The Preludin Canon 3 - Open for 1976-85

1976

Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop



Obviously

Edited:already posted on the 75 thread.

I'm holding off for now on my 76 pick as I want to see what GB picks. If he picks what I think he'll pick, I'll pick something else.

Can't fault the picks so far, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to go with The Residents again. Arguably the greatest cover version ever released, if it counts as a cover. To think that punk was in its infancy and seen as shocking, as this absolute monstrosity of a track was released. It takes the vague rebellious angst of The Stones and twists it into a horrific sociopathic monologue, and transforms that thin guitar motif into a squall of off-key noise. That guitar solo is as horrifying and visceral as any giallo; the vocals scrape the eardrums raw. It's one of those tracks that stands alone in pop music history, before Satisfaction, pop music was this, now it can do anything it fucking wants to.

1976



I’ve written about this song on several occasions now so I can’t help but feel I will be repeating myself nevertheless.....

We all know how fucked up Bowie was around this time. We’ve read the stories, we’re aware of the legends.  The fact that despite the urine in the fridge and the pentagram on the floor he was able to produce not just some of his best work but one of the truly great rock n roll songs of the decade is not just symbolic of his brilliance in the 70s but, maybe, the symbiotic relationship between fucked up-ness (in multiple ways) and Great Art (perhaps). Anyway.

One song in three parts. Part one: opening with white noise and the sound of a train whistle (cute). Earl Slick’s guitar feedback, a crude two-note piano refrain, bass and drums, a hint of forward momentum, the sound of machinery belching into life and the unmistakeable feeling of a journey beginning. Given Bowie’s fear of flying and his preference for trains it makes sense that he’d adopt the metaphor of a train ride for a song about progress and transformation. It lurches forward, thick and heavy, but gradually picking up speed until Bowie, like a metaphorical magician appearing in a puff of purple smoke on a stage declares, “The return of the Thin White Duke, throwing darts in lovers' eyes”. What the fuck is he on about? Who cares. That’s the stuff isn’t it?  You can feel that yeah?  Weird lines about “bending sound” and “dredging the ocean” suggest something vaguely supernatural and Übermensch(y) but there’s also a vulnerability (“lost in my circle”) and the tangible sense of a great weight dragging him down. The lurching gait of the music communicates this, as if the sins and madness of the past trail behind him like a giant ball and a chain, hinting at a great reckoning. Maybe the drugs, the fame, the psychic cobwebs and rats in the attic are finally catching up with our Hero? But wait....

Part two: Hope. A simple drum fill. A dramatic change in tone and feeling. The lyrics now talk of mountains and sunbirds. Bowie has a second wind and the band instantly rise to the occasion. Suddenly there is optimism and hope, the dark room overlooking the ocean is now replaced by a vision of a mountain top and clouds. There is even, gasp, the possibility of romance and love. The music now has a Bierhalle swagger as the band kick in climaxing in that fabulous moment of candour and rare Bowie vulnerability that the whole journey hinges on, “It's not the side-effects of the cocaine, I'm thinking that it must be love”. Love is salvation, right? The life force that can drag you out of the deepest, darkest hole. Just the promise of it can change everything, yeah? “Got to keep searching…”

Part three: Salvation. The music, buoyed by the bubbling bass of George Murray and Earl Slick’s guitar is now triumphant and celebratory. The occult shadows of the intro are gone and you can almost see the sunbirds yourself circling above your head.  The music is glamorous and heroic, a sort of bastard 70s hybrid of disco and rock and the band is completely killing it. At 9.40 Dennis Davis throws in a drum fill so good it could rattle the teeth of Zeus himself. The emotional pay-off is huge, the spiritual journey complete, the final ascent to the mountain top realised.  Job done.  Nice one Dave.  Nice one Dave's BAND.

We miss you x

A lot of that section is related to occultic practices and the Kabbalah, although I didn't find that out until years afterwards. I think when I first heard the track I took it to be a sort of quest (there's something heroic about the "once there were mountains.." part), which it kind of is, although of a darker, psychic kind.

I could have picked the debut single from an Australian band who made my favorite punk album, but punk is already represented, so I’m picking Dazz by Brick

Great!!! That was my alternative pick.