I
recently watched Under African Skies,
the documentary about the recording of Graceland
which has been touring the film festival circuit over the past 18 months or so.
The film marks the 25th anniversary of the album’s release, and has
the usual talking heads interspersed with archive footage from the recording
sessions.
One of the big talking points was Simon’s stealthily assembled recording
sessions in South Africa, bypassing the cultural boycott of the country imposed
by the ANC. It’s funny that the music industry often criticises Queen for
playing concerts in South Africa at this time (a topic that really annoys Brian
May when brought up in interviews), yet Paul Simon is almost universally
applauded for collaborating with South African musicians and recording part of
this album there. Did he collaborate or did he exploit them? He seems to have
given co-writing credit wherever it’s due, but surely he seems to have become
much, much richer - both financially and artistically - than them as a result.
I’m not sure which side of the fence I sit, and I don’t really like to tarnish
art with politics, but the whole thing reeks of a certain duplicity. What isn’t
in doubt is whether this is a good album or not. I think it’s fantastic, and
it’s a refreshing change from the sludge of mid-‘80s solo albums released by
rock stars from the ‘70s. I’ve loved the album ever since I saw it covered
during the first series of Classic Albums.
It quickly became a favourite, throughout college and university, and I’d
always try to push onto other people.
If I had any criticisms at all, it would be the title of the song that lends
its name to the album. Although it’s a fantastic song, and one of the album’s
highlights, it just doesn’t fit right hearing about America, New York City and
Elvis’ home when the rest of the album is so rooted in South Africa - both
lyrically and musically. In the documentary Under
African Skies, Simon recounts that it also didn’t make sense to him at the
time, and that he always meant to the change the title of the song at least,
but that no matter what he tried he just couldn’t change those words that fit
so well. Perhaps it’s the counterpoint, between the subject matter of America
and South Africa that actually makes it so interesting.
A couple of years ago I went to see Simon & Garfunkel in concert. I don’t
know what I was expecting but they totally exceeded my expectations, and to
this day it remains one of the best gigs I’ve been to. Halfway through their
set, Paul Simon walked offstage for a short break while Art Garfunkel remained
on stage with the band. I started to lose interest after he followed a
fantastic version of Bridge Over Troubled
Water with a new song he had recently written. Right then, as my guard was
down, and I thought I’d witnessed the peak of their performance with songs like
Old Friends and The Sound Of Silence, Paul Simon walked back onstage to do his solo
piece and give Garfunkel a short break. He walked out to the middle of stage
and pointed across to the piano-accordionist that had suddenly appeared, who in
turn started the opening notes to The Boy
In The Bubble. I’d never have believed I would have seen Paul Simon perform
this song, so it was a very happy and welcome surprise.
Hit: You Can Call Me Al
Hidden Gem: The Boy In The Bubble
Welcome to Vinyl Stylus, a blog about good music, and what makes music good.
Here, you'll find Rocks In The Attic - a disc by disc journey through my entire vinyl collection.
In a world full of TV talent shows, greatest hits CDs and manufactured pop, take a stroll through something that's good for your ears and good for your soul.
Here, you'll find Rocks In The Attic - a disc by disc journey through my entire vinyl collection.
In a world full of TV talent shows, greatest hits CDs and manufactured pop, take a stroll through something that's good for your ears and good for your soul.
Showing posts with label 1986. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1986. Show all posts
Monday, August 27, 2012
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Rocks In The Attic #117: Peter Gabriel - ‘So’ (1986)
I
really should listen to more Peter Gabriel. His voice is awesome, but for some reason even though I have a fair bit of early Genesis on vinyl - plus their
entire back catalogue on my iPod - their brand of Englishness doesn’t connect
with me as much as, say, Pink Floyd.
I saw a foreign pressing of this record the other week in the sales racks at Real Groovy. A Russian version, with all writing - bizarrely even Peter Gabriel’s name I think - in Russian. There wasn’t anything on the record in English, and nothing that would lead a non-Russian speaker that it was a record by Peter Gabriel - unless you recognised his photo on the cover (designed by Factory Records’ Peter Saville). I should have bought it simply for its curiosity value, but left it there. I’ll have to manage with my normal English version.
