Doom & Gloom Dispatch #45: The Feedback & The Damage Done
Doom & Gloom Dispatch #45: The Feedback & The Damage Done
The Malombo Jazz Makers, Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Stars of the Lid, Sonic Youth, Richard Davis
The Malombo Jazz Makers - Down Lucky’s Way
Barely a week has gone by where I haven’t spun this one at least twice since grabbing it this past spring. Recorded in 1969 but unreleased/unknown until now, Down Lucky’s Way is a little hard to describe — minimal modal folk jazz? Maybe! Guitarist Lucky Ranku called it “healing music,” and that might be the most right on. The gentle but propulsive groove, the free floating melodies, the comradely interplay … it just makes you feel better. Highly highly highly recommended.
A seriously historic occasion! For me, anyway. This show, just about 30 years ago, was the the first time I saw Neil Young. The term “life-changing” is thrown around a lot, but I think it fits here. Something about Neil’s performance here sent me down the path I’m still on today, searching for sounds that made me feel the way I did that night.
What was it, exactly, that had such an impact on 14-year-old me? Hard to say three decades later, but I think it had something to do with the overall sonic experience of the concert. Neil’s guitar was so enormous and enveloping, ricocheting around the arena — almost more of a physical presence than just a sound, especially on those long abstract outros he’d lead the MG’s through, shooting wild, unnameable things directly into my veins. That’s right, Neil Young got me into pure noise. The Feedback & The Damage Done!
You might not believe it, but until recently, I hadn’t listened to the tape of the show! I guess I wanted to preserve the memory. But it’s been long enough, goddamnit! So here it is, in all its AUD glory. A pretty solid recording, actually, nicely capturing the cavernous acoustics of the venue (which was the now-demolished home of the LA Clippers, don’t ya know).
What strikes me most about the set all these years later is the downright radical interplay between Neil and legendary drummer Jim Keltner. The show came towards the end of this particular tour, and Keltner at this point seems intent on kicking his leader’s ass a little bit, throwing in daring fills that send the songs momentarily spiraling into chaos. Neil delights in these out-of-time curveballs, responding with ever-wilder solos. Amazingly, I think Keltner comes in with the beat reversed on “Down By The River” but the dude is such a pro that he makes even that sound cool.
And speaking of “Down By The River” … it was this one that was ringing in my ears for months to come following the concert. It felt almost impossibly massive, a lumbering behemoth, sinister and ecstatic all at once. Perfect. But the high points weren’t all electric; indeed, Neil’s hushed rendition of “On The Way Home” (the only time he’d play it in 1993) is a wondrous prayer, somehow bringing an arena full of people to a standstill. I held my breath with my eyes closed …
Bob Dylan - Matsushita Denki Taiikukan, Osaka Fu, Japan, February, 25, 1978
You may have heard the news — in November, The Complete Budokan 1978 will hit shelves. The (somewhat prohibitively expensive) set captures two full shows from Bob Dylan’s stand at Tokyo’s Nippon Budokan Hall, which would be chopped down for the At Budokan double LP.
I’ve been a little surprised to see more than a little disappointment in some internet circles directed towards this release. Didn’t we all decide years ago that Dylan live in ‘78 is … awesome? I guess we didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, if I had been alive and sentient when the OG Budokan came out, I probably would’ve joined the chorus of dissenters, asking once again: “What is this shit?” But it’s pretty good shit, people! Those who say the '78 tour really hit its stride later in the year after the Far East dates may have a point … I like the Japan shows, though.
Why do I like them? Well, for one thing, the “big band” arrangements really throw into relief Dylan’s melodic skills. From “To Ramona” to “One Of Us Must Know,” from “Mr. Tambourine Man” to “Shelter From The Storm,” there’s a wealth of incredible hooks, beautiful choruses, skipping reels of rhyme. And Bob — especially in Japan — really sings these songs, rarely giving into his urge to bark or shout.
Do the arrangements occasionally move into utterly cheese-tastic zones? Yeah, of course they do. But fuck it, I like that, too! It feels as though Dylan and co. are seeing just how durable these songs are, pushing them over into a particular extreme. How far can Bob’s tunes go? Pretty far, obviously. What I’m saying is … surrender to Budokan!
And why not surrender to this great audience tape from a few days prior, too? It’s got a very warm vibe, perhaps best demonstrated by that rarest of things: Dylan taking an impromptu request from the audience. “ONE TOO MANY MORNINGS, BOB!!!!” hollers a fan amidst an otherwise pin-drop silent Japanese audience. I feel like that is exactly the right song to ask for — good job, anonymous fan! As a result of his bravery, Dylan delivers the only “One Too Many Mornings” of 1978, a wonderfully weary rendition, one that builds from a slightly tentative beginning into something truly majestic. A restless hungry feeling!
