Starting out with what seems to be an apology to a friend for
not visiting them in the hospital during their last days, Graham Parker’s new song
“We Did Nothing” (Big Stir Records ) is instead an acknowledgement of what we have done,
and continue to do, to Planet Earth. It’s the second single before the release
of his new album with his band The Goldtops, Last Chance To Learn The Twist, out
on September 8th (Big Stir Records).
Strumming an acoustic guitar, and with an understated backing
from The Goldtops, Graham sends an urgent, if late, message about what we are
seeing as a result of our less-than-caring global stewardship: “I knew you were
slipping away by the day/What did I do?/I did nothing/The tone of your sky was
a gun-metal grey/What did I do?/I did nothing.” And then there’s swimming in
the cool waters of a melting ice cap.
The first time I listened to “We Did Nothing” I thought of the
quote/prose poem by German Pastor Martin Niemoller which begins “First they came
for the socialists and I did not speak out.” Whether Parker used these words as a template
for his song I have no way of knowing. Following the devastation of World War II
Niemoller had hoped things would be different in the future.
But Parker knows there may not be a next time because of where
we are with climate change. We’re already there. And it’s not looking good.
The arrangements for
the songs on Panic Pocket’s debut album Mad Half Hour (Skep Wax Records) alternate
between 60’s girl groups and Liz Phair’s 90’s girl and a guitar. But unlike the
girl groups, Phair’s songs were much more honest in their depiction of the
relationship between the sexes while Panic Pocket’s songs by this London-based four piece have issues with both
sexes.
“Still The Bad Guy” is
an updating of the Emperor’s New Clothes with the idea that changing your mental
outlook (if only on the surface) doesn’t make you a different or a better
person. Its retro sound is a contrast to the song’s accusations: “Think you’ve made
amends?/Truly believe you’re born again?/You’re no ally/You’re still the bad
guy.” It’s like the guy who suddenly decides to throw in some lines about
supporting women’s rights as a way to get a date.
In “Boyfriend” a hoped-for
girl’s night out turns sour when an old friend brings along her significant
other. “Booked a table for two/I was only expecting you.” Turning the tables on
how a man refers to a woman, the boyfriend is called “the ball and chain.” But
the friend doesn’t get it: “They say three’s a crowd/Do I have to say it out
loud?”
“Say You’re Sorry” is
another song about an evening’s honest conversation. With its Ronettes-style vocals and arrangement, a woman starts out the evening by letting her date know
how worthless she’s been made to feel: “I’m gonna make you feel the same way.”
And she’s going do this by making him feel sorry for even showing up: “I wanna
see you with your head in your hands/I wanna make you wish you’d made other
plans.”
The opening track, “Get Me,” has the strongest Exile in Guyville vibe with its crunchy lead guitar and
angry vocal. It’s not clear if she’s talking to a friend or if she’s having a
conversation with herself (which is my take) about having taken a wrong turn: “Just
hold that smile/We’re not on trial/That way’s the door/When I count to four.”
In May of 1967 Syd Barrett, Marianne Faithful, and George
Martin booked time in Trident Studios in London. Throughout the summer, recording
under the name The 3 Clubmen to avoid prying eyes and ears, the trio created
four complete tracks in between their regular sessions with other artists. Released
a few months after the juggernaut of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, the
four-song EP sunk without a trace.
Obviously, none of this ever happened but The 3 Clubmen is a
real thing. Today it’s not Barrett, Faithful, and Martin but another musical powerhouse
trio in Andy Partridge, Jen Olive, and Stu Rowe. Their self-titled EP
(Burning Shed) is the kind of musically inventive and downright fun
collection of songs that you just don’t hear much anymore; it’s the kind of
thing the trio I made up in the opening paragraph of this review might have put
together.
This current day trio made their first appearance when the
first single from the EP, “Aviatrix,” was announced back in the Spring (a few
weeks ago a glorious pop-art style video was released). In my review of the
song I called it “mind-bending” and this also applies to the paint-splattering
way all of these songs have been put together; there’s nothing in these songs
that’s expected.
Both Partridge and Olive provide alternating vocals on “Aviatrix”
as well as on the lovely, very Partridge “Green Green Grasshopper.” Like a finger-picked
folk song for children it’s the tale of a request for a grasshopper to take a journey
to deliver a message of love. But there are dangers along the way: “take care
you’re not breakfast for a bird in the sky” but more importantly when the
destination is reached (there may have been a breakup or a misunderstanding between
the lovers) “make note if there’s a Spring-time thunder look in her eye.” This
grasshopper saga seems made for a children’s book or an animated short.
Olive sings lead on both “Racecar” and “Look at Those Stars”
and both are about the ways someone handles down turns in their lives.
“I am blue/What should I do?” asks Olive in “Racecar.” The answer,
at least for now, is to engage with a bit of conspicuous consumption: “You need
to buy yourself a racecar baby.” The song has a metronome-like interplay of guitar
and drums along with occasional spooky piano fills.
“Look at Those Stars” is the most accessible, out-and-out pop
song on the EP (which is why it’s probably my favorite). It also provides a
natural – as in nature – answer to the blues. “I’ve got the kind of blues/Don’t
ever go away,” sings Olive, “I’ve got the kind of dues/I always got to pay.”
The solution is to look skyward and there’s a joyful lyrical outburst reinforced by the
sound of steel drums: “But hey!/Would you look at those stars/Nothing more
beautiful!”