Sledgehammer is a song that reminds me of my youth, and of family holidays. My Dad loves the track, and I think most people loved it at the time because of its groundbreaking video. I haven’t seen that in a few years, but the song is a classic - a little bit funky, a little bit menacing, and a choice of arrangement and orchestration that on paper doesn’t sound too great, but completely fits when it blasts out of the speakers.
The album is co-produced (alongside Gabriel) by Daniel Lanois - better known for his work with Brian Eno amongst a whole raft of other notable production credits. It’s probably because of this that the album doesn’t sound as dated as it should. It’s slightly more experimental and cutting edge than most ‘rock’ albums of the mid-80s, and even though the record is peppered with synthesisers it doesn’t make the same kind of mistakes that cheeseballs like Paul McCartney were making with synths around the same time.
There’s a whole list of guest appearances on So - the most famous being the duet with Kate Bush, but also showing up are The Police’s Stewart Copeland, PP Arnold, Wayne Jackson from Stax Records’ Memphis Horns, Youssou N’dour, Simple Minds frontman Jim Kerr, and Larry Klein (better known as the producer and former husband of Joni Mitchell).
Hit: Sledgehammer
Hidden Gem: Big Time
I saw a foreign pressing of this record the other week in the sales racks at Real Groovy. A Russian version, with all writing - bizarrely even Peter Gabriel’s name I think - in Russian. There wasn’t anything on the record in English, and nothing that would lead a non-Russian speaker that it was a record by Peter Gabriel - unless you recognised his photo on the cover (designed by Factory Records’ Peter Saville). I should have bought it simply for its curiosity value, but left it there. I’ll have to manage with my normal English version.
Sledgehammer is a song that reminds me of my youth, and of family holidays. My Dad loves the track, and I think most people loved it at the time because of its groundbreaking video. I haven’t seen that in a few years, but the song is a classic - a little bit funky, a little bit menacing, and a choice of arrangement and orchestration that on paper doesn’t sound too great, but completely fits when it blasts out of the speakers.
The album is co-produced (alongside Gabriel) by Daniel Lanois - better known for his work with Brian Eno amongst a whole raft of other notable production credits. It’s probably because of this that the album doesn’t sound as dated as it should. It’s slightly more experimental and cutting edge than most ‘rock’ albums of the mid-80s, and even though the record is peppered with synthesisers it doesn’t make the same kind of mistakes that cheeseballs like Paul McCartney were making with synths around the same time.
There’s a whole list of guest appearances on So - the most famous being the duet with Kate Bush, but also showing up are The Police’s Stewart Copeland, PP Arnold, Wayne Jackson from Stax Records’ Memphis Horns, Youssou N’dour, Simple Minds frontman Jim Kerr, and Larry Klein (better known as the producer and former husband of Joni Mitchell).
Hit: Sledgehammer
Hidden Gem: Big Time
Labels:
1986,
Brian Eno,
Daniel Lanois,
Factory Records,
Genesis,
Kate Bush,
Paul McCartney,
Peter Gabriel,
Peter Saville,
Pink Floyd,
Real Groovy,
Sledgehammer,
So,
Stax Records,
Stewart Copeland,
The Police,
vinyl
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Rocks In The Attic #79: Bon Jovi - ‘Slippery When Wet’ (1986)
Hmm.
Well, everybody needs a bit of hair-rock in their collection, don’t they? Don’t
they?This album is pretty much exactly what you expect. Big choruses, and dumb lyrics. I haven’t deciphered the lyrics fully but I doubt they deal with politics, world hunger or the threat of global overpopulation. There is a song called Social Disease though, which I guess could be about the AIDS crisis.
Wikipedia tells me that currently this album is the 21st best-selling studio of all time. There are only so many strip clubs in the world though, which probably explains why it stalled at #21.
Hit: Livin’ On A Prayer
Hidden Gem: Raise Your Hands
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