Washington Phillips ~ I am Born to Preach the Gospel

So hey, I went to church today!!! Way out, right? I'm not much of a churchgoer per-say, and I have my misgivings about god and jeebus and allah and jewish god and stuff (well, not so much about those cats as the people who are really into them), but sometimes I'll admit, there's something comforting and rejuvenating about the whole going to church experience. Getting wise, ya know? Makes you feel like Jake and Elwood, and if you're lucky, Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ, you too may just see the light once in a while.

I didn't really see the light today at the service, but I did light a candle just like Dewey Cox's mama once suggested, and that's always fun. Plus I got to see architecture that's much older and more beautiful than the majority of things in America-town (Lincoln Cathedral, highly recommended). All in all, I give the day an A for "seeing stuff" and a meh for "getting down with religious enlightenment."

Admittedly, some jive ass preacher up there talking to me about heaven and hell doesn't usually move me.... more often than not, church services just make me feel awkward, like a spy who just snuck into a Stonecutters meeting without having had a Stonecutter father or saving a Stonecutter's life. In that way, I'm a lot like Joliet Jake. But I don't think this detracts from my aura of God-tasticness. Like Jake, I also prefer to get my enlightenment on via the musical route. He had James Brown rockin the shit hard up in the pulpit, I have old Washington Phillips recordings.

This stuff is mysterious. Mysterious, and painfully... hauntingly beautiful. When, long ago, somebody recommended that I listen to some gospel music from the 20s, I consented, but mostly because that description was so far from what I'd been listening to at that point in my life that I was curious. I had no point of reference, no expectations. The sum total of gospel records I'd heard at that time were either soul singers like Sam Cooke or Aretha covering a gospel tune once in a while or Dylan covers. And the 20s? I knew that they were roaring, and that Babe Ruth did stuff. That was about it.

But the sixteen surviving Washington Phillips recordings immediately hit me. This music is the stuff of legend. Of human beings being perfectly human, and getting that idea down on record somehow. Singing with total conviction, about things they believe absolutely in. 100% realness... like, Wesley Willis, but with completely different sonic properties and no bestiality. Washington's voice is real, and his music is not only real, but totally unique. Today, people literally have no clue what the hell this guy was doing to illicit that sound, though there are many conflicting theories.

The problem with a lot of contemporary christian music, is that it sucks balls. And the general suckiness leads to you not wanting to listen to "jesus" tunes. But sometimes, a song is just perfect, and regardless of your religious beliefs or lack thereof, it's undeniably dig-able (think: stuff Johnny Cash sang sometimes, Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode, Paul Newman singing Plastic Jesus on guitar in that sad scene from Cool Hand Luke). Even if you don't believe in the theology behind it, you'd be a cold, souless sumbitch to not feel these songs. So, without further ado, here are some more such songs: the 16 surviving recordings of Washington Phillips.

Some tidbits:

Fans of Will Oldham music or Herzog films may recognize a track or two. The man has garnished quite a posthumous following/legend. Also, for what it's worth, Phish covers Phillips a lot.

I'm told that there are newer master recordings of this stuff floating around on CD and vinyl, though I haven't heard them. I doubt they'll sound better than this vinyl rip. The scratches add a little bit of human touch... or something.

Earlier today I was involved in a conversation regarding "music that stands the test of time." I'll tell you, this stuff will sound better in 2020 than it sounded in 1920. Not a lot of artists I can think of right now who fit into that unique category.

I was driving home early Sunday morning through Bakersfield
Listening to gospel music on the colored radio station
And the preacher said, "You know you always have the Lord by your side"
And I was so pleased to be informed of this
that I ran twenty red lights in his honor
Thank you Jesus, thank you lord

Greg Cartwright ~ American Hero

First and foremost, let me apologize for not updating this frequently. I'm notoriously useless when it comes to stuff, and add in the fact that obtaining consistent internet in England is about as hard as my dick yada yada olsen twins fill in the blank.

So I recently (as in, mere moments ago) decided to play the game where you're exhausted and hungry and need some sustenance, but you gotta get really creative with it. As in, you're all out of beer, but since your paycheck malfunctioned for the last 4 months, you have no money to buy beer (don't worry, i'm gettin like 6 grand on the 30th... I'll live). When you want some cocktails that pack a Guinness worthy punch to the mind and gut, there aren't a lot of options open. Which is why you try to make hot chocolate with milk and the cadburys mix and the bottle of skol and it fails, but at least it's probably still doing a body good the way milk does. So I'm not really in need of nourishment anymore, but on the downside, I forgot what I wanted to post about.

Ok, remembered... oh man am I gonna drop some foreign shit on you guys. Like, smoking the hooka with the Kazaki bollywood enthusiast with the Turkish girl sitting on your lap as you throw down hard on the bottles of rose and listen to his playlist and terrify the belgian and indian neighbor chicks with your outlandish drunkenness and listen to the soundtrack of Dhoom2...

