Showing posts with label The Wayback Machine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Wayback Machine. Show all posts

Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Wayback Machine: Naked Raygun - Throb, Throb

Chicago punk never really made a national name for itself. I understand, I don't take it personally. We never had the trendy nihilism of the LA scene, or New York's CGBG's hookups, never mind the authenticity of London punks or the artiness of Manchester. But Chicago did come up with a few corkers in its time, bands that are too often overlooked. Though few have as much love in their heart for band like the Effigies as I, it's hard to argue that Chicago's biggest punk act wasn't Naked Raygun. They once described their sound as "aggressive, melodic, intense, chanty music... bat cave funk, zydeco bop, twist and ground flailer, closet Motown", which probably sums it up as well as anything.


Raygun was one of those punk bands that had something for everyone. Oh wait, no, not something for everyone in that Clash "oh look, they write love songs and dance hits too" kinda way. I mean they had something for every punk niche. They were loud, chanting and angry enough for the hardcore kids, their attitudes towards sex would please the straight-edgers and they were weird and challenging enough for the pretentious punks and students. Not only did they hit all the punk highlights, but these were huge fucking midwestern dudes playing loud, angry music in a way that even pulled in some of your dive-bar hard rock fans. As my grandfather would say, they were the real deal.

Monday, October 17, 2011

The Wayback Machine: Bob Dylan - Self-Ttiled

"Folk songs are evasive - the truth about life, and life is more less a lie, but then again that's exactly the way we want it to be." - Bob Dylan
At this point it's almost impossible to know who or what Bob Dylan is or ever was. Mystic, poet, singer, sage, revolutionary, reactionary, wise man, fool, bomb-thrower, bible-thumper, washout and phoenix - all of these are hats that he's worn at one time or another. Often at the same time. Even the ones that contradict the other ones. As a public figure he's forever eluding your grasp, leaving behind brilliant music but no stable essence of who he is.


Standing here, on the far side of Dylan's massive career, knowing the seismic impact he would have on both popular music and American culture as a whole, it's almost impossible to put oneself into the mind of a listener first hearing his debut album in 1962 (not that there were many of them). Before he sang for Martin Luther King and dated Joan Baez, before he wrote anthems that defined a decade, before the drugs and the Beatles and the Pennebaker film, Bob Dylan, nee Robert Zimmerman was just a folk singer, a Minnesota boy with big ideas who played the New York clubs and managed to catch a break. He was signed to Columbia Records by John Hammond who saw his talent and told him "We're gonna bring you in and record you, we'll see what happens."