2017 Discography Review Challenge: BJÖRK GUÐMUNDSDÓTTIR & TRÍÓ GUÐMUNDAR INGÓLFSSONAR – Gling-Gló (1990)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov


Ah, the 1990s! The decade that would bring our heroine worldwide fame and glory! But at the very beginning of this decade she was still just a young promising vocalist in a European alt rock band barely known outside Iceland.

At the end of my review of Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week I said that The Sugarcubes went on a hiatus after that album, and it looks like Björk saw it as a chance of trying something new, at the same time taking a rest from all the post-punky experimentalism she engaged in with her three previous bands. And Björk, as you’d imagine, isn’t someone to settle for just ONE new thing to try, so here’s a list of all the new stuff she tried during that hiatus:

  • She played some clarinet in a big-band called Hljómsveit Kondráds;
  • She recorded backing vocals for an album named Gums by a band named Bless;
  • She recorded a lounge jazz album, and this latter one actually became her best-selling record in her home country FOR YEARS TO COME! Imagine that!

This latter effort is also the one I am reviewing today, since it feels significant enough for Björk’s subsequent career. So, Björk joins a fairly successful Icelandic trio of pianist Guðmundur Ingólfsson, drummer Guðmundur Steingrímsson and bassist Þórður Högnason and they create this little almost-forgotten gem.

I will say outright that I have a really soft spot for this record: yes, it is a collection of pretty basic lounge jazz covers of some popular Icelandic and English-language standards instrumentally performed in a pretty generic way. But at the same time the record has two very obvious and pretty undeniable advantages:

  1. It is so unassuming, humble and almost childishly lightweight that it’s literally impossible to criticize these very simple renditions of several jazz tunes, intended to be just that – simple renditions of several jazz tunes and even a couple of silly children’s numbers. Even the album’s title suggests that – it can be literally translated to English as “ding-dong” (i.e. the sound that bells make, not what some of you have just imagined!).
  2. Björk’s singing. OH MY GOD SHE COULD HAVE BEEN A JAZZ QUEEN. Her unique charisma, raw emotionality and fantastic range make these lounge pieces sound so alive, so frantic, so filled with passion and so unique! Listen to stuff like Kata Rokkar and tell me it does not sound absolutely ecstatic while at the same time being so boyishly cute. God, her ability of being so many things within just one song is astounding! All the intricacies of her voice rising, falling, jumping, shrieking, then gently floating and then madly rushing again, while staying so human and relatable at all times, make you completely forget about the generic playing and enjoy the fun ride.

The only thing I dislike about this record, apart from that generic playing, is that alongside great stuff like the aforementioned Kata Rokkar or Pabbi Minn or Litli tónlistarmaðurinn or Tondeleyo or Ruby Baby, there are also subpar songs which Björk still does well, but these songs provide her much less room to really shine, and hence they don’t feel as idiosyncratic. But on the whole this is one enjoyable record if you’re at all into vocal jazz, I promise you that.

Tune in next time, when we are going to follow Björk as she wraps up her band career before completely embarking on her solo musical journey.

2017 Discography Review Challenge: THE SUGARCUBES – Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week! (1989)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov


And here we go again! Hope you missed me and my Björkish reviews!

So, the year is 1989, and the followup Sugarcubes album has just been released, a little over a year after the debut. I’ll state right away that it is not nearly as good. The vibe is still there, the jovial energy is also still present, but the songwriting isn’t at all interesting this time around. Another problem is that for some reason they decided that Einar Örn should do as much vocals as Björk. Baaaaad mistake, Sugarcubes. I could actually end my review right here because I honestly think that only hardcore Björk or Sugarcubes fans should bother with this record. But on the other hand that would be doing this album grave  injustice, because it isn’t bad at all! In fact, if Life’s Too Good never existed, I would quite enjoy Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week! So, instead of bashing the hell out of it I’ll try to concentrate on the good things:

  1. The bass playing is very consistent throughout the record, kudos to Bragi Ólafsson! Sigtryggur Baldursson’s neat drumming complements it nicely, too.
  2. The songs are mostly short and fast, which makes them enjoyable even if they’re not very memorable.
  3. The guitar licks are very new-wavy which somehow makes this record janglier than its predecessor.
  4. Björk’s singing is great as always (It’s when Einar Örn opens his mouth that problems begin, and BOY does he sing a lot here, unfortunately).
  5. (Have to make them at least five, have to make them at least five) Weeeell… Errrr…. The fifth advantage of this album would be… would be… Well, the album’s title is interesting, I guess? (A piece of trivia: It’s a reference to Wind in the Willows!) Maybe not. Whatever.

