Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500: #175 - 151

Welcome back to Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500, in which I count my personal fave psych songs from 500 all the way down to #1! Today, let's see what's discovering the meaning of life in a blade of grass from 175 to 151...

175. The Incredible String Band- "You Get Brighter" (1968), in which The Incredible String Band create such a light and joyful psych-folk confection that even atheists get wrapped up in their chants of "Krishna!"

Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500: #200 - 176

 Welcome back to Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500, in which I count my personal fave psych songs from 500 all the way down to #1! Today, let's see what's 2000 light years from home from 200 to 176...

200. The Beatles- "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite" (1967), in which John Lennon takes full advantage of all the grey areas in circus-poster copyright law.

Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500: #225 - 201

Welcome back to Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500, in which I count my personal fave psych songs from 500 all the way down to #1! Today, let's see what's bogarting that joint from 225 to 201...

225. The Pretty Things- "Private Sorrow" (1968), in which S.F. Sorrow is drafted into the army and kicks off an adulthood of non-stop trauma.

Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500: #375 - 351

Welcome back to Psychobabble's Psychedelic 500, in which I count my personal fave psych songs from 500 all the way down to #1! Today, let's see what's mellowing out from 375 to 351...

375. The Doors- "People Are Strange" (1967), in which Jim Morrison sings a jaunty little number about how you shouldn't be a weirdo, apparently without ever passing a mirror in the process.

Review: 'The Who Album by Album: Listening to You'

A few decades ago, The Who easily floated in the same atmospheric level as The Beatles, the Stones, and Led Zeppelin. They seem to have spent the subsequent years drifting back to Earth despite the tremendous quality of Pete Townshend's songs and the utter power and uniqueness of his, John Entwistle's, and Keith Moon's musicianship. So it's nice that a fan such as Dante DiCarlo still cares enough to devote a book to the albums this top-tier band made.

Review: The Eyes' 'My Degeneration'

The Eyes are often lumped in with the freaky British mod groups like The Who, The Creation, and Small Faces, and their best-known tracks do sort of crib the riff from "I Can't Explain" and Townshend's pickup-flicking from "Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere". But with their sneering R&B vibe, The Eyes owe as much to the The Pretty Things. Tracks like the "I Can't Explain"-cribbing "I'm Rowed Out", the "Anyway, Anyhow"-cribbing "When the Night Falls", the "My Generation"-cribbing "My Degeneration", and "The Immediate Pleasure", which just might not crib anything at all, have the echoey, mysteriously seedy vibe of the Pretties during their "Can't Stand the Pain"/"£.S.D." heyday. The Eyes certainly sounded much tougher than their uniforms of stripey shirts affixed with pics of their own faces in eye-shaped fields might have suggested. I guess they would have to.

Review: 'Pink Floyd: Behind the Music'

Mike Evans tends to pen the kinds of rock and roll books in which visuals take prominence over text. When some of his previous subjects include The Who and David Bowie, two of rock's most electrifyingly visual artists, the formula works as it should, and that Evans doesn't exude a ton of personality as a writer is not super consequential. 

Pink Floyd: Behind the Music is as visually oriented as Bowie Treasures or The Who: Much Too Much, but since the subject is a quartet of nondescript guys in t-shirts and jeans who tended to hunch motionlessly over their instruments, Evans has to haul more weight. 

Review: 'Their Generation: The Who in America 1967-1969'

In 1961, Pete Townshend was a sixteen-year-old kid who played in a band part time while attending Ealing Art College. It was there that he met his flat-mate Tom Wright, a visiting American with a taste for jazz and blues and pot. The pot got Tom kicked out of the UK in 1963, but the jazz and blues records he'd left behind blew little Pete's mind, influencing his still developing taste in music and guitar skills.

Review: 'The Yardbirds'

Despite never making a widely revered LP and hammering out only a handful of truly enduring 45s, The Yardbirds will always be remembered as one of the key British bands because they were the petri dish from which the country's three top blues guitarists—Clapton, Beck, and Page—sprouted. Of course, for those who care to really listen to what the group left behind, The Yardbirds are more than the sum of two truly innovative and electrifying musicians and one would-be B.B. King clone so overrated that acolytes proclaimed him "God" in graffiti all over London. And really, the majority of the Page-led era is pretty execrable. But the Beck-era Yardbirds were indeed one of the best rock bands of mid-sixties Britain, as a listen to "Heart Full of Soul","The Train Kept A-Rollin'", "Over Under Sideways Down", or "Roger the Engineer" will settle. For the quality of such records alone, The Yardbirds would be deserving of a biography of their very own.

