Celebration

Happy Record Store Day! This is where I'll be... Neptoon, Redcat, Scrape, The Beat Merchant, Scratch, Zulu and Audiophile.

Go visit your local independent record store. Spend some money and keep 'em in business. Go watch I Need That Record! if you haven't.

Oh, and by the way, Ozzy Osbourne is the official ambassador of Record Store Day. Sweet.

Mountain - Avalanche

Band: Mountain
Album: Avalanche
Label: Self-released
Year: 1974

"Most rock critics don't like rock and roll. Their taste is too good." - Leslie West, 1976

"During my lunch-hour I’d walk to 48th Street and gaze at all the guitars in the stores; one day I guess I took too long and my boss told me not to bother coming back. It wasn’t till later that I realized the guitar looked like a woman – it had a nice neck, lots of curves and it only made sounds when I wanted it to." - Leslie West, 2009

I love Mountain. Leslie West's mammoth guitar tone and harsh bellow defined some of the best heavy rock of the early '70s, and their albums Climbing and Nantucket Sleighride have long been favorites of mine, not to mention numerous live albums which range in quality from fantastic to inessential. Unfortunately, the undeniable chemistry between West and his skilled co-writer/bassist/vocalist/producer/arranger Felix Pappalardi also made for a strenuous relationship between the two. The band split after the lukewarm Flowers Of Evil album in 1972, and West replaced his erstwhile companion with Jack Bruce and continued to pursue his muse for two solid studio records and a live platter under the West, Bruce & Laing moniker. The pairing was especially ironic given that Pappalardi had been a producer for Cream from Disraeli Gears on. Mountain reconvened in 1974 to record Avalanche, a record that was poorly received both critically and commercially, and the group broke up the next year. West has attempted a few half-hazard reunions since then, but none included Pappalardi, who was shot and killed by his wife, Gail Collins in 1983. Incidentally, she contributed lyrics to this and other Mountain releases.

I originally shunned this album as a cynical late career cash grab from a spent group trying the reclaim past glories, and only very recently while on a serious Mountain/West, Bruce & Laing kick decided to give it a listen. Turns out its actually pretty badass. The press for this record has always been brutal, though knowing what I know about music criticism now I've figured out that a terrible review for a heavy rock band is actually a good thing. By 1974, hard rock was on its way out as the dominant style of popular music, (at least in the minds of the critics, who had never liked it to begin with) and a band purveying the kind of molasses thick sludge that Mountain specialized in was easy pickings for the burnt-out sixties refugees who made up the core of the rock crit establishment. Given the lineup changes and the fact that Mountain's only hit, the idiomorphic cowbell rock archetype "Mississippi Queen," was by now almost five years past, it was easy to dismiss this piece of very good hard rock. When combined with the changing popular musical landscape and the rapid corporate homogenization of radio during the mid-70's, its not surprising the kids went looking for other kicks instead. And with typical perversity, Mountain swam upstream the whole way, knocking out their hardest rocking set of tunes since their debut.

This is very guitar-intensive album. It lacks the blusey kick of the WB&L records, or the psychedelic flourishes of Nantucket Sleighride, and instead goes straight for the jugular. There are no concessions to the root forms of proto-metal, only seriously rocky terrain. They don't just share a producer with Cream, but also a serious amount of musical DNA as well. But where Cream and perhaps even Led Zeppelin had always been concerned with doing justice to the blues that so obviously inspired their strenuous power-trio jams, Mountain had always taken an approach that was more in line with Sabbath in that they were quintessentially rock in their approach. The result is that their aesthetic is far more focused (limited, depending on who you talk to) on heavy riffage, and conjuring the physical energy of the jam than either of those bands. Despite the dearth of melodic inspiration, the instrumental work is visceral and intense without overstaying its welcome. There are two forgettable slower songs in the style of their cross-Atlantic contemporaries Budgie, but much like that band they don't dwell too long on keeping the volume down and get back to rocking soon enough. The rest is a thick, sprawling stew of molten guitar and fuzzed-out bass, all held together by Corky Laing's thunderous backbeat. Even the two covers here, the hoary rock 'n' roll standard "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On" and the Stones' "Satisfaction" are re-chisled into a slowed-down and blown-out dynamic that is pure heavy. The production job here scores points as well, as Pappalardi gives the band their heaviest mix yet and still lets the performances breathe.