So… yeah. That’s it. Overall it’s just an okay album, so if you’re a casual fan, get Life’s Too Good and be happy with it. Cause this one is really basically the same, only worse in several aspects.

The Sugarcubes themselves probably understood that too and went on a hiatus right after finishing their tour to promote this record.

Tune in next time, when we find out what is it exactly that her Björkishness was busy with during said hiatus.


Review by: Josh Price


Following the modest success of Yellow Magic Orchestra’s eponymous debut, they went on a small national tour. It was intended to be the end of the Yellow Magic Orchestra project, but then something happened. They were noticed. Noticed by a promoter who had a tasty deal for them. Specifically, worldwide promotion. Naturally, they gobbled that deal right up and decided to become an actual band.

Their first album was remixed and re-released in the US in 1979, and ‘Firecracker’ became a pretty moderate hit over there (it was marketed over there as ‘Computer Games’, which was probably a flub on the distributors’ part). During their 1980 world tour, they even stopped by to play the song on Soul Train! You can find the clip of them performing it plus an interview with a bemused Don Cornelius on YouTube if you’re interested.

Anyway, this album wasn’t released at the time in the West, at least in this format (more on that in a future review), but this was the album that made YMO superstars in Japan.

While their self-titled debut was a juicy concoction of exotica, jazz fusion, disco and synthpop, their sophomore album places an emphasis on upbeat, catchy new wavey synth tunes. Since they were now an actual band, and not a Hosono-led side-project, the recording and writing process for this album was much more democratic, with songwriting duties being equally split between the three.

Ryuichi Sakamoto starts things off with the song ‘Technopolis’. It’s almost entirely instrumental, but you’re also greeted with vocoded vocals courtesy of Sakamoto himself. His vocals consist entirely of him either saying “Tokyo” or spelling out “Technopolis”, but sometimes that’s all ya really need, y’know? It’s a great song and a fantastic opener. That chorus melody just can’t be beat. However, if you listen to their first album and this album back to back, you will notice the difference in production. Whereas their first album sounds very crisp, clear and upfront, you’ll notice that on ‘Technopolis’ that the separate parts aren’t as well-balanced in the mix, and there’s like a weird kinda slapback delay on those synth parts. Additionally, whenever Sakamoto spells out “Technopolis”, each letter gets more and more out-of-sync with the rest of the tune. I don’t think was intentional because in every other version I’ve heard them do, Sakamoto spells out the word perfectly on-sync. Also, what’s up with the drum track taking slightly longer than all the other tracks to fade out? You almost think it’s gonna segue into another track, but then it doesn’t. Still sounds kinda cool, so maybe it was intentional.

That concludes my ‘Technopolis’ nitpicking. Fantastic song otherwise.

Next up we have a song from Hosono called ‘Absolute Ego Dance’. It’s —

Hang on, speaking of absolute ego, fellow Tomymostalas reviewer Jonathan Moss has something to say about this album! Over to Moss!

“This album is really good.”

Hey, Josh again! Thank you for that, Mossy. You took the words right out of my mouth.

So, anyway, ‘Absolute Ego Dance’ has an eccentric, almost exotic-sounding little verse melody that’s countered by a glorious major-key chorus melody. It’s not as hard-hitting as the other big hitters on this album, but like ‘Mad Pierrot’ on the previous album, the more you listen to it the more addictive it becomes. It’s catchy, it’s loopy and so Hosono. Which gets me thinking, there should be a sitcom called That’s So Hosono. Or at least a television movie called that.