Stars of the Lid - VPRO Studios, Amsterdam, Netherlands, January 17, 2002
Like a lot of you, I’ve been revisiting the Stars of the Lid discography since news broke of Brian McBride’s passing. And although I’ve described SotL as “music for the universe’s funeral” in the past, this deep dive hasn’t been depressing. The opposite, in fact!
The tired sounds that McBride and Adam Wiltzie made contain deep wells of sadness, yeah, but the albums also have a certain romance to them, even a sense of humor. That wide openness might be its greatest strength; Stars of the Lid’s music was in dialogue with the listener. It brought something to you and you gave something back — and those somethings could change every time, depending on your own state of mind. A galaxy of possibilities.
That might not make sense, I don’t know, whatever. What I’m saying is — Stars of the Lid is good for you. So listen to their records … and listen to this great Dutch radio session from the early 2000s, featuring beautiful versions of “Piano Aquieu” and “Porch.”
Sonic Youth - Freilichtbühne Loreley, St. Goarshausen, Germany, June 20, 1998
We heard embryonic versions of the Thousand Leaves material in last week’s #SonicSummer installment. Now, we can check out that same stuff in full bloom just about a year later, when Sonic Youth was taking the just-released LP around Europe. Here, they’re playing in the German countryside — in the (recommended) video of the event, I like how the editor cuts from nasty noize freakouts to peaceful visions of boats bobbing on the Rhine. Wunderbar!
For the very best live tape from this era, I’ll direct you to the Los Angeles gig from a few weeks prior, which the band has kindly made available via Bandcamp. It’s amazing (and I was there!). But this festival performance (an alterna-grab bag bill featuring the Beastie Boys and Pulp) has a nice edge to it; some of the Kim songs hearken back to the Dirty days in their feral energy, while other moments point towards the free-flow of Murray St. and Sonic Nurse. I especially dig the surging rave up that rises out of “Wildflower Soul,” with Sonic Youth still finding new textures within their now tried-and-true sound.
In the video, it’s also cool to see who’s doing what at this stage in the band's three-guitar attack; it’s often not who you think it is, with Kim regularly taking the lead. Mainly, it’s a very sweet tapestry, the players giving and taking, trading lines and riffs back and forth, jagged at times, gorgeous at others. (Im)perfect harmony!
The set is made up of Thousand Leaves and SYR numbers, with one big exception: the closing “Death Valley 69” blowout, which is as magnificently malevolent as ever, despite having been out of rotation for the past several years. It rolls into an extended feedback orgy, something slightly at odds with the bucolic outdoor setting, but radical all the same. Adventures in modern music, baby!
Bandcamp | Merch | Concert Chronology
If you played bass on both Eric Dolphy’s Out To Lunch and Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, your legacy is going to be pretty much set. But if you’re Richard Davis, who passed away earlier this month at the age of 93, those are just two high points in a career full of lofty peaks. Davis could go as far out as necessary (he teamed up with fellow upright master Reggie Workman on Pharoah Sanders’ spiritual jazz epic “The Creator Has A Master Plan”) or add a little magic as an ace session player (did you know that he’s on Born To Run and There Goes Rhymin’ Simon?). To celebrate the bassist’s life and work, here are a handful of brilliant moments to check out.
From the Doom & Gloom Archives
Hey hey, I had a few thoughts on Neil Young’s new Tonight’s The Night - Live release – you can read them over on Aquarium Drunkard. This may shock you, but I loved it. What’s there to complain about? Well, I’ll tell you. Neil left off a few tunes played during the Roxy residency, even though he had an entire extra side of vinyl to fill (he etched the Roxy logo on there instead, haha). So I’ve got those two songs for you, sourced from extremely scruffy audience recordings. Once you get past the lo-fi, they’re both great: a long “Cowgirl in the Sand,” with some crackling Neil vs. Nils guitar duels and a woozy “Losing End” highlighted by the late/great Ben Keith’s inimitable pedal steel.
Currently Reading: The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett
This Sonic Youth post brings back some memories! I caught that tour on May 16th, 1998 in Chicago, and bought that very issue of The Wire at Reckless Records the afternoon of the show. The "sweet tapestry" of "giving and taking" and "Kim taking the lead" describes my memory of them playing "Anagrama" from SYR1 very well. Off to watch that video...