Although the key elements of prime Mountain are all in place, there is a noticeable lack of memorable riffs or songs. Nothing here is as instantly memorable as anything on the flawless first side of Climbing. Parts of the album plod where in the past the band had strutted, but as anyone who has ever sat through all of the live half of Cream's Wheels Of Fire knows, sometimes you need to dig through a little electric mud to find the gold. If pushed to choose standout tracks, I'd name the sludgy grind of "Thumbsucker" and the uplifting rocker "Sister Justice" as two of the best, and "You Better Believe It" is a smoking cowbell jam where West and Pappalardi really let loose with a bass and guitar duel that Geezer and Iommi would be proud of. This is the sound of veteran musicians working up a sweat, an enjoyable listen even if the material is less than inspired. Definitely recommended for seventies rock freaks and Mountain die-hards. Dilettantes would be advised to begin their climb elsewhere.

Flipside

So I bought a used copy of Robin Trower's Caravan To Midnight album yesterday, and you can imagine my surprise when I played the second side and discovered that a completely different album by a different artist has been pressed on it. I checked to see if there were some limited runs that had this defect, but as far as I can tell it might just be a one-time error. Has anybody else ever heard of this happening?

This is some of my favourite live footage ever: The Stooges live in Cincinnati, 1970. The audio quality isn't great, but its the best rock band ever at their absolute peak. Dig the total square that they have announcing the show's reaction to Iggy's antics -- "That's peanut butter!"

Cosmic

Two buddies of mine have formed a droney psych project called Hierarchies. Their new EP, Cosmic Sloth delivers the goods.



Also, take a gander at that badass cover art. Click on the link to download and pay whatever you think is fair for three tracks of dark droney goodness.

Blarney

Happy St. Paddy's Day! Enjoy something from the best Irish band of all time.

Hey by the way, U2 sucks, except for Under A Blood Red Sky and a few other songs, none of which have been written in the last 20 years.

I try not to get political here, but please donate to your local Red Cross to help the earthquake and tsunami victims in Japan. That is all.

Ides

Original Iron Maiden singer Paul Di'Anno was jailed on March 11th for scamming welfare. I was surprised to learn he wasn't there already.

More to the point, on this day in history 2055 years ago, Roman general and "dictator in perpetuity" Julius Caesar was murdered by a group of constitutionalist senators who opposed his centralization of the Roman bureaucracy and his authoritarian reforms of the Roman state. Among the killers was his friend, Marcus Junius Brutus. The subsequent civil war was a critical point in the transformation from Republic to Empire under Caesar's nephew, the Emperor Caesar Agustus. As I do every year, I will observe the Ides of March and commemorate Caesar's death by listening to Iron Maiden's Killers, featuring its devastating one-two opening punch of "The Ides Of March" and "Wrathchild."

Up the Irons!

Audition

What the hell are we doing here?

The Replacements are still one of my favorite bands ever. What a bunch of losers. Rocking Pleased To Meet Me as I type.

Today I went to Value Village and picked up AC/DC's Back In Black and the first Santana album for 50 cents each. Go me. Oh, and Nazereth's Greatest Hits. Now you're messin' with a son of a bitch.

I love scouring old used record collections. Generally the ones you find in second hand and non-record stores are in deplorable condition, and you often have to dig through mounds of John Denver and Bing Crosby Christmas records, but a solid find is always so rewarding. It's the thrill of the hunt I guess. Records are pretty resilient as it is, and I don't really mind a few pops and a little static... seems to give it character. I like the idea that someone was listening to the same record in a smoky basement thirty or forty years ago. It's like a window through time.

I think the reason you don't find much of worth in places like that is that the people to whom the music really matters will generally hang on to their records, and there are more rock fans who are like that than pop fans. The few quality records that do end up in the bargain bin at a pawn shop are soon scooped up by ravenous treasure hunters like myself. Once in a while though, you get really lucky and find something that is just obscure enough that whoever is selling it has no clue what it is. You can scoop up some pretty pricey goodies that way. I once fleeced the local hipster record shop (Zulu) when I found a pristine copy of the 1973 debut record by Cleveland, Ohio's severely underrated Granicus for a tenner. Dig those Robert Plant-esque vocals.

Keep your eyes and ears open, droogs. Never know what you might find the next shelf over...