The "Influences" Question
Posted by John
Matt, I think we both know that the only song you actually have any interest in creating liner notes for is “Dreams,” so you accomplished two things by posting your liner notes thread: putting up the only liner notes you really gave a damn about and putting you and I into our normal, tormented twist. Mission accomplished!
I was thinking about a different way into the music, other than the “This song is about such and such,” thereby wrecking the song for all eternity for everybody (debateable as this thread demonstrates). How else can we penetrate the creative process? How do we account for these wonderful tunes aside from dreams? The “influences question!”
There’s a few ways this can work. One is to explore favorite records of all time and remark on what stands out about them. Another is to talk about what we’re listening to now. And a third is to talk about what we were listening to as we conceived the music.
I’ll start by exploring two records, one a recent release that I think is really cool and one an old chestnut that I go back to over and over: Night Beat by Sam Cooke and Wilco The Record by Wilco.
I love the silliness of Wilco having a song about their band on their eponymous eighth recording. Of course it reminds me of our new song, “Soundwaves,” which is less about some fans thoughts about the band and more a dialogue between us, but it’s cool nonetheless for there to be a song “Wilco (the song)” on Wilco the Record. For a band, naming your record the band name signals a certain kind of “we did it” triumph. Or perhaps more accurately, “Eureka! After so many false starts, here it is, finally, the record that really says what we’ve been trying to say all along!” That’s got to be a great feeling. Of course it could also be the sinking feeling of “all my good titles have been used up… waaah.” But in this case, I think it’s definitely the former.
What do I love about this record (got it on vinyl btw!)? I love the tunes, especially the duet with Feist, “You and I,” which echoes (consciously?) the great Beatles tune, “Two of Us.” I love the communal recognition of “Wilco (the song).” A song that identifies its fans as “dabbling in depression.” Funny. It’s holding up the song as a mirror to it’s audience. It also holds music as our possible savior. And it is. It definitely is.
I love Nels Cline’s guitar playing. I’ve had friends put him down for getting all over the tracks in a way that’s distracting, but to me: no way. I can’t really get enough of him, quite honestly. He loves the same guitarists as me. I’m thinking particularly of Richard Lloyd and Tom Verlaine from Television here. He uses a lot of finger vibrato, which I love. He plays in the upper reaches of his instrument, but never sounds shrill. I’m a fan.
I love the B-3 on “I’ll Fight” as well as the overall arrangement and the sentiment. It speaks to the necessary passion it requires to hew to the line as you make a thing whatever it is.
There’s a naturalness to the sound of Wilco’s records, especially post-Jay Bennett (RIP) that really appeals to me. I love Being There, at least one of the discs, but I love the last two Wilco discs even more than that for the inevitability of the sound. I think it evinces an aesthetic that Matt and I share, actually: plain rock. The sound is about the plain sound of each instrument. And not a lot of layering. Sometimes it’s nice to pour it on, but more and more lately I want clear, beautiful sounds and simple perfomances that feature each instrument. There is a ton of nice ensemble playing on this record and you can really track that playing because of the mixes, arrangements and all.
Which brings us to Night Beat which shares some of these qualities. Have you ever heard it? It will make you believe in the power of rhythm and blues again. But this is the plainest sort of R and B: double bass, super plain drumming (Hal Blaine!), piano, really groovy rhythm guitar, Billy Preston on B3, and of course Sam Cooke’s stunning voice soaring over the top. I’ve listened to this record countless times. It’s like an old friend to me.
The record was conceived as one which would have a late-night vibe to it. There is a little bit of an “after the after party” sort of energy to the band and especially to Cooke’s voice, slightly raspy as it might be after a gig, but also really warm and flexible, a result of the same.
The arrangements are revelatory in their simplicity. But the songs, along with the voice, are the centerpiece for each recording. And what a set of tunes! The record starts with “Lost and Looking for My Baby.” I might be particularly fond of this one because it is JUST bass and high hat and vocal. The arrangement feels the title in a deep way. “Mean Old World” and “Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen” sound great as does every single track on this disc. “Red Rooster” breaks the spell, but only a very little bit, and it’s worth it for how expressively Billy Preston plays the organ, imitating a whole barnyard’s worth of animals with his axe.
One thing that I feel a real sense of simpatico of with this one is that Cooke picked his faves for it and just ran them down over the course of a few days That reminds me of my other band’s approach (though we tend to stretch a little bit in terms of the arrangements!). It’s fun to hear Sam Cooke’s hand-picked favorite tunes rendered in this way. I can’t recommend this record highly enough. It has been deeply influential on me and every time I hear it I think, “I want to make a record that sounds that good some day!”
How about you, Matt? Got any good ones you want to talk about? I know you’re aching to reveal your abiding affection for “The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald” and Juice Newton.
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