Review: Vinyl Reissues of Pete Townshend's 'Iron Man: The Musical' and 'Psychoderelict (Music Only)'

After The Who broke up, Pete Townshend seemed to want to distance himself from his old band's roiling and raw hard rock as much as possible, so he issued a series of slick LP musicals that ranged from the personal to the surprisingly impersonal. First up was a project of the former stripe, as White City was largely inspired by Townshend's experiences working alongside his then-wife in a women's shelter, and though it revealed its 1985 origins with its synthesizers and glossy production, there was still some bite in tracks like "Give Blood" and "Secondhand Love". With its themes of anger, shame, and fame, White City was nearly as personal a record as either of Townshend's two more Who-like ones that preceded it.

Review: Vinyl Reissues of 3 John Entwistle Albums

Much like George Harrison, John Entwistle was an excellent and unique songwriter in a band with songwriters who rank among the top-five rock songwriters of all time. Sometimes you just can't win, but Harrison at least deserved the last laugh when The Beatles split and he released what is arguably the best Beatles solo album of all. 

Review: 'Teenage Wasteland: The Who at Winterland, 1968 and 1976'

There have been so many books about The Who that it only makes sense that, sixty years after the band's formation, a new entry in their library would be almost unbelievably specific. The very title of Edoardo Genzolini's Teenage Wasteland: The Who at Winterland, 1968 and 1976 announces its specificity. That is not a mistyped conjunction; this book does not track the years 1968 through 1976, when The Who were pretty much the greatest live band in the world. Genzolini's only covers two years in The Who's history, and not conspicuously auspicious ones either. 1968 was the first year The Who did not release an LP since their beginning, and the few singles they managed to squeak out in '68 are often dismissed as novelties made by an out-of-touch band desperate for fresh material (I'm not one of those dismissers though, largely because the zany "Dogs" is one of my faves). In 1976, they were touring their most troubled album, the virtual suicide-note The Who By Numbers, with rapidly deteriorating intraband relationships and a rapidly deteriorating drummer with just two years left in the world.

Review: 'B-Side'

For every hit that makes it onto the radio or Billboard's Hot 100, there's something more obscure happening on the other side. It might be a piece of tossed off trash, but it might also be of exceptional quality ("Rain"), a chance to throw a less prolific band member some royalty cash ("The Inner Light"), or an excuse to get inspiredly loony ("You Know My Name [Look Up the Number]"). Some B-sides are even better than their smash A-sides... at least that's my stance on all those Beatles flip sides I referenced in the previous sentence. 

Andy Cowan pays long overdue homage to flips in his new book B-Side. He runs through more than 500 of them, each chronicled with a brief paragraph on the particular song's history and appeal. Since he only discusses one B-side per artist, he casts a very wide net. I'm not sure if any music listener is eclectic/devoid-of-personal-taste enough to want a book that discusses The Who, Engelbert Humperdinck, Artie Shaw, Can, Frankie Avalon, The Sex Pistols, Shania Twain, N.W.A., Vangelis, The Pixies, Adele, Perry Como, PJ Harvey, Moby, Miles Davis, Sammy Davis Jr., Human League, Megadeth, Vanilla Ice, and Echo and the Bunnymen, but if such a person exists, this is the book for them (kudos, though, for including Zacherley!). 

Since most readers probably won't qualify and will want to zip to their favorite eras or artists, Cowan's decision to organize his book alphabetically by song title might prove a bit frustrating. But the concept is still nifty, and he does discuss such Psychobabble approved gems as The Stones' "Child of the Moon", Prince's "Erotic City", The Who's "Heaven and Hell", R.E.M.'s "Ages of You", XTC's "Dear God", Hendrix's "51st Anniversary", Sly Stone's "Everybody Is a Star", Small Faces' "Just Passing", and The Beach Boys' "Don't Worry Baby". I also like that he digs deep for some groovy oddities, such as The Syn's "14 Hour Technicolor Dream", The Creation's "Through My Eyes", and Tintern Abbey's "Vacuum CLeaner".

I did learn a few things, such as the apparent fact that the screaming at the beginning of "Child of the Moon" is that of producer Jimmy Miller and not Mick Jagger and that a certain naughty word I always assumed I was mishearing in Syd Barrett's "Candy and a Currant Bun" is, indeed, the naughty word in question. But without question this book's biggest revelation is the parade of A-Sides that started life as B-Sides, such as Gene Vincent's "Be-Bop-a-Lula", Bill Haley's "Rock Around the Clock", The Doobie Brothers' "Black Water", Bill Withers's "Ain't No Sunshine", Dionne Warwick's "Alfie", and Brenda Lee's "I'm Sorry". Who knew? Sometimes, though, these matters are down to Cowan being English, and A's and B's sometimes flipped across the pond, so for him, The Kink's "Who'll Be the Next in Line" is a B-side.

