Thursday, January 8, 2009

01-08-09: Hey It's Just Too Bad That He Had To Go And Fall For A Girl Who Doesn't Care For Him At All

A dear friend recently tipped me to the cult of Scott Walker, originally one of the Walker Brothers in the 60s (none of whom were brothers or named Walker).   I looked at a trailer of a documentary on Scott Walker and I now feel the need to get everything by him I can.

The stray bits of his oeuvre that I have include his reading of Randy Newman's "I Don't Want To Talk About It Anymore."  It's off the excellent compilation On Vine Street: The Early Songs Of Randy Newman, and like most of the songs, this one was never recorded by Randy Newman.

These songs seem more emotionally direct than many of Randy Newman's later songs, in which he often inhabits a character or does some sort of satire. Yet, it's still a very clever and moving song.  It was recorded by the Walker Brothers in the mid-60s, and the same exact recording was re-released a few years later under Scott Walker's name.

The most familiar version is by Dusty Springfield off her Dusty In Memphis album.  Which led me to find a recent Shelby Lynn recording off her Dusty tribute album.  

Finally, I hunted down a version by Jerry Butler,  who with Curtis Mayfield,  was one of the original Impressions.  He was, of course, known as the "Ice Man" and later became a force in Chicago politics, eventually serving as an alderman.  Growing up there in the 80s, I enjoyed seeing this dignified man with white hair and a bow tie, and given that many of his corrupt colleagues had names like "Fast Eddy", the "Ice Man" was someone all Chicagoans could be proud of.

Speaking of my 80s childhood, I recently stumbled across "Pretty In Pink" on cable and it reminded me of the title song. The Psychedelic Furs re-recorded it for the movie, but I agree with the consensus that the original is far better, so it is here.  I also found a nice acoustic version they did on the BBC near the end of their career.

There are many cover versions of this song--most of them, in my estimation, terrible.  I found a great one by a Brooklyn musician named Ariel Aparicio, which ends by blending the chorus of the Furs' later hit "Heartbreak Beat". Very cool.

There is a very rare version, unreleased, a live solo acoustic by Elvis Costello in the mid 80s that I tried very, very hard to find.  It's supposed to be a little more melancholy and amazing, but I could not find it anywhere.  And I'd be embarrassed to admit just how hard I looked (several file sharing services, ebay, underground record stores, etc), especially as this playlist is peppered with songs both unreleased, out of print or otherwise hard to find.  Well, one day...

We have to settle for another Elvis cover, here doing Bob Dylan's "I Threw It All Away."  That's preceded by Bob's own "New Morning", off his unfairly maligned "domestic" period of the early 70s.

Another set of repeating songs: Bonnie "Prince" Billy's haunting "I See A Darkness", as well as Johnny Cash's cover from his late Rick Rubin period, with the songwriter providing back-up vocals.

In the middle of all this, like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a tall glass of milk, the silky smooth early 80s Smokey Robinson hit "Being With You."

More recent stuff:  "Graveyard Girl" by M83 off last year's excellent Saturdays=Youth album. It sounds like it could have been in its own 80s teen movie.  2 versions of Santogold's "Lights Out", one a very cool Diplo remix.  Lykke Li's "Dance, Dance, Dance" and "Official" off last year's new Q Tip album, "The Renaissance".  Recorded months before it was official, "My President" by Young Jeezy with Nas.

GZA's outstanding album Pro Tools came out last year as well. Here I've included "Firehouse" and the old school soul track it samples, "Let's Prove Them Wrong" by Debbie Taylor.

2 small and very short musical curios:  "All Is Loneliness" by Moondog, from the 50s. Moondog was a blind avant-garde musician, often homeless, who palled around with a lot of the jazz giants of his time. But his music seems unclassifiable.  

And finally, the same friend who turned me on to Scott Walker once gave me a rare set of Nebraska-era Bruce Springsteen recordings called Fistfull Of Dollars,  which includes the song "Riding Horse".  It seems to stop a couple times, with the sound of a tape recorder shutting off. Yet its lo-fi sound is perfect for a love song about a very tall, and probably imaginary, woman.