625. volunteers

Call Volunteers (the song) Jefferson Airplane‘s punk rock moment, a short, sharp revved up call for genuine revolution at a time when such actually seemed possible. That is, if your hair was long and your soul experienced, and you were one of maybe four hundred thousand standing out in a muddy field one August morning in 1969 between downpours. Volunteers (the album) isn’t half band either.

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46. The Solid Time Of Change

Installment #46 of the Solid Time of Change aired on Saturday September 16th (c/o CiTR.FM.101.9).

Youtube playlist (not entirely accurate).

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 Forty-Six of the journey went as follows (38-29):

  • Donovan – hurdy gurdy man
  • Aphrodite’s Child – the four horsemen
  • Aphrodite’s Child – all the seats were occupied
  • Mothers of Invention – brown shoes don’t make it
  • Beatles – I am the Walrus
  • Genesis – dancing with the moonlit knight
  • Van Morrison – astral weeks
  • Gentle Giant – knots
  • King Crimson – 21st Century schizoid man
  • Mike Oldfield – Ommadawn [part 1]

Fresh episodes air pretty much every Saturday night, 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.

705. mea culpa

“In which David Byrne and Brian Eno step outside of the Talking Heads for a bit and, to no surprise, end up changing music forever. No, My Life in the Bush of Ghosts didn’t invent sampling (Holger Czukay was already messing around with disembodied voices inside and out of Can), but it did rather open the gates, with Mea Culpa proving ideal for heroic doses of LSD, assuming you were up to it. I wasn’t always. I recall once hearing  it at a gloomy, January dusk, a riverbank, a cold wind blowing. We were in the flight path of the local airport. I became convinced an incoming plane was crashing. But it wasn’t the plane. It was me.” (Philip Random)

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708. somewhere over the rainbow

“I first heard Bobby Blue Bland‘s take on this masterpiece of yearning wafting over a backyard barbeque sometime in the early 1990s. And it was good. I believe I was playing croquet at the time, taking it very seriously, understanding that it was far more than just a game, that it was in fact a working metaphor for the great and imponderable complexity of the universe, and man’s place in it, the games we really must play in order to reconcile it all for our small, but ever expanding brains and imaginations. I’m sure the LSD and Tequila helped.” (Philip Random)

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37. The Solid Time Of Change

Installment #37 of the Solid Time of Change aired on Saturday May-13-2017 (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.

solid-crop-37

Part Thirty-Seven of the journey went as follows:

  1. Pink Floyd – one of these days
  2. Triumvirat – Mister Ten Percent
  3. Triumvirat – million dollars
  4. Beatles – tomorrow never knows
  5. Hawkwind – silver machine
  6. Soft Machine – moon in June [excerpts]
  7. Robert Wyatt – Alifib
  8. Robert Wyatt – Alifie
  9. Robert Wyatt – little red robin hood goes riding
  10. David Bowie – quicksand
  11. Genesis – stagnation
  12. Peter Hammill – (this side of) the looking glass
  13. Van Der Graaf Generator – house with no door

Fresh episodes air pretty much every Saturday night, 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.

755. What’s Happening!?!?

In which The Byrds lay it all out for eternity, man. Because it’s 1966 and something is most definitely happening, but what!?!? (note the question and exclamation marks), What’s Happening !?!? being notable as A. David Crosby‘s first solo songwriting credit for the Byrds, and B. succinct to say the least, the whole virulent, acid drenched confusion of the times laid out in fifty-seven words or less. Not that it was a bad historical moment — more just a state of spiritual, philosophical and emotional critical mass, a sustained chain reaction of apparently conflicting beliefs, ideas, demands and feelings that was demanding an entirely fresh and conceivably radical new point of reference, man.

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788. energy fools the magician

“It took me a while to warm to what Brian Eno was up to come the later 1970s. Actually, what it took was a dose of weapons grade LSD, a small town, a brutal winter night, a bunch of people playing foosball, listening to Doobie Brothers and Steely Dan … and something had to change. I couldn’t change the people or the town or even go outside really, it was too f***ing cold. But I did have this cassette tape in my pocket that someone had recently given me. I could change the music, and inevitably, effectively, seductively, about four tracks in, energy fooled the magician, and nothing’s ever really been the same.” (Philip Random)

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870. kinder des alls galactic EDIT

The story of the Cosmic Jokers goes something like this. Germany 1973, a guy named Dieter Dierks is throwing cool parties in his studio, all musicians welcome. Just show up, gobble some acid, lay down tracks. And he gets some top players throwing in. Manuel Göttsching and Klaus Schulze of Ash Ra Tempel, Jurgen Dollase and Harold Grosskopf of Wallenstein. Later on, Dierks would do more drugs, muck around with the tapes, get his girlfriend to speak over some of it, then release it without telling anybody, or cutting them in on any royalties. Which got lawyers involved, and Cosmic Jokers relegated to the extremely rare Krautrock category. But it remains fun in a spaced and groovy sort of way.

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1005. memory of a free festival

“A story song about the day young David Jones (aka Bowie) played at a hippie free festival and got his mind blown by all the beautiful people, and probably some weapons grade 1960s LSD, because the sun machine came down toward the end, like a vision of heaven itself.  And it was good, very good, the entirety of the vast rapture that was 1969 captured in song, because man had just walked on the f***ing moon, man, so now any f***ing thing was possible. At least that’s how it felt at the time. I think. I was only ten, and many thousands of miles away, stuck in suburbia.” (Philip Random)

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