The third track on the album was not only the biggest hit on the album, but is also probably the most recognizable YMO track (in Japan anyway). Written by Yukihiro Takahashi, ‘Rydeen’ represents everything great about YMO at this stage of their career. Every melody the song offers is well-written and feels like a hook in its own right, the beat is invigorating and never lets up, and just when you think the song can’t get any better, you get that little laser battle interlude followed by the final triumphant echoes of that final melody. It’s as exciting as it is beautiful. Only nitpick I can come up with is that when they repeat the main melody at 1:45 instead of going back into the bridge, it seems a bit overkill. But hell, a melody like that is worth repeating. I would know, I’ve listened to the song perhaps a hundred times and it’s never gotten old.

We close out side one with another Sakamoto number, ‘Castalia’, which is about as far-removed from the previous three tracks as you could imagine. It’s downtempo, ponderous and lacks a clear hook. But it’s nice! In a way, it’s almost a foreshadowing of what YMO and especially Sakamoto would be doing later in their careers. Those melodies are strangely beautiful and the track is probably the best-sounding production-wise on the album. So, y’know, you probably won’t be listening to it much on its own, but coming in between two of YMO’s hardest-hitting songs, it makes for a nice breather of sorts.

And yes, the opening track on side 2, ‘Behind the Mask’ hits hard, bro. You have that verse with that loopy chord progression and spacey melody and then you have that chorus with Sakamoto’s vocoded vocals and Hosono’s throbbing bass. The melodies are, as you might expect, fantastic. You know who’d agree with me? Quincy Jones. He liked the song so much when he visited Japan in the early 80’s, that he tried to obtain permission for Michael Jackson to sing it on ‘Thriller’. They made a demo for it and everything, and Sakamoto was quite interested in the prospect, but YMO’s management eventually declined for whatever reason. It’s a shame, Sakamoto and co. surely would have made a mean buck, and it would have been cool to know that the best-selling album of all time had a YMO tune on it. But oh well. In a long convoluted series of events, Eric Clapton ended up covering the tune on one of his albums, and it was produced by none other than Phil Collins. It’s probably the best Eric Clapton song.

A lot of people like to shit on YMO’s cover of ‘Day Tripper’, but I love it. I just love the idea of taking this sacred cow of a tune, and completely stretching it until it’s unrecognizable. Quirky vocals, herky-jerky stop-start rhythms, jazzy chord changes and a weird-ass guitar solo. I love it. In fact, I secretly love it more than the original version. Shhhh, this is just between you and me, faithful reader. Don’t tell anyone or we’ll be sure to ban you from this blog! Maybe.

‘Insomnia’ is sort of another breather track that appears before the final track. Written by Hosono, it has a bit of a daunting minor-key melody and foggy atmosphere that perfectly evokes the feeling of insomnia. It’s also the longest track on the album, and honestly you can tell. It feels a tiny bit repetitive, but that said, I love all the different parts. That main melody, the part with those doomy descending synths, Hosono’s vocoded part, it’s all good stuff! I think the fact that I still think the weakest track on the album is fantastic just speaks to how much I love this album.

And then you have the grand finale, the title track, written by Takahashi. It’s one of my favorite YMO songs. Why? To put it simply, it has it all. A breakneck tempo, quirky chord progressions, triumphant synth melodies, and a vocal part from Takahashi that’s just the epitome of cool. His vocals sound great, considering he was a bit of a shaky vocalist at that point in time. And I dunno, the urgent guitar, those creepy distorted samples, the production. Really, I don’t think there’s anything I dislike on this track!

All of these songs add up to make what would end up being not only a huge hit in Japan, but also the best-selling album of 1980 over there, aided by the success of the singles ‘Rydeen’ and ‘Technopolis’. It even started off what was to become known as the ‘technopop craze’ in Japan. Many young bands started up synth bands, existing bands traded in guitars for synths and mainstream pop music became increasingly influenced by electronic pop. Some of it was even produced and written by the YMO guys themselves!

This is one of my favorite albums ever (you can tell because I had to resort to nitpicks for criticism). While the production is a bit weaker than their previous album, the songs are arguably stronger overall. You just can’t beat some of these tracks. If you like catchy electronic music at all, you can’t pass this album by. Listen to it right now. Sell all your Aerosmith records to listen to this if you must. It’ll be worth it!