And since I'm sure you're wondering, the Beatles B-side Cowan selected is "Revolution".

Review: 'Nazz' Vinyl Reissue

In a post-John Wesley Harding/post-Music from Big Pink environment, most rock bands were leaving behind the potent influence of the British Invasion to embrace a more staunchly American, borderline rural sound.  Even British bands were following Dylan and The Band's leads, as The Beatles made the New Orleans-influenced "Lady Madonna" and the Stones channelled Delta country and blues into Beggars Banquet. 

Review: Vinyl Reissues of Pete Townshend's 'Rough Mix' and 'Empty Glass'

Because he wrote the vast majority of The Who's songs, Pete Townshend seemed less likely to need a solo career than frustrated songwriter John Entwistle. So, naturally, the bass player was the first member of the band to release a proper solo album, but Townshend had frustrations of his own. Incorrigibly prolific and eclectic beyond The Who's patented bash and bluster, Townshend ended up with a massive backlog of material. Some of it squeaked out on records mostly passed out to followers of his preferred spiritual leader, Meher Baba, and a more widely distributed release called Who Came First that was credited to Townshend but also included songs by fellow followers Billy Nicholls and Face Ronnie Lane.

Review: Eddie Piller's 'Clean Living Under Difficult Circumstances: A Life in Mod'

Eddie Piller is a big name in certain nattily attired, musically minded circles. He is the founder of Acid Jazz Records, a musical tastemaker who lends his name to mod and power pop compilations, and a renowned second-generation mod. So when I saw that he had a book coming along that cribbed its title from Mod-founder Pete Meaden's most famous description of his cult--clean living under difficult circumstances--I assumed it would be a general history of modernism. 

Review: Bronco Bullfrog's 'The Sidelong Glances of a Pigeon Kicker' Vinyl Reissue

By the time they made their third album in 2002, Leicester's freakbeaters Bronco Bullfrog had relocated to London where they had access to a number of pro-studios, but they were a little light on material. So Andy Morten broke his monopoly a bit to allow bandmates Louis Wiggett and Mike Poulson to get more involved in the songwriting. The results were somewhat mixed. Although the album was very consistent with the group's deliberately retro vibe, that retro-ness was wearing thin for the band's leader, who felt that too many of the songs were derivative. When you hear how the Beatlesque "Barnaby Slade" and "I'm Not Getting Through" both recycled offbeat "Taxman" guitar accents and "Last Chance to Smile" begins with a "Pictures of Lily" descending chord figure before finishing with a substitute "Substitute" lick, you'll agree he has a point. 

Review: 'Bronco Bullfrog' Vinyl Reissue

Lest you worry Bronco Bullfrog's unabashedly retro melange of Beatle-esque harmonizing, Beck-esque feedbacking, and Moon-esque drum-pummeling is a bit too calculatedly retro, dig into chief songwriter Andy Morten's way with words. Even Townshend would have stayed his pen before scribbling anything as grungy as "I can smell the shit baking in the sun," and Petey certainly wouldn't have had the expectation-scrambling audacity to sneak it into a genuinely sweet and nostalgic ode to summertime that would make Brian Wilson weep. 

Review: Bob Dylan's 'The Philosophy of Modern Song'

How is someone like Bob Dylan going to write a book that purports to explore The Philosophy of Modern Song? Such a title seems to suggest an academic approach to analyzing songwriting. Dylan may be clever, but he's no academic. It implies a study performed with discipline. As anyone who ever read his rambling autobiography Chronicles: Volume One or the liner notes of Highway 61 Revisited knows, Dylan sneers at discipline.

Review: 'Britmania: The British Invasion of the Sixties in Pop Culture'

That The Beatles changed the world is as widely known as how there's this fiery thingy in the sky called "the sun." The most obvious offshoot of the international success of four British lads was all the English groups that went global in their wake: not just critical dah-lings like the Stones, Who, Kinks, and Animals, but also cuddlier fave raves like Herman's Hermits, The Dave Clark Five, Peter and Gordon, and Petula Clark. But the influence went deeper, farther, and weirder than that, as shaggy, buck-toothed, often incongruously posh British characters began invading American sitcoms, comics, dopey beach movies, cartoons, bath products, and pretty much everything else an ad-man could imagine. The British Invasion was a siege fought and won in the record shops, but its aftershocks rattled everything everywhere.