36. The Solid Time Of Change

Installment #36 of the Solid Time of Change aired on Saturday May-6-2017 (c/o CiTR.FM.101.9).

Podcast (Solid Time begins a few minutes in). Youtube playlist (sadly inaccurate).

The Solid Time of Change is our overlong yet incomplete history of the so-called Prog Rock era – 661 selections from 1965 through 1979 with which we hope to do justice to a strange and ambitious time indeed, musically speaking.

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Part Thirty-Six of the journey went as follows:

  1. Jeff Wayne – Horsell Common + The Heat Ray
  2. Neil Diamond – Holly Holy
  3. Led Zeppelin – in the light
  4. Crosby Stills + Nash – Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
  5. Yes – your move
  6. Yes – all good people
  7. Bob Dylan – desolation row
  8. Grobschnitt – solar music [edit]

Fresh episodes air most Saturday nights, starting 11 pm (Pacific time) c/o CiTR.FM.101.9, with streaming and download options available within twenty-four hours via our Facebook page.

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809. too much of nothing

Speaking of the Basement Tapes, here we have Mr. Robert Zimmerman (aka Bob Dylan) and the band known as The Band (circa 1967) trading verses, talking about what seems to be the overall problem inherent in the downside of prolonged psychedelic (and other) amplification and expansion of one’s mind, body and soul. What do you do with all that nothing you’re feeling?  In the end, maybe just sing the blues.

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814. this wheel’s on fire

In which Julie Driscoll + Brian Auger + The Trinity  score a big deal UK hit with a then unknown Bob Dylan song concerning a burning wheel about to explode and other suitably apocalyptic stuff. The time was 1968 and it turns out the song was one of very many to emanate from what would come to be known as the  Basement Tapes, the fruit of time Mr. Dylan spent the previous year hanging out in the basement of a big pink house with the band known as The Band, just messing around, drinking wine, having loose, sloppy, sometime brilliant fun with music. And then, inevitably, tapes started to proliferate, such that some decades later, Absolutely Fabulous  (the TV show) would have itself a suitable theme song.

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827. Mozambique

 

Sometimes the true genius of Bob Dylan is revealed not via some high reaching paradox infused poetry of chaos and apocalypse (or whatever), but when he’s just casually tossing something off, like this little ditty about grooving away in exotic Mozambique, found on 1976’s Desire, his last truly necessary album of the decade, unless you had a hunger for fire and brimstone and long trains slowly coming.

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The 12 MixTapes of Christmas

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The Twelve Mixtapes of Christmas have got nothing to do with Christmas (beyond being a gift to you) and they’re not actually mix tapes, or CDs for that matter – just mixes, each 49-minutes long, one posted to Randophonic’s Mixcloud for each day of Twelvetide (aka the Twelve Days of Christmas).

The mixes are in fact remnants of an unfinished project from a few years back that had something to do with compiling a playlist for an alternative to Alternative Rock (or whatever) radio station. To be honest, we’re not one hundred percent clear about any of it because somebody spilled (what we hope is) red wine on the official transcript, thus rendering key parts illegible.

Bottom line: it’s five hundred eighty-eight minutes of music covering all manner of ground, from David Bowie to Bow Wow Wow to Tuxedomoon to Claudine Longet, Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, Captain Beefheart, Aphrodite’s Child, Tom Jones, Marilyn Manson, Ike + Tina Turner, anything and everything, as long as it’s good.

 

 

888. a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Leon Russell, everybody’s favourite underappreciated genius of the past fifty years, takes Bob Dylan’s surrealized hymn to ongoing apocalypse and renders it soulfully, gospelly, funkily (almost) fun. So much so that Dylan would be following that road himself in a few years … but first he’d have to find himself some Jesus.

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898. si tu dois partir

Wherein English folk outfit Fairport Convention take a Bob Dylan ditty, flip it into French and score a minor hit. And why not? It’s got a got a good groove and there’s no arguing with Sandy Denny‘s voice, whatever language she’s singing. From an album called Unhalfbricking that, for all its good time vibes, marked a tragic moment for the band as drummer Martin Lamble and friend Jeannie Franklyn were killed in a car accident barely two months before its release. They would carry on.

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976. blue moon

As the story goes, Bob Dylan hated us all by 1970 – his audience that is.  Which led to the four slabs of vinyl called Self Portrait in which he ambles through a weird mix of everything but the kind of music that was going to singlehandedly trigger a peoples revolution. Just ditties, sidetracks, half-assed Paul Simon and Gordon Lightfoot covers, and perhaps strangest of all, a take on Blue Moon that actually works. Because it genuinely does just sound like a lonely Jewish guy who got lost somewhere in the north country, and now he’s sitting in the dark, looking up at the second full moon in less than a month, crooning away.

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