– Absolute Ego Dance
– Rydeen
– Behind the Mask
– Day Tripper
– Solid State Survivor


Review by: Josh Price


If I’m not mistaken, it would appear early pressings of this album were marketed as ‘Yellow Magic Orchestra’ by Haruomi Hosono. Whether this was the case or not, it’s a pretty good indicator of how YMO functioned at the time. Not many people realize this but Hosono was very much the mastermind of the project. He came up with the concept, formed the band and produced the whole thing.

Hosono had actually been experimenting with the ‘Yellow Magic’ concept for a little while before this album was recorded. Back in 1975, he recorded a song with his band Tin Pan Alley titled ‘Yellow Magic Carnival’, and in early 1978 he released ‘Paraiso’, a solo album credited to Harry Hosono & the Yellow Magic Band (which wasn’t a precursor to YMO; there was no concrete backing band for the album and Sakamoto and Yukihiro Takahashi only appear on a couple tracks).

So what was the ‘Yellow Magic’ concept anyway? You might have heard of a little music genre called exotica. If you haven’t, I’ll bring you up to speed. Back in the late 50’s and early 60’s, there was a trend of Western, primarily American composers making albums that were intended to emulate the music of foreign countries, especially tropical and Asian ones. In reality, it was pretty much loungey easy listening music mixed with slightly caricatured interpretations of world music, but it was very popular with older American folk back then. The whole concept fascinated Hosono, and he experimented with it quite a bit, melding it with the folk and funk styles he’d already been playing, and then with electronic music once YMO came around.

And as for the band name, ‘yellow magic’ was a play on black magic, which was very popular at the time in Japan. And why orchestra? I believe it had something to do with Hosono’s belief that you could make music as intricately layered as an orchestra with just a couple synthesizers.

Remember what I said about Hosono being the prime mover of the band (at least back then)? Well, if you needed any more proof of that, the entire first side of this album was composed or (in the case of the one cover on the album) arranged by him. It opens with a short introductory track, ‘Computer Game (Theme from The Circus)’, where the band attempt to emulate various arcade soundtracks of the time with just their synthesizers. And it sounds so close to the real thing that for the longest time I thought they were just sampled! It’s worth noting that Hosono also had a huge interest in early video game soundtracks, and would elaborate on the concept with his 1984 solo album ‘Video Game Music’.

Halfway through the track, a funky drumbeat courtesy of Takahashi comes in, cutting through all the arcadey noises and eventually seguing into the first proper track on the album, ‘Firecracker’. So, remember we were just talking about exotica? Well, this track is a cover of a song by one of the leading exotica composers, Martin Denny. As you might imagine, the original track from 1959 was Denny’s attempt to write a song inspired by traditional Oriental music, specifically Chinese folk music but with hints of Japanese folk music as well. So for a group of actual Japanese musicians to put their own spin on it and make it their own again is hilarious and brilliant. And yes, they knew exactly what they were doing.

But man do they make it their own. By taking a quaint little exotica tune, raising the tempo and adding a funk beat, classical piano flourishes (courtesy of Ryuichi Sakamoto) and an irresistible bassline, they wind up creating a pop classic. It’s immensely enjoyable even if you don’t know about the concept behind the cover.

After the firecracker explosion that caps off that track, we head straight into ‘Simoon’. One thing that immediately struck me about this song when I first heard it was that the first half sounded like it could’ve been ripped right out of the soundtrack for a quirky N64/GameCube game. Animal Crossing, maybe? It’s sort of a synthesized lounge song that sounds like it could be playing in some intergalactic bar. It’s a wonderful tune, and I love the key change where a synth part that sounds like pitch-shifted radio frequencies starts echoing the main synth lead. However, I do have some qualms with the song. During the second half, guest vocalist Shunichi Hashimoto starts duetting a melody with a vocoded voice (Hosono? Hashimoto himself?), and personally his crooning is a bit much for me. I would have preferred if they would have just stuck with the vocoded vocals for that part, but I suppose that’s nitpicking. Other than that, great song with sublime melodies all around.

