The Cramps, Tom Waits, Khruangbin album covers

Random record reviews: The Cramps, Tom Waits, Khruangbin

By Joel Francis

The Cramps – Stay Sick!

While mainstream America was reliving the 1950s via sock hops and malt shops in “Happy Days,” the Cramps slid a hand underneath the decade’s poodle skirt to celebrate rockabilly music, monster movies and pin-up girls.

The  Cramps roared into the 1990s with Stay Sick!, a debaucherous offering every bit as good as their first few albums nearly a decade earlier. The band’s musk is evident just by reading the song titles on Stay Sick! If a whiff of “The Creature from the Black Leather Lagoon” and “Journey to the Center of a Girl” don’t get you going, dig their perversion of Bob Seger’s milquetoast “Old Time Rock and Roll” into the infinitely superior “God Damn Rock and Roll.”

This is the music your parents warned you about – and for good reason. If that doesn’t provide enough motivation, there’s a song called “Bikini Girls with Machine Guns” which is every bit as awesome as it sounds. C’mon. You know you want to.

Tom Waits – Small Change

Tom Waits’ fourth album plays like the daydreams of a janitor resigned to cleaning up a strip club as the sun rises and the last customer stumbles out. “Tom Traubert’s Blues” opens the album, a romantic fantasy set against a lush orchestra, borrowing the melody and chorus from “Waltzing Matilda.” Jim Hugart’s upright bass propels the next number, “Step Right Up,” a monologue that dances in the common ground between carnival barkers, beat poetry and TV preachers.

The rest of the album settles in between these two poles. Small Change is largely filled wistful, piano ballads with “Step Right Up,” “Pasties and a G-String” and “The One That Got Away” puncturing the fatigue of the late-night blues. Waits quotes a bit of Casablanca’s “You Must Remember This” in the opening and closing bars of “Bad Liver and a Broken Heart,” illuminating a major influence on the compositions here and the booze-fueled perspective from which Waits was writing.

Waits mined this same fertile territory across the half-dozen albums he released annually in the 1970s, but he never did it better than he did on Small Change.

Khruangbin – Mordechai

Working with vocals seems to please Khruangbin. After building an all-instrumental ouvre, the Texas funk trio released an EP with soul singer Leon Bridges earlier this year. Several months later, they released Mordechai, their third album, replete with singing.

The disembodied vocals on “First Class,” the opening cut, give way to actual lyrics on “Time (You and I),” which recalls Kool and the Gang sans horns. While most songs feature vocals, the singing complements and reinforces the vibe set by the instruments. The upbeat “Pelota” features handclaps and Spanish lyrics delivered with so much gusto it is impossible to listen without moving your body to the rhythm. A couple other high points feature African elements. “Connaissais de Face” incorporates bits of film dialogue alongside African guitar elements and dub rhythm. The relaxing “So We Won’t Forget” floats on a midsummer breeze with its Afro-pop arrangement and chill vocals.

Far from being a gimmick, by the end of Mordechia it becomes clear that the human voice is yet another texture for Khruangbin to play with in their impressive musical arsenal. It will be fun to see where this leads them next.

The attics of my mind

(Above: Stefani Germanotta goes gaga for John Lennon.)

A few random thoughts for this mid-week blog entry.

By Joel Francis
The Daily Record

Lilith Fair

I’m looking forward to catching my first-ever Lilith Fair tomorrow night, but must admit I have several reservations. It’s never a good sign when Sarah McLachlan, the tour headliner and organizer, admits that ticket sales have been “soft.” Several dates were cancelled, and a quick glance at the temporarily unavailable TicketMaster instant seat locator showed that many of the remaining dates had vast sections of available seats. I don’t know how to fix the sour ticket industry (eliminating “convenience” fees and lowering prices spring to mind, but I’m sure it’s much more complicated), but I think Lilith hasn’t done itself any favors. Many of these problems could be fixed by paying more attention to the Lilith Fair Website.

Fans should be able to see where each artists performs without having to click on every date. Clicking an artist’s name brings up a highlighted list of her cities, but without dates. This is needlessly complex. Furthermore, the schedules for each city are missing. Eleven artists will play at Sandstone Amphitheater tomorrow night. Performances will start in the mid-afternoon. Approximate schedules should be posted weeks before each stop so fans will be able to make plans and adjust to be in place for their favorite performer. Each of these issues have easy solutions. Judging by the Website, it appears as if everyone threw in the towel long ago. These shows may be a loss, but fans still need to be cared for.

Lady Gaga and John Lennon

My little brother cracks me up. With very little coaching from me, he has become a huge Beatles fan. His Facebook posting the other day reminded me of something I would have written as his age. He was outraged that the “freak” Lady Gaga had covered “Imagine,” “the magnificent song by John Lennon.”

I can’t recall any Beatles covers drawing my ire, but for a brief period I grew very upset when rap producers (I’m looking at you, Diddy) were too reliant on the source material. “I’ll Be Missing You” and “Feel So Good” seemed like glorified karaoke to me. The kicker came when Jimmy Page and Tom Morello, two guitarists (read: “musicians”) I greatly respected helped Diddy rework Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” for “Come With Me.”

I have mellowed over time. Now when I hear Gaga’s cover of “Imagine” I’m glad she has good taste and that someone is keeping Lennon’s music alive, however the performance rates.

Going Deep

In another lifetime, in another era I would have been a great producer at Rhino Records. I love scouring the catalogs of artists, unearthing gems from dismissed albums or periods. Much of this ends up in multi-volume anthologies, but these treasures also work as nice garnishing in a playlist.

The other day I was working with a friend who took great delight in all the solo Pete Townshend material I had sprinkled into a Who playlist (there were Roger Daltrey and John Entwistle solo offerings as well). He thought it was hilarious that I would venture beyond “You Better You Bet,” the band’s final classic single. I think he’s missing out. “Slit Skirts” and “Give Blood” may not be the second coming of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” or “Substitute,” but they’re easily as good as anything that came after “Who By Numbers.”

This leads me to Ringo Starr. Obsessive that I am, I created anthologies for all the fallow periods in the solo Beatle catalogs – except Ringo. The Fab drummer’s 70th birthday last week caused me to reconsider this stance. So I dutifully investigated all of his albums. The critics weren’t wrong – there’s more bad than good. That said, there’s always at least one keeper on each album, and if I hadn’t been so dedicated I would have completely missed out on Ringo’s first two fantastic albums.

Ringo’s third solo album, 1973’s “Ringo” soaks up all the love but “Sentimental Journey” and “Beaucoups of Blues” are just as good, albeit for very different reasons. Both albums came out in 1970, and both clock in around 35 minutes. Both the brevity and timing work in Ringo’s favor. 1970 was both the best and worst year to be a Beatles fan. Sure the band broke up, but on the other hand fans got “Let It Be,” “McCartney,” “All Things Must Pass,” “Plastic Ono Band” and the aforementioned Ringo platters.

Although they hit shelves only six months apart, “Sentimental Journey” and “Beaucoups of Blues” couldn’t be more different. Both albums are genre exercises, but the big-band swing of “You Always Hurt the One You Love” is both geographically and generationally separated from the country twang of “Loser’s Lounge.” Yet Ringo’s enthusiasm and personality shines through both project, making them an infectious and irresistible listen.

Neither album will replace “Abbey Road” or “A Hard Day’s Night,” but they easily trump “Red Rose Speedway,” “Extra Texture” or “Some Time in New York City.” Better yet, they can be found easily and cheaply on vinyl. Do yourself a favor and grab ‘em next time you haunt the bins.