Fluxblog #269: 1967 Survey Playlist | Bob Dylan | AceMoMa | Roy Ayers | Annie
The 1967 survey playlist is now available, covering all the major music of a pivotal year for Boomer culture. It's the major year for psychedelic rock, but also a big moment for Jamaican rock steady and American soul music. I'm curious what people make of this one, because I feel like the overall feel of the year of this desegregated presentation is very different from how the media has presented the music of this era through time. If missed it, here's the survey playlists for 1968 and 1969. A survey for 1966 will come sometime in the next month or two.
June 23rd, 2020
The Enemy Of The Unlived Meaningless Life
Bob Dylan “False Prophet”
The verses of “False Prophet,” but most especially the fourth, contain lyrical sentiments that are pretty common themes in rap: performance of a grandiose persona, declarations of greatness and theatrical disdain for rivals, boasts about street knowledge and underworld associations. The music is jacked from a rare 1954 blues b-side by Billy “The Kid” Emerson – not an unusual move for blues or folk, but another echo of a genre initially built on samples. I don’t think Dylan is necessarily trying to draw a direct comparison to rap here, but he’s certainly aware of the lineage, and the larger process of art as a tradition and communicative medium. He insinuates a lot in his lyrics and arrangement choices, and I think one of those things here is nudging the listener to hear a historical through line. Formats and styles come and go, but a lot of creative impulses don’t really change much through time.
“False Prophet” is playful and sly, and you can hear the delight in the gravelly remains of his voice when he hits each of his punchlines. He’s lived in this version of his voice long enough to have mastered its limited range, so he’s surprisingly nimble and nuanced in the phrasing of every line of this song. He’s always been the singing equivalent of a character actor, but Very Old Man Dylan voice has a different weight to it, even when compared to the Somewhat Less Old Man Dylan of his late ’90s/early ’00s run of albums. He’s keenly aware of when this voice sounds profound and when it sounds funny, and this song is the perfect vehicle for playing to both strengths. You can always hear the jokes in this one coming as the music rolls up to the punctuation of the riff, but the deeper lines mostly hit you when you’re off balance.
Buy it from Amazon.
June 23rd, 2020
Build Upon The Foundations
AceMoMa “Hidden Memory”
AceMo and MoMa Ready’s music is fast and joyfully frantic, calling back to ’90s house and techno aesthetics while carving out their own hyper-charged niche. “Hidden Memory” is, relative to a lot of their material, a more mellow number. The emphasis is placed on atmosphere and the “aura” of the samples, so even when the programmed beats get into drum and base BPMs it’s more vibey than physical. There’s a wonderful sense of space within this composition – wide open and airy but still dense with detail, implying a massive scale observed from a distance. Along with the title, this piece suggests some profound moment of connection with something that was once thought lost. There’s a powerful feeling of hope in this music, as though it’s possible to bring the lost things back.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
June 25th, 2020
Let Emotions Take Control
Roy Ayers, Adrian Younge, and Ali Shaheed Muhammad “Synchronize Vibration”
Roy Ayers’ collaboration with Adriane Younge and Shaheed Muhammed is true to the progressive jazz/funk Ayers made in the ’70s, but isn’t a full-on retro thing. The sound is rooted in the present and in Young and Muhammed’s established polished neo-soul aesthetic, but they’re not afraid to nod in the direction of Ayer’s classics. “Synchronize Vibration,” the opening track of the new record, feels like a deliberate sequel of sorts to Ayer’s most famous song “Everybody Loves the Sunshine.” You can hear echoes of the song in the lyrics and melody, but most importantly in the cool psychedelic haze of the arrangement. The keyboards and strings feel like shifting overlapping clouds, gentle and gradual in their movements but always in communication with the groove. It’s very particular sort of atmosphere, one that’s been imitated through the years but it seems that only Ayers himself can nail it.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
June 25th, 2020
Fall Of Glittering Stars
Annie “American Cars”
In the mid 2000s, the Norwegian singer Annie – along with the Swedish singer Robyn – laid the groundwork for virtually every beloved “pop star” we have today who struggles to land chart hits while cultivating fawning press and a devoted cult audience. Prior to the ’00s working in “pop” as a genre was a zero sum game – you either had big hits and were legitimate, or you didn’t and were immediately considered a failure and were disrespected and forgotten. The only room for cult fandom in this lane was reserved for import-bin artists like Kylie Minogue or Girls Aloud, who had attained major hits outside the United States. Robyn, whose arc is based on coming back from early chart hits she released as a teen, is a model of underground pop in the way she took control of her career and remade herself as an auteur. Annie, on the other hand, is more like an indie band in stature and reach, and in the way she played straight-ahead pop without ironing out her quirks or artsy influences.
“American Cars,” her first single in over a decade, leaves the bubbly pop of her breakthrough Anniemal to successors like Carly Rae Jepsen and moves in a darker, more atmospheric direction more along the lines of The Chromatics or Bat for Lashes. The ice cold synthesizers are perfectly suited to Annie’s airy, trebly voice. Her lyrics, inspired directly by the David Cronenberg film Crash, are evocative and romantic but the vocal is mixed so in a tonal sense it could just as well be another keyboard part, particularly on the chorus hook. As brilliant as “Chewing Gum” and “I Know UR Girlfriend Hates Me” are, this new aesthetic actually feels more authentically Annie.
Buy it from Amazon.