Next we have “Cosmic Surfin'”, which is, as you might expect, something of a synthesized surf song. It’s another really good song, but this version is probably my least favorite. I far prefer all the live versions they did, where they ditched the loopy rhumba groove and replaced it with a straightforward uptempo surf beat. You can find a particularly good live version on their album ‘Public Pressure’. It’s much more propulsive and the melodies really get a chance to shine. There’s also a really good studio version on ‘Pacific’, a collaboration album between Haruomi Hosono, Tatsuro Yamashita and Shigeru Suzuki released earlier in 1978. Despite that, the only musicians featured on that track are Hosono and the other two YMO guys, Sakamoto and Yukihiro Takahashi. On there, they also go for a more straightforward 4/4 beat, but it’s a bit more midtempo than future live versions. Not only is it a good listen, but it’s pretty interesting in the context of YMO’s history as well, being one of the earliest tracks out there to feature just those three guys.

After that, we close out side one with, ‘Computer Game (Theme from The Invader)’, a quick reprisal of the first track on the album. And then it’s on to side two we go.

Whereas the first side of the album is very Hosono-centric, the second side is much more democratic, with all three members contributing a song each, with interludes in between. Accordingly, side two starts off with a Ryuichi Sakamoto tune, ‘Tong Poo’. It might be my favorite YMO tune, but it would be hard for me to pinpoint why. I just know that every melody in the song is either cathartic or groovy, and oftentimes both. I’m sure Sakamoto feels similarly, as it’s one of the few YMO tunes he still regularly plays in his solo sets. I should note that I’ve been focusing on the original Japanese version of this album for this review, but a slightly remixed version was released in 1979 for Western audiences. One of the most notable changes was the addition of guest female vocals during the sparse jam section of ‘Tong Poo’. They complement the music better than you’d expect, and I often sing it to myself when I’m listening to the Japanese version, but they’re a little bit cheesy and I think I prefer the song without them. But anyway, amazing song. It’s difficult for me to articulate why I like it so much but simply put, it’s beautiful. Also, check out Hosono’s bass playing next time you listen to it. That man sure knew how to lay down a groove.

The drum beat at the end of ‘Tong Poo’ segues into Yukihiro Takahashi’s number, ‘La Femme Chinoise’, which is a fascinating blend of Kraftwerk and French pop with Oriental imagery. Takahashi himself sings during the second half of the song, making it the only song on the album with proper lead vocals (the guest vocals on ‘Simoon’ being heavily obscured by the duetting vocoder vocals). His vocals are a bit rough, especially the first couple of lines. He wouldn’t become a very good singer until 1981, when YMO started putting more of an emphasis on vocal parts. However, his earnestness shines through and his vocals are nonetheless pretty charming. As for the main synth melody, it’s very catchy but it was a bit simplistic for me the first couple times I heard it. It’s grown on me since, and I think it’s very well-written.

After that song, we’re greeted with a short interlude titled ‘Bridge Over Troubled Music’, the title of which is obviously a loveably bizarre allusion to ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’. It’s mostly Sakamoto noodling around, playing jazzy stuff on a synth. At one point it starts to sound like the beginning of an actual song, with the Sakamoto’s synth chords locking into a groove with Takahashi’s kick drum, but it quickly fizzles away and then segues into the next track, “Mad Pierrot”, Hosono’s offering for side two.

It’s probably the least immediate song on the album, the melodies being a bit more obscured and idiosyncratic. But once those melodies hook you in, the song goes from being the least assuming track on the album to one of the most addictive. The production is just so dense (in a good way) and immaculately layered for 1978, it’s almost unbelievable, especially compared to what Kraftwerk were doing that same year on ‘The Man Machine’.

On the American version, that’s the last track, but on the Japanese version you’re greeted to one last quick track titled ‘Acrobat’, which is to me the proper ending to the album. It’s sort of the final edition to the ‘Computer Games’ trilogy, bringing the album full circle.

I brought it up a little while ago, but one of the most outstanding elements of this album is the production. Whereas even future YMO albums could sound a little dated or awkward, the production on here is crisp and extremely solid. It’s so good it sounds like it could have been made twenty years later. Hell, it could have been released today and still sound fresh (the thin drum sound aside)! It’s arguably the best-sounding YMO album, with only ‘BGM’ and ‘Technodelic’ being the other strong contenders for the crown. It’s also one of the most solid YMO albums, in my opinion. While all of their albums have great moments, there’s nary a second on here I dislike, and very few moments that I think don’t work very well.

