Doom & Gloom Dispatch #14: Souvenir From A Dream
Evan Kindley, Tom Verlaine, Tom Verlaine, Tom Verlaine, Tom Verlaine
After a long absence from the music scene, Evan Kindley (formerly with The Pathways) is back with the fantastic, appropriately titled Return To Form. Kindley hadn’t gone into hiding a la Syd Barrett, he’d just taken a songwriting break that somehow stretched out 15 years. Time flies! Oh well, Evan hasn’t missed a trick; his debut solo LP is a start-to-finish winner, packed with pleasingly askew arrangements, delightful wordplay and winsome melodies. And though it’s a solo effort, the sound is often expansive, with Kindley drafting some ringers to help him fill in the frame: Franklin Bruno, Leo Goldsmith, Rebecca Schiffman, Max Bernstein, David Yourdon, Andrew Churchman and more all chip in (Full disclosure: I add my dulcet tones to a handful of tracks, too). The result is a 10-song collection that feels fresh and flowing, showcasing Evan’s unique pop sensibilities. A welcome Return!
Tom Verlaine - Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, November 21, 1997
Tributes have been pouring out since news broke of Tom Verlaine’s passing last weekend — Patti Smith’s emotional remembrance, Dean Wareham’s lovely writeup and Chris Forsyth’s appreciation have been wonderful so far. As for over here, well, Verlaine has been a Doom & Gloom favorite since before the beginning.
I got heavily into Television / Verlaine live tapes back around the turn of the century via a very active internet mailing list (at some point, my wife had to tell me she could not/would not listen to “Marquee Moon” ever again). Compared to, say, Dylan or Neil, it’s a slimmer catalog, but it was endlessly fascinating to me — not just Verlaine’s incredible guitar stylings, but his wildly idiosyncratic singing and songwriting, too. An original in a sea of same-ness, to say the least.
Anyway! I’ve shared a LOT of Verlaine rarities over the years, but I’m digging through some things that haven’t made it to these pages just yet (at least I think, hey, I’ve been doing this a long time). First up, we’ve got this terrific duo recording of Tom and his longtime guitar foil Jimmy Rip opening for Sonic Youth in late 1997. They did this instrumental stuff off and on for many years, letting us bask in the unadorned beauty of Verlaine’s guitar work. It seems to me that here he’s enjoying the larger space at Avery Fisher Hall, letting the notes float out over the crowd. When he and Rip drift into a long, luminous version of Warm & Cool’s “Spiritual” at the end … well, it’s about as gorgeous as it gets.
(And hey, we can’t check this tape out without checking out the subsequent Sonic Youth set from the same evening, can we? No! This was one of those great primarily instrumental pre-Thousand Leaves sets. Guitar Futurism!)
Photo: Jimmy Rip
Tom Verlaine - Bloomsbury Theatre, London, England, May 5, 1990
Television’s first stabs at greatness are well-documented, from the Neon Boys to the Ork Loft to the Eno demos. One thing that’s missing, however, is any trace of Tom Verlaine as a solo act circa 1973. After the Neon Boys dissolved, he played a few open mics at spots like Gerdes Folk City and Reno Sweeney. This wasn’t a folkie thing, though.
“I decided to play the sets like I had a whole electric band behind me,” Verlaine recalled. “So I just went in with an electric guitar and turned it up. They really hated it, [but] Richard Lloyd was there and he liked it.”
Tom didn’t really pursue this solo setting much in the years to come — except in 1990, when he embarked on a tour all on his lonesome, armed with just an acoustic guitar. It’s not like it was back in the East Village, but the live tapes from the era give us a tantalizing glimpse of Tom Verlaine: solo troubadour.
I think this London gig is the best quality recording I’ve heard, and it’s a very cool listen. He doesn’t bust out stripped down versions of old Television classics (I would like to hear him do “Venus” like that, though), instead concentrating on the then-new LP The Wonder and other assorted solo numbers. Unsurprisingly, he’s not exactly a chatty cathy onstage; his solo presence is enigmatic but warm, bringing the audience into a calm, but not-entirely mellow space. My favorite part is the dreamlike hush of “I Am Daylight,” an inner monologue accompanied by a simply strummed guitar figure. A peaceful piece. And stick around for Verlaine’s oddball rendition of “I Walk The Line,” a tip of the hat from one Man in Black to another.
