It is more than a little daunting to write about the music of Bob Dylan. He has been recording music for fifty years now, and so many beautiful things have been said about his songs for decades.

Taking this as a cautionary guideline, I have always preferred Dylan’s post-1960s output to his earlier, universally-lauded material and wanted to discuss some of his great latter day albums. His earliest records feature ahead of their time political and humanitarian statements, while the mid-60s ones have an amphetamine-fueled surrealistic brilliance to them.

There is no doubt that every album he released up to Nashville Skyline (1969) is unadulterated genius, but his work after that is what I am especially drawn to. I gravitate to the records and songs that Dylan recorded when he was vulnerable and not fully confident. This, to me, is the Bob Dylan that is truly fascinating.

 

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THIS LP POPPED MY NEW WAVE CHERRY. It was 1979, my parents had taken me to Peaches on 45th (R.I.P.), a great big old record store, and my mom made me choose between this, Nick Lowe's second solo album (after playing with pub rockers Brinsley Schwarz, which I still don't think I've heard to this day, and while he produced Elvis Costello's first few amazing records), and The Clash's Give 'Em Enough Rope. A hard choice, but Labour Of Lust became my 13th birthday present.

Up until that purchase, it had mostly been all Queen and Heart and such for me. One day in 1978, I heard "Somebody's Gonna Get Their Head Kicked In Tonight" on the radio when some rednecks from Walla Walla were making fun of it for an April Fool's Joke as they did their radio shift. I expected to hear Dr. Demento that Sunday evening, but discovered The Rezillos instead. And I started to think of myself as "punk," but that meant listening to the end of "Bohemian Rhapsody" over and over, you know, the part where it gets really aggressive.

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When my wife heard this playing yet again on the stereo last night she chirped, "So you found a record you really like a lot? That's awesome!" Yes, Sean Rowe's brandy-baritone vocals from his ANTI- debut Magic have become as sonically ubiquitous in our apartment as, say, those by Dylan, Cohen, and most recently Van Morrison. Now, that's pretty heady praise to write those names in a review of a new artist, and I'd need you to check in with me this time next year to see if Magic is still pouring out through apartment #301 here above the Ave. But the fact that the juxtaposition is even presumed should tell you enough that there is unique promise involved.

Most of the praise I have for this full-length would better be used by the placement of a handful of the tracks on a mix tape to friends. Because it's a really, really good album -- but due to so many slow burners with similar tempos, the sequencing lacks a certain ingenuity. Still, maybe that's OK: The first of the ten tracks is titled "Surprise," and it's a hale, modest, romantic soul number that might have been better placed as the third track. A steady hand full of flowering imagery ("Your body shows up to take it all")... still, this is where the average consumer is going to look for the quick pop fix, and this is the closest thing to a Steve Winwood number Magic is going to give. (However, deep cut art song fans will love following lines like, "I found a little shelter inside of the sickness ... I want to bottle the night and use it on you when the night goes down.")

There is further proof that new singer-songwriter gods can possibly be born new, or at least their rhythms reborn through the cryptic night poetry and the plainly textured strum and thrum of their dusky song-blankets. It's when Rowe starts to caterwaul supernaturally halfway through "Old Black Dodge," like how L. Reed has been using Antony's otherworldly vocals to augment his more minimal sing-speak. "Wet" may have been a better opener; I can guess what it's about, but I love how (spartan) it sounds. Pretty much just a couple of acoustic guitar notes, over and over, with confessions about "leaving friends behind the graveyards with jars of rum" razoring out of the song's almost-stillness. Whether the kitchen knives and abusive boyfriends and moving are metaphorical, it all (as they say) rings true. Just as true as "Fast Car" from Tracy Chapman, and it's been a long time since alternative-kissed soul-pop has been both this pinching and relaxed.

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Kristin "Dee Dee" Gundred and her in-shades art-babes are at the #2 spot in the current Billboard charts for this EP for a rare but giddy reason: a quick-change, yet supremely matured, transitional moment between full-lengths -- sounding bold and elegant after dense, terse debut I Will Be. And, telling from the three intoxicating originals and firm-shouldered cover of a Smiths classic, what I think will probably end up being one of the very best albums of 2011: Coming up next.

Since she left Rilo Kiley-mentored Grand Ole Party in the indie rock band glut of the past decade, Gundred has put on the paint-spattered motorcycle jacket and had quite a gas-choked rip around the music scene since. Probably figuring out that with her easy skills and fuzz-rock finesse she could dominate the rest with ease, her one-time one-gal band Dum Dum Girls first gladdened synthetical seven inch collectors with a smattering of singles and buzz. Then getting Link Wray/Blondie/Strangeloves band-baron Richard Gottehrer to help out with I Will Be, the latter must be thrilled to help produce an EP that is as bold a mini-/between album statement as fully fleshed out and dapper as He Gets Me High. I was there for the beautifully fat Gang of Four's Gold EP, for the absolutely assured one between the first two Pretenders albums; these were albums that took the magical mix of discovery and danger of their first records and went deep groove audacious in the post-punk era, perhaps proving that rock and roll really is an Extended Play medium. (Buy me a whiskey and we can argue those details.)

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As was reported earlier on this sparkling site, I was one of the judges at this year's Sound Off! battle of the bands at EMP last month. I could write a book about the weird tension at events like these, pitched between melodramatic mainstream rock bands (and their pressuring fans) -- and those of us who like the weird, the wild, and the wonderful: like Tomten, the "wild card" draw. They are a foursome who are playing with M. Bison and Annabel Lee Thursday night at the majestic Columbia City Theater, starting at 9 PM. Don't miss them -- they will tickle your tea and pour pure joy into a jewel-speckled cup, bowing as they hand it to you.