When this album came out, it was intended to be the end of the Yellow Magic Orchestra project, and all the members were to go on doing their thing. However, the album was popular enough that they decided to play a couple shows around Japan, which is when they noticed by a promoter who had a deal for them.

What was the deal, you ask??? Find out in the next episode of ‘The Yellow Magic Orchestra Chronicles’, hosted by me, some guy talking about Japanese synthpop on the internet. Stay tuned!

– Firecracker
– Simoon
– Tong Poo
– Mad Pierrot


Written by: Josh Price


When discussing the birth of electronic pop music, many people like to mention Kraftwerk but very few seem to mention their Japanese contemporaries Yellow Magic Orchestra. Of course, Kraftwerk first started toying with the idea of synthesized pop in 1974 with ‘Autobahn’, whereas YMO didn’t even form for another four years. But whereas Kraftwerk’s brand of synthpop was cold, minimalist and mechanic, YMO were coming from somewhere else entirely. Their music was intricately layered, drew from influences of all kinds (traditional and contemporary) and was, dare I say it, quite fun for the most part!

Yellow Magic Orchestra first came to be in 1978, and all three members already had respectable musical backgrounds at that point. Haruomi Hosono, bassist, producer and mastermind of the project, originally played bass in 60’s psych-rock band Apryl Fool, which eventually morphed into the legendary 70’s supergroup Happy End. When that band broke up in 1973, Hosono went on to release multiple solo albums (in a folksy/tropical/funk vein) and to work as a session musician/songwriter for many popular contemporary artists.

Drummer Yukihiro Takahashi originally played for a prog-rock band called the Sadistic Mika Band. They were signed to Harvest Records in the UK and promoted rather heavily over there. When some core members left the group, they rebranded themselves as the Sadistics and started making jazz fusion. Takahashi had also made a name for himself as a pop songwriter and session drummer by the time he joined YMO.

Head keyboardist Ryuichi Sakamoto graduated from the University of Tokyo, where he had studied both electronic and world music. Upon graduation in 1973, he lived a bit of a double life in which he experimented with avant-garde/minimalist music (his first album in 1975 was a free improvisation collaboration with percussionist Toshiyuki Tsuchitori) and also produced/wrote contemporary pop music, especially city pop. When he joined YMO, he was a very in-demand session keyboardist.

The interesting thing about YMO is that they were not initially a “band” per se. Their first album, released in 1978, was intended to be a one-off studio project where they messed around with faux-Oriental exotica and merged it with disco beats and state-of-the-art synthesizers. The album was popular enough that they played a couple shows throughout Japan. During one of these shows, they were noticed by a promoter who offered them a worldwide promotion deal. It was at that point that YMO became a real band, and they went on to record and tour extensively until their breakup in 1983.

With their second album, Solid State Survivor (1979), the band started putting more of an emphasis on snappy mostly instrumental synthpop tunes, which is what finally got them to break through in Japan. The album became the best selling album of 1980 over there, and spawned what would become known as the ‘technopop craze’. Not only did many aspiring Japanese synth/new wave bands come up in their wake, but the YMO guys themselves started writing and producing pop music for other contemporary pop acts, bringing their unique synthpop sound with them. The band even embarked on a successful world tour in 1980.

By 1981, their music started becoming increasingly more abstract. They released two albums that year. The first, ‘BGM’, was the very first(!) album to feature the Roland TR-808 drum machine and featured ambient soundscapes along with fantastic pop tunes. The second, ‘Technodelic’ was one of the earliest instances of a pop album being made almost entirely of pre-recorded samples, predating even the Art of Noise. Due to their immense popularity, these albums still sold well and even received very positive reviews (rightfully so), but were greeted with confusion and reservation from fans who were expecting more catchy synth numbers a la their earlier work.