Tom Verlaine - Cooky’s, Frankfurt, Germany, April 6, 1987
More Verlaine! I’ve posted this one before, but it was at least a decade (or more) ago, and it deserves a little more love. Any of the 1987 Verlaine shows I’ve heard deserve a little more love, really — I think of that year as the culmination of Tom’s musical searchings up to that point in his career. There should be an official live album from ‘87, I think it would blow a lot of minds.
For one thing, the band here was a real band, as much as Television ever was. Patti Smith’s drummer Jay Dee Daugherty was behind the kit, Fred Smith was on bass, and Jimmy Ripp filled in ably on second guitar, adding rich textures behind Verlaine’s flights of fancy. This recording doesn’t sound like a solo artist with an anonymous group — it sounds like a cohesive unit, the songs often blending into one another, seamless and sleek.
The first half of the set is focused on tighter-than-tight rhythmic interplay — guitar riffs bouncing off one another, bass and drums locked in a death grip. Verlaine’s guitar sounds gorgeous here — much more melodic, playful and lyrical than the Television days. The second half sees the Verlaine Band loosening up a bit, stretching out on “Kingdom Come” and the old warhorse “Marquee Moon.” Tom’s solo on the latter is something to behold! Things finish off with blazing renditions of “Glory,” “Psychotic Reaction,” and “Red Leaves.” Not sure if Verlaine says more than a few words to the crowd throughout, but he’s said enough.
Tom Verlaine - The Roxy, West Hollywood, California, October 17, 1981
Something very special to close out our Tom Verlaine appreciation week (though there will probably be more next week!). An extremely kind anonymous donor passed along this previously uncirculated soundboard recording of Verlaine on his very first solo tour. A treasure from start to finish, with Tom, Jimmy Rip, Fred Smith and Jay Dee Daugherty in incredibly fine form on the Sunset Strip. Limited time lossless upload, so grab it now.
It's a fierce performance, showcasing the best of Verlaine's solo career up to that point — his self-titled debut and Dreamtime. Daugherty is a different drummer than Billy Ficca, but his rock-solid rhythmic sensibility keeps things grounded marvelously. And let's hear it for Fred Smith. An understated presence, maybe, but you get the feeling that he truly understands Verlaine's music and knows how to support it perfectly.
Meanwhile, Tom and Rip get into it on their guitars, clearly having a blast as they blast off into orbit. For me, the high point is the eight-minute, two-chord "Breakin' In My Heart" with Verlaine erupting into an ecstatic solo, just riding an immense, unstoppable wave. Wow! "Marquee Moon" is unbelievable too, naturally; the moment where everyone else drops out, leaving Verlaine for a few minutes of unaccompanied improv is breathtaking. And as if to suggest that it's not all that serious, they follow it up with the goofiest song in their repertoire, "Yonki Time," leading into a raucous version of "Wild Thing." You make my heart sing ...
From The Doom & Gloom Archives
Kingdom Come: The Lost Television Album
Don’t get too excited – but get excited! This is just my own compilation of Television tunes that didn’t make it onto either Marquee Moon or Adventure, but that the band played live from 1975-1978. And sadly, Paul Simon does not appear anywhere, at least as far as I can tell – I just love that photo too much not to post it. What were they talking about? Anyway! Tom Verlaine and Co. had more than enough good material to go around in those days – these cast-offs are good to great, even if the recording quality sometimes leaves a little to be desired. There are epic jams (of course), but also some interesting detours, like the country rock of “Come On In,” the weird psychodrama of “Poor Circulation,” and the song I’m convinced would’ve been Television’s radio hit, the infernally catchy “O Mi Amore.” A couple tracks here would be reworked for Verlaine’s solo career (though “Kingdom Come” is not the same tune as on his self-titled debut), while others would be discarded completely. Despite the sometimes lo-fi nature of these audience recordings, this comp is still an essential piece of the Television puzzle. Turn it on, turn it up.
Currently Reading: Marquee Moon by Bryan Waterman