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In the UK, radio sessions have a massive impact on both the introduction to and subsequent success of bands. What typically happens is as follows: groups will send a particular radio host a demo of their music along with contact information, and if the DJ likes what he/she hears, then the band will be asked to come into the studio and professionally record 3-4 songs that will be broadcast over the airwaves. John Peel (1939-2004), if you're not familiar, was perhaps the single most important radio host and figure in recognizing talent and giving groups the opportunity to be heard between 1967 and 2004. In fact, just about every post-punk group that you listen to can credit John Peel as their sole reason for being given a chance.

His 'Peel Sessions' are instrumental recordings that often match or even top album versions of songs that you have grown to know and love. These recordings are quality, as they are lovingly put to tape at various top-notch BBC studios. They also have the advantage of not being overproduced, as each band has but one afternoon to get their handful of songs down. As a result, the music is vibrant and fresh, without suffering from over-revision or excessive arrangements. Everyone from Syd Barrett, Joni Mitchell, Kevin Ayers, and The Fairport Convention to The Smiths, The Wedding Present, Wire and Killing Joke found an audience due to these now-legendary radio sessions. Here {http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Peel_sessions} is a list of every band who ever recorded a Peel Session along with the date(s) recorded. Quite an impressive resume, huh?

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I thought the Vivian Girls were pretty good, a lot of pissy but prim potential. But I think La Sera, bassist-vocalist Katy Goodman's new band, is great. That's because her new thing's self-titled debut doesn't hide behind Ramones-wanna be riffs or Sonic Youth ear-gumming feedback. Instead, La Sera shows what the Shaggs would have been like if they weren't ridden by a freaky old alcoholic father-manager, and could have been produced by a post-treatment Phil Spector; and oh yeah, could feel free to play away sincerely and happily with her own toys by herself. Toys being guitars, basses, percussion, and cream cake layers of sumptuous vocals. (Uncle Joe Meek's ghost is in the closet, too, and Stephin Merritt would probably kill to produce the next one. Stand firm, Katy!)

And moreso, on going-to-outlive 2011 songs like "Never Come Around" (this year's "Young Folks" and I mean that with a pure heart) and "Dove Into Love" it's sort of like a revenge fantasy for every pretty girl who was told she'd never play beautifully. When you listen to the joy of creation and discovery Goodman puts into the design of sweet-torture chamber mazes like "Beating Heart" (all boxed in and sugar-coated) you want to go into that room and create fresh noise with her. She leaves that necessary space to put your heart into, even if the freezing lyrical icicles of "Left This World" and "Devils Hearts Grow Cold" threaten to pierce right through the ventricles.

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Recently, I've fallen into a rabid obsession with The Cure during the epoch where they were floating in uncharted territory between Disintegration (1989) and Wish (1992). Concerning the general musical landscape, it was an interesting time. The bloated gluttony of the '80s was passing, and the misdirected angst of grunge had not yet taken the country by storm.

Relating this to The Cure, they were still riding high on the unanticipated success of Disintegration and looking towards the future with an optimistic perspective. They had everything in their favor at this point: a stellar band consisting of Robert Smith (vocals, guitar, keyboards), Simon Gallup (bass), Porl Thompson (guitar), Boris Williams (drums) and Perry Bamonte (keyboards), a record company that appeared to offer them unquestioned artistic creativity, a reputation for being the biggest, unknown band in the world - and perhaps most importantly, the wherewithal to take whatever step they wanted to take next.

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Every Valentine's weekend, my lovely friend Jenny George celebrates another year on earth by flipping off the bastard that almost took her from it with a birthday cover show that benefits the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. This year, please join us at The Crocodile this Friday, February 11 for Dancing on the Valentine VI: Strangelove and give cancer a big "F YOU" while listening to Depeche Mode covers by Seattle bands, buying raffle tix for awesome prizes, and you know, probably drinking a lot.

We can't tell you who's covering what (that would spoil the surprise!), but we can tell you who's playing: Black Swedes, Hotels, Exohxo, SHiPS, Lesli Wood with Jupe Jupe, Sean Nelson & Phil Peterson, Legion Within, and The Animals at Night w/special guests Brent Amaker & Ruby Mimosa from The Atomic Bombshells!!! Tickets are $10 advance ($12.38 online w/fees from The Croc, $12 @Sonic Boom locations) or $12 at the door. Every bit of the $10 gets donated + all your raffle dollars!

Bonus: we've got a pair of tickets to giveaway! Send an email to us at tig {at} threeimaginarygirls dot com by Thursday 2/10, 6pm - subject line: Strange Highs and Strange Lows and we'll pick a lucky winner at random and notify them Friday AM (that way you can spend all your donation $$ on raffle tickets!)

Dancing on the Valentine VI
Strangelove: A Depeche Mode Tribute & Benefit for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society
Friday, 2/11/11
The Crocodile
Doors @8
Show @9
$10 adv (+ fees)/$12 at door
21+

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Us Imaginaries are getting SUPER EXCITED for this year's Dancing on the Valentine benefit show next Friday, February 11! Host and organizer miss Jenny George has outdone herself; putting together a Depeche Mode cover night entitled Strangelove to satisfy our nostalgic Goth hearts. Photographer extraordinaire Ben Haley will once again be manning the fun photo booth.

Here's a preview of what to expect using photos from DOTV 2010: the David Bowie tribute. (psst: you should totally buy your tix now at Sonic Boom or The Croc!!! $12/$10 of which goes to support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.)

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