After a brief hiatus in 1982 (during which Sakamoto wrote his first soundtrack for the film ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’, which he also starred in), YMO returned in 1983 with ‘Naughty Boys’, a complete departure from their previous albums. Basically, it was a straight-up J-pop album with upfront lead vocals and everything. But it wasn’t just J-pop. It was gorgeous, wonderfully layered and extremely well-written J-pop. The public seemed to agree, because the single ‘Kimi ni Mune Kyun’ (which translates very roughly to ‘My Heart Beats For You’) was one of the best-selling singles of 1983, and returned YMO to ultra-superstar status. The band then put out one more somewhat hodgepodge album (‘Service’), played at the Budokan and the finally called it quits that same year.

All three members continued to have fruitful solo careers following the demise of YMO. Sakamoto continued to produce pop music, but also became an extremely well-respected film composer. He won an Oscar AND a Grammy in 1988 and 1989 (respectively) for his work on the movie ‘The Last Emperor’, and was even nominated at this year’s Grammys for ‘The Revenant’! Sometime in the 2000’s, he retired from pop music and started focusing primarily on abstract electronic music, as well as avant-garde symphonic music and modern classical piano pieces.

Takahashi continued to make pop music in a similar vein to ‘Naughty Boys’ and became a prolific producer. Sometime in the 90’s, he shifted from mainstream pop to slightly more obtuse glitch pop, and is now in the band Metafive with Cornelius, Towa Tei, Yoshinori Sunahara and others.

Hosono made a big name for himself as a producer. He worked with huge national pop stars like Seiko Matsuda and Akina Nakamori, collaborated with people like James Brown and even wrote the title theme for Hayao Miyazaki’s proto-Ghibli movie ‘Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind’. His solo music became increasingly eccentric over the years, but these days it seems he’s returned to his roots and primarily plays folksy exotica music.

YMO actually reformed in 1993, going on a tour and even recording a new album titled ‘Technodon’. It was an interesting house-inspired little affair, but it didn’t sell spectacularly well and proved to be a curiosity only to longtime YMO fans.

So, I like YMO a lot, as you might be able to tell. In fact I’d say they’re probably my favorite band. So if you’re here because you’re curious about this band and want to learn about their history and where to start with them, then you’ve come to the right place, bucko. Or if you’re already a fan and just want to see some nerd yammering on about them, you’ve also come to the right place.

So enjoy the reviews broseph.


Review by: John Short


The debut outing for Primus is a live album, recorded in February and March of 1989 and documenting one of the earliest shows by what is commonly considered to be the “classic” Primus lineup of Les Claypool on bass, Larry LaLonde on guitar, and Tim Alexander on drums.

And its good! Very good in fact. The band run through a setlist of songs that mostly would be rerecorded in studio a year later with a level of intensity and verve that is shocking if one is only acquainted with the rerecorded studio versions, as I was when I originally bought this album.

The album opens up with a brief cover of Rush’s YYZ before plunging straight into possibly the most famous Primus song, John the Fisherman. This is quite simply one of the catchiest and most memorable tracks to ever spring from the collective minds of Claypool, Lalonde and Alexander, and its bizarre narrative about a boy who dreams of fishing and his ultimate fate never ceases to amuse me. This version of Groundhog’s Day is less engaging to me, perhaps because it is almost identical to the studio version, but it is swiftly surpassed by the next four songs, the only tracks on the album not to have been rerecorded for Frizzle Fry.

The Heckler is an aggressive, jerky, funky song that chronicles the tale of well, a heckler (and describes them in REALLY unflattering terms). It wouldn’t make it to a studio album for almost 10 years, and the eventual studio version of the song is the weaker for this fact.

The Pressman is a slow track, and probably the closest to its studio version of these four, but it is slightly more energetic in this incarnation, so overall I suppose I prefer it to the studio version on Pork Soda.

Jellikit is probably the most interesting track on here, being the only song on the album that was never released on a Primus studio album (Although a radically different studio version recorded around the same time as Pork Soda was featured on the soundtrack to the 1994 comedy Airheads). It’s also possibly the most aggressive, Claypool’s screaming verging on death metal growls during the chorus.

Meanwhile Tommy The Cat is universally considered to be a god-tier Primus classic, but i’ve never been 100% in love with it. This version is superior in energy (and ability to understand the lyrics) but at the end of the day I think I prefer the version with Tom Waits on Sailing The Seas Of Cheese.