Wait... I don't want to get too out there too quick. I already went with Kino last time, and my faculties aren't operating well enough to post stuff recommended to me in a drunken haze, no matter how awesome I think they are. Also, I still don't think this blog is ready to feature an Andrew W.K. tribute article.

So we'll do this instead. A few years back, the greatest man in music today, Greg Cartwright stopped by a radio station in Milwaukee to shoot the shit with one of the DJs and to spin some records. He brought along his giant box of old 45s that he'd been saving since he was a little guy, and which basically shaped his musical identity (which, as anybody who knows the dude can tell you, is the perfect musical identity).

This is Greg Cartwright, in two parts, playing and talking about a whole butt ton of old garage, rockabilly, soul, doo-wap 45 tracks, and I can say without hyperbole, that this is probably my favorite ever compilation. In terms of variety, scratchy old school goodliness, and just generally enjoyable VINYL soundingness, this mix just slays. It'll give you alternate identities for Buck Owens, Ike and Tina singing about getting high (shocker), alternate-evolution psychosis, and it'll cure your asthma too (points for any non-Dargan that picks up on that ref).

Greg Cartwright Radio Show Pt 1Greg Cartwright Radio Show Pt 2

Hopefully I didn't fuck up the upload. If I did, just yell at me via internet and I'll try to fix it.

If you don't listen to Jay Reatard every day, you should get with the times fucker. No wonder, he was Greg Oblivian's boy. RIP.

Gotta throw out the meth thought: In the penultimate scene of Roadhouse... when Dalton had a clear shot at Wesley... and he was deeply and emotionally debating whether or not to do him in... would the ending have been better if he'd just have snuffed him out with one clean blow and walked away? The way it was filmed, the option must've entered the director's thoughts. Sure, we wouldn't have gotten the "a polar bear fell on me line," but damn. IMO that would've been the most badass possible ending to the already most badass movie ever filmed.

Кино ~ Черный альбом (1990)

AKA: Kino ~ Chyorny (1990)

This post brought to you by a guy who knows how hard it is to search the internet for something

who’s name and pronunciation are impossibilities for English speaking keyboards.

About a year ago a friend of mine with a city for a last name showed me a very appealing youtube video of a band playing a song. I couldn’t read what the band or song were, since neither I nor my computer seemed to recognize certain Russian letters, but the music contained therein immediately grabbed hold of my brain banana and sent me off on a frantic and arduous search to figure out what the hell was going on here. To quickly summarize what I’m talking about, it was 80s guitar pop in the mold of The Cure, Go-Betweens, Flock of Seagulls, etc. Only it was a lot more Russian. Call me naive or uncultured, this almost immediately makes songs better for me. Instead of picking apart lyrics and being cynical about them, you can let a shroud of eastern bloc style mystery wash over you with the music. It means what you want it to (cliché bullshit alert!). Honestly though, this song was like experiencing Suedehead without having to shake your head at Morrissey trying to pass off some repetitive nothings as legitimate lyrics.

So, going back to where we left off, this is why I desperately wanted to find more music by this band “Кино.” And initially (see: for about a year) I wasn’t able to uncover much. Maybe it’s cause I was younger and didn’t know as much about googlewebs and the mediafire. Maybe it’s because apparently Кино is a catch-all Russian word for cinema/film that heralds mixed google results (footnote 1), or because there’s a Brit prog rock group that was hogging up the attempted English word searches. What I did find out was that the band, Кино́ (or Kino for the English folk who don’t prefer the backwards Ns) was a guitar pop quartet from Leningrad who were active back from ’81 to ’91. Apparently they amassed a pretty sizable following in the motherland, but never really made their way stateside (I can't imagine why). The more I tried to get a hold of some of their music though, the more obstacles I kept running into. Were the links all hidden beneath Russian cold war codes? Didn't Hasselhoff and Rocky IV combine to end that shit back in the 80s?? I mean, I know the band had been defunct for a long time by this point, but I’d have expected at least some items for sale on Amazon. No dice. So… periodic searches continued.

I’ll skip the rest of the details, as I don’t want to get into some Tolkienesque thing here (which, trust me, this mission was just as complicated and grueling as melting a ring in Mordor), but suffice to say, boom. Problem solved. I gots a Кино album, and now you can have it too via this LINK. Their 1990 album, whose name I'm not even gonna try to confusedly write again, confirmed my initial suspicion: Kino were a really really good band, and I will make every possible effort in the future to hear more of their stuff.

Additional thoughts:

Hahahahahaha, this band was part of the "Perestroika" era in Russia. So I guess Donatello wasn’t just making up musical genres in that movie.

Man, I want to hook up with Russian chicks. I’ll impress them by pulling this out of my album collection. They’ll probably look like that google result chick, which, though dick-breakable, is hot (footnote 1).

Footnote 1:

Google image results for Кино

1. a tough manly looking broad with big cans scowling really hard at the camera

2-15. film related shit

16. it is revealed that Кино́ stole their look from young Bono and Echo and the Bunnymen. Fashion’s weird and cyclical… I predict this ish will be back in style w/in 5 years.