Thought I’d kick off the long weekend by giving the country what it’s clamoring for, three days of rest and more idle thoughts from yours truly. First thing to highlight was the quiet passing of a legend this week, that of the French Frank Sinatra, Charles Aznavour. I stumbled on Aznavour years ago, hearing him playing at some anonymous spot during my travels and immediately falling for his voice, a rich, warm croon that oozed class, charm, and a time long forgotten. Similar to Sinatra in all those regards, he was equally prolific, releasing dozens of albums over his decades long career.
He sang predominantly in French, but also recorded songs in Italian, German, and Spanish, and while I often have no idea what he’s saying, as I wrote last week regarding the Lizard, that really doesn’t matter. (The one and only time Aznavour has ever been compared to Jesus Lizard in his 65 year career.) You sense what he’s after and feel the emotion in the music, which is often as (if not more) powerful as understanding the words. There’s loads to like (his 40 Chansons d’Or album is a good starting point), but one of my favorites has always been “A Ma Fille,” which is like a time capsule to another era. Luxuriant, lovely, and instantly familiar, it draws you in like a warm bowl of your grandma (or meme’s, in this case) stew. Give it a listen here:
Next comes another pair of anniversary albums, reminding me (yet again) I am O.A.F. (and also that I’ve got pretty good taste). First up is an article from Stereogum on the 20th anniversary of beloved Queens of the Stone Age’s self-titled debut, which does a good job recounting how the band formed from the wreckage of frontman Josh Homme’s outfit of sludge rocking outlaws, Kyuss. Similar to that band, early era Queens was a family affair, a rotating roundhouse of members and kicks to the head, centered as always around the red-headed wrecking ball Homme. And while the band has continuously evolved in the intervening years, sometimes in directions that make you long a little for the grit and grime of their earlier efforts, the core elements have remained the same throughout — killer riffs, bludgeoning drums, and an irresistible groove (either to make you dance as on their last album, or to make you rock out as on most others.)
As the article notes, this album remains their most unadulterated — they hadn’t yet added Oliveri’s insanity or Hannegan’s grime (or Grohl’s, and subsequently Jon Theodore’s, demolition derby on drums) — but it shows how powerful those core elements are, still hitting hard 20 years later. I remember sitting in my basement, teaching myself how to play this thing front to back, yowling along in embarrassing “unison” and wishing I could capture a fraction of Homme’s cool. (20 years later that’s still got me like Godot…) Several setlist staples remain from this one — “If Only” and “Mexicola” are perennial favorites, but “You Can’t Quit Me Baby” remains the purest distillation of why this band rules. The slinking, slightly ominous bass line, the building groove of the drums, Homme’s inviting croon, all leading to an eruption at the end that’ll leave you panting and breathless once the dust has settled. It’s vintage Queens, a trick they’ve replicated dozens of times over the years (most recently/satisfyingly on the last album’s “The Evil has Landed”), but it never gets old. Crank this one to 11 and rock out to one of the originals…
Last up is another Stereogum retrospective, this one for the 20th anniversary of Outkast’s classic Aquemini, which as the article recounts is the fulcrum between the classic gangsta lean so wickedly deployed on their first two albums and the weirder, more experimental sounds of their later albums. This one blends both quite well, and at 16 songs, nearly an hour and fifteen minutes long, gives you a lot to enjoy. There’s the more classic sounding “Return of the G,” “Skew it on the Bar-B,” and title track right alongside funkier, stranger songs like “Synthesizer,” “Liberation,” and “Chonkyfire.” And then there’s the monster single “Rosa Parks,” which blends both and somewhat inexplicably was a runaway hit. (Besides the harmonica solo you’d think the cartoonish “BOINK!” that forms the backbone of the beat would be enough to turn people away — and yet this song remains an eminently quotable favorite for folks young and old.)
The article does a good job advocating for the importance of this album, and going back to listen to it it holds up well (“SpottieOttieDopaliscious” is still a sick, sexy little thing), but for my blood the ‘Kast of the first two albums is the one I’ll always love most. I recently watched a documentary on these guys and their producers Organized Noize, and while not a must see affair (note to music documentaries — talking about music in lieu of HEARING said music often isn’t the best way to roll), it was interesting to see the tiny Atlanta house where the Dungeon Family dwelled and hear some stories about the duo cutting their teeth. Case in point was learning that their first single, the permafave “Player’s Ball,” was supposed to be a Christmas song and was released on a compilation CD of other holiday tunes. The guys being who they were, though, thought that was a stupid idea and instead recorded their version of a holiday song, relaying how a bunch of ballers would celebrate while throwing enough allusions to the holiday to appease their label. It’s a great song made all the better by knowing that backdrop, showing both the pair’s creativity and independence. So celebrate the anniversary and give the album another listen, but when you’re done dine on an even older classic and see how many of those references you can catch:
We’ll close with a quickie, the latest single from Thom Yorke’s upcoming Suspiria soundtrack, which I wrote about a few weeks ago. It’s another winner, in line with the previous offering “Suspirium,” slowly slinking along in all its atmospheric glory with Yorke’s lovely voice as its companion. He’s two for two so far, so hopefully he keeps it up (unlike my beloved Cubs who couldn’t hit a baseball if it was the size of a weather balloon lately and thus are done for the year). We’ll find out shortly — in the meantime, give “Has Ended” a listen here: