I'm a massive fan of the memoir, due that the writer usually has to be interesting, good writer, or know how to lie interestingly. As a reader, I never cared if what I'm reading is the truth or not. I only care how the narrator tells (writes) the tale. Momus (Nick Currie) is such a writer that I enjoy going on the journey with him. As a reader, he's the driver, and I'm sitting on the passenger side of the vehicle—the precise reason why I love memoirs. And Mr. Currie wrote an excellent book.
Momus has 217 narrators witnessing and telling the tale. All of them are dead and all divine. What sounds like from a distance just a cute idea, actually works in writing. Momus uses the voices of writers/artists like Franz Kafka to David Bowie, and beyond. I counted the narrators and, I didn't know 37 at all. One of the fun things about "Niche" is that you can google the ones you don't, and it's no extra work, it's a learning experience. Momus writes through his narrators about his musical career, but even more interesting to me is that he's exceptionally a superb travel writer. His status as an outsider makes him a voyeur of different cultures, and his writings about Japan I found thrilling. Mostly due that I lived and visited Japan many times, and I believe we were in the country around the same time. So I understand what he went through, and it's a game to compare my experiences of Japan with his time there.
"Niche" reads like a fast-moving Literary Critique, due to the way he sets up the narrative through other voices. The writing is smart, but not over-done. Like Serge Gainsbourg, in that he is both a masterful writer/lyricist and a composer, he's a jack-of-all-trades and wears all clothing equally well.
Tosh and Kimley discuss Niche: A Memoir in Pastiche by Momus. Nick Currie who performs under the name Momus (the Greek god of satire and mockery) has enlisted no less than 217 dead narrators of questionable reliability to tell his life story. His selection of an eclectic mix of writers, artists, musicians, philosophers, and assorted ne’er-do-wells probably tells us more about Momus than the actual narration. It seems both his work and his life borrow a little from this and steal a little from that and he makes sure to pilfer from only the best sources to create his own unique pastiche.
Theme music: “Behind Our Efforts, Let There Be Found Our Efforts” by LG17
I got this from Momus'Facebook page. A beautiful meditation on David Bowie and the commercial he did for Japanese TV sometime in 1980. I think, for a sake drink.
When I first heard about this album, my first thought was two simple words "oh no." But alas one must never underestimate the talent and genius of Bryan Ferry. This is probably the most played album this year for me. I like to listen to music while writing or thinking and this record hits that sport for me like if I am wearing a bullseye on the back of my shirt.
Everything he did here sounds terrible on paper, but when you put the vinyl (and this album must be heard on vinyl) it becomes magic. Basically Ferry went through his songbook from mostly the Roxy Music years and had his songs arranged in a 1920's jazz style - with that added touch of the 78rpm sound level. Being Ferry of course it nostalgic, but he treats nostalgia as an art form. Just when you think you got Ferry figured out, there is always a touch or a brief act of pure genius on his part. Overall I think Ferry is strange enough, one of the great underrated artists in the pop music world. Eno gets a lot of credit, but Ferry really did make wallpaper music (ambient) with some of the later Roxy recordings as well as the solo material.
The Next Day - David Bowie
Just the fact, in this Internet NSA age, Bowie was able to keep the recording of this album a secret till his announcement on his birthday is amazingly amazing. But then against all reason, it is a Bowie masterpiece. In my opinion this albums flows from the first cut to the last song, and without a doubt it is an album by a man who is 66 years old (although smashingly handsome) and coveys interesting enough about the world around him. Still glam, and always will be glam. There is nothing about this album I don't love. From the graphics to the baritone sax, a brilliant piece of work.
Where Are We Now? - Momus
Within hours of the release of the first David Bowie video off "The Next Day," Momus made his own version of the already classic "Where Are We Now?" When I heard this version I cried. You can only get this song through YouTube, with an incredible video attached to it. The Momus version is much more sinister, but it is also sadder to me as well. When I hear this, it is obvious that Momus understands the Bowie thing and it is clearly a tribute to the artist. But alas if I have to choose between the two recordings, it would be the Momus version. Even Bowie, through his website and Facebook page acknowledged Momus' tribute/recording. It is truly an amazing recording.
Turn On The Music Machine - The Music Machine
Normally I don't listen to new music. I am still hearing stuff from the past which is almost totally new to my ears. Of course I knew the song "Talk Talk" and loved it. It wasn't till this Fall that I picked up on a vinyl mono copy of "Turn On The Music Machine" and got my head totally turned-around. I didn't expect it to be this great. The covers on the album ("96 Tears," "Taxman") are good, but the original material on this album are superb. "Come On In" I think is one of the great songs I have ever heard. That and "Masculine Intuition" makes this record a work of genius. Also the slow burning sensuality of their version of "Hey Joe" maybe the best version yet of that song. The thing is I knew The Music Machine was good, but I didn't know they were great. Sean Bonniwell the Machine here was a fantastic songwriter.
The Beatles White Album - Rutherford Chang
About six months ago a friend of mine sent me a link regarding the artist Rutherford Chang and his project of documenting and collecting versions of the album “The Beatles” better known to the world as the “White Album.” Chang has around 900 copies of the album, and as an exhibition he had a pop-up store of sorts in Soho New York, where he had a record store that only exhibited the “White Album.” Some may find the concept humorous but I was almost moved to tears when I saw the images of this exhibition. It made me think of the importance of the record store, and of course The Beatles themselves. Specifically the importance of the “White Album.”
Chang took the next step and made a vinyl release of “The Beatles” which is the album overlaid 100 times. Even the famous iconic album cover and packaging is overlaid many times over from previous covers over the years. But how does this work as a listening experience. Well, I have the album, and it’s a masterpiece.
First of all the album itself is beautiful. The cover at first looks like the White Album, but re-done by some lunatic with an ink pen. But then you realize the overlaid aspect of the cover and this is sort of a Frankenstein monster, where all the parts become something new yet familiar. The album comes with a glossy poster of 100 White Album covers, which is worth the price alone for this incredible package.
One would think that the sound would be totally chaos, but alas, it is actually a meditative work of superb beauty. The album works on so many levels. There is the layer physical aspect of having this album in your hands and admiring the artwork. It is both a tribute to the original source as well as seeing how art can move on from its source intro something else. That is part one of the enjoyment, the other big part is the sounds itself.
The layering of 100 recordings being roughly played at the same time makes this a dreamy utopia. The vinyl sound of the needle and the clicks itself are so human and beautiful, then you hear something like Eric Clapton’s solo on “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and it takes one into a blissful state. Due to the delay there are no tracks between the songs, it is all one piece and the sheets of sound that comes up time-to-time is amazing. “Helter Skelter” instead of being this harsh rocker, becomes a sonic wave hitting the beach and returning back to the ocean. “Bluebird” which has a beautiful melody keeps that intact, but the textural aspect of the song comes out like you are underwater listening to music.
Right now I have to imagine that this album won’t be around forever, but surely the remaining members of The Beatles as well as the estate surrounding the fab four (especially Yoko) will realize that Chang made an incredible tribute to their music, yet it goes beyond that. This is the most impressive album I have seen or heard this year — or decade so far. You can hear side one on Sound-cloud, but even that, it doesn’t capture the beauty of this vinyl on your turntable producing these incredible sounds for your ears and yes, eyes as well.
For almost like all my entire life I have had troubles regarding Van Dyke Parks' first solo album "Song Cycles." It took me a long time to appreciate this man's genius, due to the fact that I found that album impossible to get into. I never (to this day) heard such an original piece of work. And then as soon as I got it, he released a sequel to that work (at least in theory). It's a great album. From the packaging and the idea of having the double album as 45 rpm, well it is sort of the nerd vinyl release. Nevertheless it follows through the sounds of "Song Cycles" but updated to 2013. Lyrically, not musically. It is still a hard-to-define piece of music, but it is sort of demented Americana which makes it charming and challenging at the same time. "Song Cycled" is simply a great album.
A mere song perhaps, but nevertheless it was the shot that was heard all over the world. David Bowie made an surprise announcement on his birthday about not only a new song, but also a new video and the announcement of a new album called "The Next Day." The single "Where We Are Now"" strikes me as one of the great Bowie songs. One, because of Bowie's performance of that song, but also the remarkable version that was made within hours of its release by Momus. And as much as I love the Bowie original, the Momus version hits me quite hard.
But back to the original, Bowie's concept of releasing this song is uber-special. Genius-like. I and the world pretty much accepted his retirement, and I truly thought that there was zero possibility of him doing another 'new' album. But then on his birthday (of all days) he announces not only a new single, but the album with the song list, and ...even the album cover
When I saw this, I thought 'oh god this is too good.' I think this album cover will be up there with Sgt Pepper, Elvis' first RCA album, Never Mind The Bullocks, etc. and etc. A classic. At the age of 66, Bowie is doing something genius like. He has his groove and moment back! And then there is his video
The perfect storm. A piece of work that has tons of Bowie's past as a reference. One can study this forever and perhaps what is there is something that leads to his past (besides the German/Low reference). But nevertheless, we have the single "Where Are We Now" which is superb and so subjective Bowie, and the beauty of the song is him announcing a certain amount of feelings that we 'know' his part of his history. Therefore we have an immediate reaction to this song, knowing that there was no new Bowie material for the past ten years, and accepting the fact that this was that. But no, the surprise of it all was 'wow,' and then hearing something that sounded so personal as the first piece of music from Bowie in ten (exactly) years - no, a statement in fact - was incredible. And to be honest the people who will be effected the most are from my generation - and we fell in love again with the Bowie myth, his taste, and just the great talent that he is.
The beauty of this song is in the melody, but the added textures (and pop is all about the extras) brings it to a specific time in one's life - and for those who are long-term Bowie fans (which is basically my social group, and those who are not, I have no interest in you). The song lists specific spaces that Bowie has a strong feeling for. Not people, but locations that is almost his Proust eating a cookie feeling. And I feel strongly for this song lyrically wise, because I too have a strong feeling of location or placement more then people. The 'dead' you feel the traces but you see the locations. And the locations survive or exist beyond the 'dead.' And that's the sad beauty of "Where We Are Now?"
Within hours of Bowie's surprise release, Momus put his version of the song up on YouTube:
i suspect Momus as being in my family of Bowie fanatics, but his cover goes beyond the song itself, and lands right in Bowie's lap. He takes it to a more personal level, and one can think that he was totally moved when he heard the original version, and therefore here's his love letter to not only Bowie, but acknowledging the greatness of the song and reacting to it. And that he does well. His version of
"Where We Are Now?'" is amazing.
And we should acknowledge the Associates also released a Bowie song the same day of the master's release.
I discovered Jake Thackray through a review in MOJO Magazine of his box set that came out some years ago. i was intrigued because the reviewer compared him to an English verison of Jacques Brel. Actually he's more of a Northern British version of the great French Marxist songwriter Georges Brassens. And also he reminds me of early David Bowie (pre-Space Oddity) and Scott Walker. Here's a man who was influenced by the French song, yet turned it around and made it very British sounding genre. He was an unique artist. I hope he doesn't mind, but I am going to quote Momus (a man of great taste) from his website regarding the talents of the late and great Jake Thackray. I got this at: imomus.com/ dailyphoto271202.html
Le Grand Jake Jake Thackray Remembered
'When I go, I don't care what happens to me. They can put me in a rubbish bag and throw me off the end of the pier for all I care.'
Jake Thakray, Le Grand Jake, one of Britain's greatest and most interesting songwriters, died today aged 63. In the vague vicinity of the pier he may be-- that evocative, rotting, somewhat forgotten pier of the British vaudeville tradition -- but nobody will be throwing him or his memory off it. Jake Thackray is going to be remembered with, I think, surprising upswellings of affection and admiration.
Before Morrissey was the last of the viciously tender, caustic vaudevillians, Jake was the last of the topical satirical francophile chansonniers. They don't make them like Jake any more, but if you wanted to make a Jake in your mind you'd have to gene-spice DNA from people like Jacques Brel, Tom Lehrer, Georges Brassens, Tom Waits, Paolo Conte, Rob Wilton and early 'Uncle Arthur'-period David Bowie.
He was a perverse bugger, Jake. So very English and yet so essentially French, so vehement and yet so whispery, so underrated for a man who was, in the 60s, a 'household face', so very electronic for a folk singer, so populist for one so aloof and didactic. Jake, savage and yet tender, caustic and yet sentimental, so timeless and so topical! Great Jake, austerely hieratic yet surprisingly sexy, sexist, smutty, saucy, in such a sixties way! Jake, smooth, mild, sinister and cheeky as milk!
Yes, you could be forgiven for thinking him flung away and forgotten in 21st century Britain, off the pier, off the Fringe, off the map. But only last month I made an iTunes playlist for mp3s of Jake's songs, and went, I don't know why, ransacking websites for photos of the young Jake, wide-lipped and handsome as a god, and the old Jake, a bit bloated and old-blokey, snapped by fans in his modest retirement on a street in Monmouth, next to a coach or a car park, with a plastic bag in his hand.
I've been fascinated by him for as long as I've been conscious. There's Jake in a roll neck sweater, amusing my parents on a small black and white TV in 1968 with his pointed, surreal, topical songs on the David Frost programme. There's me in my Chelsea bedsit twenty years later, learning how to play his fantastic, Brechtian song 'The Bull':
The bull, the bull He's the biggest of all He is the boss, he is Because he's big and we are small But the bigger the bull (bigger the bull) Bigger the balls The bigger the bull the bigger and thicker and The bigger and thicker and quicker and The bigger and thicker and quicker and slicker the bullshite falls!
There's Jake on vinyl, influencing my own work like crazy, ending up on every compilation tape I made for friends. There's Jake performing at the Edinburgh Fringe, dressed in a dark suit and tie, one foot up on a wooden chair in the style of the classic French chansonnier. There's modest, cool, beloved Jake asking an endlessly applauding audience if they haven't got a home to go to? There's Jake in live bootleg tapes recorded in smoky folk cellars, Jake post-TV, literally going underground in an 80s too fascist and psycho to understand his gentle, humane 60s satire.
There's Jake talking to me on the phone in the late 80s, agreeing to be interviewed for the NME -- it was to be my first and only interview assignment for the paper -- telling me, a non-driver, details of how to meet him in some brewery pub off some roundabout near some motorway after one of his Radio 4 appearances. And there's just a Jake-shaped space when, over an hour late, I finally find the place. A Jake-shaped space that, with his passing, is now permanent.
Now that he's gone, there will be the chance to raise him to his rightful place in the pantheon of dark comic masters, creators of odd, touching, telling, comical worlds. He'll be there with Kafka, Chaucer, Ivor Cutler, Jacques Tati, and Francois Villon. He'll be alongside his great mentor Brassens.
There will be documentaries, illustrated with classic archive performances from 60s TV, unwiped by the BBC. There will be CD rereleases, and a chance to listen again, above all, to those brilliant, oddly troubling story-songs: Lah Di Dah, Leopold Alcocks, One-Eyed Isaac, The Bull, The Jolly Captain, The Lodger. New generations will wonder at their stilted phrasing, their tender misogyny, their clumsy demotic elegance and homespun technical brilliance; songs as fakely folkish and comically compelling as the stories of Moliere, Boccacio, Plautus or Juvenal.
Put him in Westminster Abbey, then throw that off the end of the pier.
Momus, December 27th, 2002
Jake Thackray performing Georges Brassens' "Brother Gorilla"
A mini-documentary on Jake Thackray from the 'Look North" program.
Spotlight on … Jacques Roubaud The Loop (1992)
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‘Jacques Roubaud is a playful, puzzling, erudite, at times obscure, yet
at other times thoroughly moving “composer” (as he puts it) of poetry and
prose. ...
Happy Birthday Elliott Gould
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Happy Birthday to one of the all-time greats and one of the coolest of the
cool Elliott Gould. From my 2019 New Beverly interview with Elliott Gould
about ...
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