In which Doug Sahm (aka Sir Douglas Quintet) finds himself in barely post Summer of Love (and madness) Haight-Ashbury (while fleeing a Texas drug bust) and gets in touch with some pretty serious vibrations. “Serious enough to percolate through the decades and finally find me in early winter 1999, stoned on some un-named island, half-seriously wondering if the world was going to end at midnight, New Years Eve. They settled me. The vibrations, that is.” (Philip Random)
In which young Frank Zappa (with help from his Mothers) files his report on the Watts Rebellion (aka riots) of August 1965, pulling no punches lyrically or musically. In fact, it’s the song that got the band signed to MGM Records in the first place, producer Tom Wilson having heard it and decided, yeah, a white blues band from LA, why the hell not? The rest is, shall we say, history.
“Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation being arguably The Greatest Album Ever assuming you don’t mind a pile of noise mixed up with your raw yet mystical guitar stylings, Kissability being the kind of nugget that would’ve torn the charts apart in a better, cooler world. But good luck with that in the Winter of Hate, which is to say, 1988. Twenty years on from the Summer of Love, and trust that it rained every f***ing day. Nothing else to do but daydream.” (Philip Random)
John Kongos, who isn’t known for much else, loops up some genuine African drumming (way before it was the thing to do) lays a groovy pop song on top and cracks the British Top 5 at a time (1971) when that was simply not an easy thing to do. Philip Random recalls first hearing it on his second trip to Britain. “Mid-90s. well on my way to getting drunk at a very old pub in Nottingham. My immediate thought was wow, somebody’s done a helluva job with that Happy Mondays song. I had it backwards, of course.”
In which the Soft Boys take a strong swipe at original Pink Floyd front man Syd Barrett’s last at least half-lucid moment (lucid enough to realize he was losing it, turning lysergically from man to vegetable). “No, it’s not up to the original. How could it be? But this list is limited to stuff I actually own, and no way am I going to pay a hundred plus bucks for a 7-inch single, what with children starving in Texas and all. Also worth noting, Underwater Moonlight, the whole Soft Boys album in question, is well worth the trouble.” (Philip Random)
Adrian Belew was the guitar phenom of the late 70s, early 80s – started with Zappa, got snagged by Bowie, moved through Talking Heads, then straight to the front of the great King Crimson resurgence of 1981. A solo album was inevitable but ultimately (inevitably) disappointing. Which doesn’t mean he didn’t leave us with at least one monster party track, the Big Electric Cat that was the cool DJ’s best friend for a good long while. “Just slap it on and watch the room go off. Even the frat boys seemed to dig it.” (Philip Random)
Randophonic 