Doom & Gloom Dispatch #24: Please Take My Advice
Kuku Sebsibe, Prairiewolf, Brenda Sauter, William Tyler & Mary Lattimore, Neil Young & The Santa Monica Flyers
As spring slowly arrives, this marvelous collection of Ethiopian pop from the early 1980s has been constantly spinning in my house. The Addis Ababa-born Kuku Sebsibe’s beautiful vocals float over classic Ethio soul/jazz backing — elegant keys, breezy brass and melodic bass all wafting through the mix. Though it leans towards the gentler side of things for the most part, things do get fairly funky from time to time. Released on the excellent Little Axe label, it feels like a necessary breath of fresh air.
Perhaps you’ve heard some distant howls, but now it’s official — Prairiewolf’s self-titled debut long-player is coming out on May 5, 2023 on the mighty Centripetal Force Records. You can go over to Raven Sings The Blues to check out “Roadside Bandit Type” right now!
RSTB Says: There’s an axis of psychedelic jazz, pastoral nodes of the German Progressive pantheon, and the elevated eclecticism of Sandy Bull. “Roadside Bandit Type” stretches between these leylines, finding its footing in a fragrant fog of keys and navigating through the dawnlight haze with rhythm and texture as compass and calculation.
Hell yeah. We’re taking digital pre-orders and you can order the vinyl and/or CD starting on May 5.
Who the hell is Prairiewolf? This is the band I’ve been playing bass in over the past year or so with Stefan “Golden Brown” Beck and Jeremy “The Heat Warps” Erwin. It’s been a good time and I think the album turned out great …
Here’s a quick descrip: Recorded 8,000 feet above sea level in Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, Prairiewolf’s first long-player offers listeners a fresh and free-flowing slice of cosmic / organic Americana — spiritual instrumentals driven by Fender Rhodes, lap steel, Mellotron, guitar, synth, bass and an assortment of vintage drum machines. Sandy Bull communing with Alice Coltrane, Tangerine Dream finding common ground with Don Cherry, sweet kosmische jams rising out of the Continental Divide.
Wild Carnation - Live on Three Chord Monte with Joe Belock on WFMU, November 3, 2009
Over on Aquarium Drunkard this week, I spoke with Brenda Sauter, bassist/vocalist for The Feelies / The Willies / The Trypes — and Wild Carnation! The latter band’s debut LP, Tricycle, is being reissued in expanded / remastered form for Record Store Day this month — the first time it’s been on vinyl, if you can believe it. Tricycle is definitely worth your time and money; I’ve been into it for a while now, but the remaster makes it sound bigger and better than ever. If you’re a Feelies fan (and who in their right mind isn’t a Feelies fan???), you gotta get it.
As Brenda mentions during our chat, Wild Carnation still pops up to play shows from time to time and it sounds like they’ve got more than enough material for a new LP. Good news! In the meantime, check out this short-but-sweet Three Chord Monte set, live on WFMU. Catch the rising tide!
William Tyler & Mary Lattimore - Electric Appalachia
I’ve been playing William Tyler’s new live LP Secret Stratosphere more or less constantly since it came out a few weeks ago — I think it might be perfect. But I had to give it a rest to get into the guitarist’s recent collab with harpist extraordinaire Mary Lattimore. Electric Appalachia was conceived as a “live soundtrack” for Eric Dawson’s silent film of the same name: “a meditation on electricity and modernity in East Tennessee.” We don’t get to dig the visuals in this WNYC presentation, but the music is more than enough; as you might expect from Tyler and Lattimore, there are some extremely gorgeous moments, but also plenty of synth-ed out weirdness. Would it be cool if Electric Appalachia was released properly? Yes, yes it would be very cool.
Neil Young & The Santa Monica Flyers - Royal Festival Hall, London, England, November 10, 1973
Somewhere Under The Rainbow, one of the latest additions to Neil’s Official Bootleg Series, comes out today. It captures an incendiary 1973 performance at the Rainbow in London on the tequila-soaked Tonight's The Night tour. (Did I have anything to do with this release? Well, Neil & co. shared my Doom & Gloom post about the show a few years back, so uhhh maybe?) Don't get your hopes up for a soundboard — Somewhere Under The Rainbow is the same dusty audience tape we all know and love, though gussied up a little bit sonically. Whatever, it’s classic shit and a very worthy addition to the official canon.
Neil Says: I was havin’ a fantastic time. It was dark but it was good. That was a band with a reason. We were on a mission. That’s maybe as artistic a performance as I’ve given. I think there was more drama in Tonight’s The Night because I knew what I was doing to the audience. But the audience didn’t know if I knew what I was doing. I was drunk outta my mind on that tour. Hey—you don’t play bad when you’re drunk, you just play real slow. You don’t give a shit. Really don’t give a shit.
The Rainbow is not enough, of course! So here’s another dusty audience tape from a few days later, when (by popular demand?) Neil returned to London for another trip into the ditch, the final night of the tour. The quality is actually just a notch below the Rainbow recording — and the set itself is a total killer, of course. The Santa Monica Flyers were really hitting their wasted stride at this point, Ben Keith’s outrageously lonesome steel guitar blending beautifully with Neil’s Telecaster, Nils Lofgren adding elegant piano and leads, Billy and Ralph getting funky in the background. What a great sound — and hey, they don’t play “Tonight’s The Night” twice on this particular evening. The play it three times. Open up the tired eyes and take a trip down to Miami Beach, ladies and gentlemen.
From The Doom & Gloom Archives
Sparklehorse - Academy 3, Manchester, England, July 13, 2003
Not many would think of Sparklehorse’s music as being singalong fodder, but this crowd of adoring Mancunians certainly did – and far from it being a distracting element here, it adds an incredible sense of warmth, community and intimacy to the set. Such fragile songs, sung softly by a crowd, alone together. Linkous himself sounds audibly touched. One can only hope that in his brighter moments, he was able to realize what a profound effect his songwriting had on his fans. Listen as he leads his audience in the final chorus of “Homecoming Queen” – it’s something else. Like the man said, it’s a sad an beautiful world, and Linkous made it a little more beautiful while he was here. RIP, Mark. Note: I’m fairly certain I received this recording from the taper himself, but I don’t seem to have his email address saved anywhere. If you’re out there and this is your recording, all credit where credit’s due – and thanks for capturing such an amazing night for us to hear.
Currently Reading: How Birds Sleep by David Obuchowski and Sarah Pedry