when I put it on my portable and dropped the needle about half way into “Snake.” As soon as I heard those drums and the handclaps, my eyes just about popped out of their sockets. A quick search of popsike and the like pointed to the rarity of this one, which has been comped by Finders Keepers and goes for $100-200 on the open market. I was all pleased with myself until the dealer said that he had been called away and I’d have to come back the next day. When I returned, I didn’t get much time to look at more of the records (which required a third and fourth visit), but he had priced the records. From the prices he quoted me for the other things I had picked out, it was clear that he’d done some online sleuthing of his own and was pricing the known quantities in a slightly inflated manner. However, for whatever reason, he wasn’t able to find any information on this particular 45 and so I got it for $5…score!

The Peppos and Jones Straightjacket Band – Humanity

This one wasn’t found on the same day as “The Snake” but it was from the same collection and roughly had the same story in terms of pricing. At the time I had found only one listing placing it around $50, but he never saw it, couldn’t find any info on the band and so I got this one for $5 too. It’s also a private press, I’m pretty sure from the DC area. “High School Years” is nothing to write home about, straight ahead rocker…but “Humanity” on the other hand, as you can hear this one has all kinds of weird effects and a really nice instrumental bridge. It’s got the kind of sound you’d expect to find in a early DJ Shadow production.

Puzzle – Lady

This one was from that same collection, found pretty early on, maybe the same day I found “The Snake.” This isn’t a particularly difficult to find 45, it was priced at $2 and sells for no more than $5. I’d never heard of the group Puzzle, even though they were on Motown, so that was intriguing to me by itself. Puzzle, originally based out of Chicago, was one of the few white bands signed to the venerable Detroit label, and headed up by John Valenti. The song “Lady” is a bit too adventurous with its song structure for it to have ever been a hit, but I was amazed I’d never heard it before as it’s a fantastic piece of music, from the production down to the great singing from Valenti. Every brilliant you record you dig up doesn’t have to be super rare, it just has to be something that you enjoy listening to and want to share with others.

Richard Menezes – Nova Jersey

This final selection was actually an Ebay buy. It came from one of my favorite sellers on there, who always has amazing Latin and Brazilian records. More than a few times I’ve been caught without nearly enough money to compete with the auctions, but this Spring I was able to grab a few nice pieces, which I’ll likely highlight here later on. Generally this seller only does auctions, but for some reason he put up a few things with the “buy-it-now” option. Most of the pieces he did this for appeared to be records that had some defect or something that was missing, such as a cover or a record that was in solid condition except for two songs that were scratched. I have no idea why he chose to do it for this 45, may be because of the condition of the picture sleeve which is taped together, maybe because he didn’t know the artist. I’d never heard of Richard Menezes and there was absolutely no info online about him. However, he’d attached an audio file to the listing for this 45, and within 15 seconds of hearing those drums, that guitar and that flute, I immediately snatched it up. I don’t need more information to know that “Nova Jersey” is one of the cooler, bluesy, slow and psychedelic songs I’ve heard out of Brazil. Hopefully I’ll track down more music or info about Menezes in the future, but for now, these sounds will more than do.

Cheers,

Michael

Erasmo Carlos – Minha Gente
Erasmo Carlos – Sorrisa Dela
Erasmo Carlos – Vida Antiga
Erasmo Carlos – Mundo Cao

As the eyes of the entire world turn towards Brazil for the World Cup, I realized that I haven’t shared what is my single favorite album produced out of Brazil, Erasmo Carlos’ Sonhos e Memorias. I don’t have nearly the amount of background information I should have about Erasmo Carlos and the recording of this album. Many assume that Roberto Carlos and Erasmo Carlos are brothers, but they are not, at least not in the blood relative sense. The two of them cast a long shadow over the Jovem Guarda in the 1960s, with sounds that mostly mined from American rock’n’roll, with a little Brazilian flavor. By the 1970s, it’s clear that the influence of Tropicalia and post-Summer Of Love hippie culture made a major impression on Erasmo’s music. The result is this album, which contains one of my all-time favorite songs in any language, in any genre, from any age, “Minha Gente.”

“Minha Gente” translates to “My People.” The song is likely a tribute to a specific circle of friends and family, but could just as easily be extended to people who live life with the spirit that the song expresses. Lyrically, though the song appears to be sung to a “Brother,” it also acts a critique of the outside society, the old guard, and the people, young and old, who do not understand the way of life that Carlos and his cohorts have chosen. I’m not sure there’s a song that more fully encapsulates the way I feel in this world and the way I feel about the people I love, than this song (though “Life Could” from Rotary Connection comes very close). This is a song that I have literally listened to on repeat for hours on end. The mood that the music evokes is absolutely perfect.

Erasmo Carlos – My People
Brother, they keep asking me
Who are my people, what do they feel
What is my full name …

Brother, I lack the will
To give so much explanation
To those who do not understand anything
To those who do not understand anything

That’s why I sing, speaking of my weeping
Crying my grief
That although no one believed
It is clear as water
That although no one believed, it is clear …

Who thinks I’m so different
Who always asks what my chest feels
It’s because they do not read and do not see my heart
To these people my brother
I answer with a single word …

My people are open people
United people, True people
We are kings, We are prophets
We are sages and poets …

“Minha Gente” by itself would be enough to make this one of my favorite albums, but there are at least six other songs on the album that are also exemplary and have their own distinctive place amongst the best music to come out of one of the most creative and inspiring periods of time. It’s not a perfect record, there are some songs that fall flat with my ears, they seem to be just average Brazilian rock songs. But when Carlos gets in the groove, as he does with “Grilos,” “Mundo Cão,” “Sábado Morto,” “Meu Mar,” “Sorrisa Dela” and “Vida Antiga” it is pure magic. Nothing comes close to comparing to it.

Cheers,

Michael