“Contrary to popular belief, Bob Dylan went electric as early as 1962 with this honest eruption of confusionism that I didn’t get to hear until the early 90s sometime when I stumbled across a cheap copy of the Biograph box set, back when everyone was doing what they were told by marketing, dumping all their vinyl, buying CDs. Thank you all for that.” (Philip Random)
Curious George were one of many solid (if messy) punk-hardcore-whatever bands slamming around Vancouver in those curious years of perpetual struggle (otherwise known as the 1980s), their cover of this rather tired Pink Floyd original driving home the point that it’s seldom the song that’s wrong, only the performance. There is nothing wrong with this performance.
XTC were never quite punk; they were too pop savvy for that. Though they were there from the beginning, tearing up facades with the best of them. So maybe just call them a damned good band who, by 1982’s double-vinyl English Settlement, were taking off in a pile of different directions uniquely their own, with Ball and Chain reminding us that they still had the pop.
Also known as as the 661 Greatest Records of the so-called Prog Rock era, the Solid Time of Change is Randophonic’s latest countdown, an overlong yet incomplete history of whatever the hell happened between 1965 and 1979 – not in all music, not even in most of it, but definitely in a bunch of it.
What is Prog Rock? Is it different from progressive rock, or for that matter, rock that merely progresses? These may seem simple questions but they are in fact doors that open unto some of the most complex enigmas of this split-atomic age. And thus we are committed to exploring them in depth with a radio journey that shall likely take us a full year complete.
Part three of our journey went as follows:
Triumvirat – The march to the Eternal City
Aphrodite’s Child – you always stand in my way
Aphrodite’s Child – do it
Renaissance – the vultures fly high
Camel – freefall
Alice Cooper – The Man with the Golden Gun
Alice Cooper – unfinished sweet
Soft Machine – a certain kind
Yes – wonderous stories
Bee Gees – Odessa (City on the Black Sea)
Led Zeppelin – ten years gone
Genesis – looking for someone
Vanilla Fudge – some velvet morning
Hawkwind – 10 seconds of forever
Hawkwind -down through the night
Quicksilver Messenger Service – the fool
Installment #4 airs Saturday, May 28 at 9pm (Pacific time) c/o CiTR.FM.101.9.
Bourbonese Qualk were early players in the so-called industrial scene, though Boggy Creek is mostly just odd. No doubt related to the movie Legend of Boggy Creek, which Philip Random never saw, but he does remember seeing the TV ad when he was a kid. “Creeped me right out.”
“Spring 1980. I first hear of a band called Joy Divison. Apparently, they’re like a new wave Doors. Which is all I need to hear. I head down to Quintessence Records prepared to pay big bucks for an import. Except, ‘Sorry,’ says the guy at the counter, ‘we’re sold out since the main guy killed himself.’ Ouch. Less than a year later, we start to hear New Order, the band that rose from those ashes – cool and eerie and sounding exactly like the future.” (Philip Random)
Everybody (or their big sister) had a copy of Cat Stevens Greatest Hits back in the day, and it was a darned good collection in a heartfelt folkie-poppy sort of way. But if you really wanted to know the depth of the Cat, you had to go to track one, side two of the albumCatch Bull At Four, the song called 18th Avenue (Kansas City Nightmare) which managed in its less than four and a half minutes to cover all manner of mood and intensity, all of it cloaked in doom and shadow and, despite the obliqueness of its lyrics, definitely going somewhere.
Fleetwood Mac have been any number of different bands in their time, not just in terms of lineup but overall sound. 1970’s Kiln House may have offered a nicely benign album cover, but the back story was altogether darker, Peter Green, the band’s main singer, songwriter, guitar god having only recently gone psychedelically AWOL,never to fully return, leaving the rest of the band left to pick up the pieces. Which they did wonderfully at first, Kiln House being the best Fleetwood Mac release of the 1970s … until Lindsey + Stevie signed on and kicked things into cocaine supernova.