The final three songs are almost identical to the studio versions, and so I will postpone discussion of them until the Fizzle Fry to review.

In short, Suck on this is a fine live album and an excellent introduction to Primus as a band. The band displays a fearsome energy that their studio albums only hint at, while the humorous onstage banter (everybody say “Larry you’re a bastard” ) only serves to enrich the experience further. I highly recommend Suck On This, and award it 8/10


Written by: John Short


Often when I encounter people who dislike the mainstream alternative rock scene of the 1990s, I will point them to one of several off-the-beaten path bands that became popular during the early part (pre-1996) of the decade, and Primus is always one of the first that I mention. One of the most successful of a large group of left-of-center bands who broke into the mainstream concurrently with the grunge/alternative rock boom of the 1990s, Primus are in my opinion nothing short of one of the greatest bands to emerge out of that cynical, flannel clad decade.

While originating in the California funk-metal scene of the late 80s, Les Claypool and cohorts presented a radically different take on the genre then the girl-crazy opiate-addled whiteboy-funk offered up by contemporaries such as the Red Hot Chili Peppers and early Faith No More. The music offered on the first two Primus albums is essentially funk metal turned sideways, with a heavy helping of weirdness for flavouring, while psychedelic and progressive rock influences become increasingly apparent on Pork Soda and Tales From The Punchbowl, before being toned down massively for the more rootsy and retro-rock Brown album and the highly commercial and Nu-metal tinged Antipop. The band effectively broke up in 2000, and although they reconvened with the original drummer Tim Alexander for an EP in 2003 and toured throughout the decade, it would be over a decade before Primus would release a comeback album in 2011 and a cover of the Willy Wonka Soundtrack in 2014.

With the slobbering adulation out of the way, I will address some of the more obvious faults of this band. Primus are not particularly original: they borrow heavily from both Frank Zappa and the Residents in their comedic zaniness, while owing an obvious debt to earlier funk and thrash metal acts (indeed, Les Claypool went to high school with Kirk Hammett and auditioned for Cliff Burton’s spot in Metallica following the latter’s tragic death in 1986) Like many other 90s bands Primus do not create something new so much as synthesize what has come before into a chimeric sound that is novel and interesting, but nonetheless may not satisfy those who place a high premium on originality in music.

Primus (and indeed any project that Les Claypool is fronting) are not particularly diverse: get used to funk metal, sea shanties, and bass-heavy prog with this band, because they really don’t do much else, and barring a few significant detours (Pork Soda, Brown Album, Antipop) the majority of Primus’s recorded output sounds very similar.

With that said, if one can accept these faults Primus are an extremely rewarding group. The instrumental prowess of the band is very high, while the often nonsensical lyrics and themes of the band (Pigs, Fish, cheese, etc) provide amusement for the inner child/immature teenager in all of us. In short, this is just a fun band, and one that I highly recommend to anyone who has a taste for humor and wackiness in their music.

JAKE’S COLUMN: THE WHO- The Who Sings My Generation (1965)

Review by: Jake Myers 


Rating: 8/10

Best Songs: “The Good’s Gone”, “My Generation”, “The Kids Are Alright”
Worst Songs: “I Don’t Mind”, “Please, Please, Please”

One thing that’s always fun to imagine is how your average listener in 1965, having just opened the sleeve and put the needle down on this album for the first time, would have reacted. When those first rumbles of feedback came echoing through the speakers, or when the insistent “You don’t know me, no!” chants first appeared, it must have been an exhilarating signal of a new kind of spirit in rock music.

Something we all could have done without, though, is the two James Brown covers. The band may have been rooted deeply in RnB, but to throw out their rocking spirit completely was a mistake. The two songs stumble along without the melodic force of the source material, each instead preferring a bland kind of drone. No thanks.

To be sure, the title track is the best on here. Right from the opening, with the urgent, slamming riff we all know and love and the mocking, stuttering verses, this song earns its reputation as one of the greatest youth anthems ever. It’s strikingly confrontational in comparison to what other bands were singing at the time, although I can just imagine the reaction to be had in 1965 if Daltrey had subbed in an actual “FUCK OFF” at a live show.

But that mod bitterness isn’t present on all the songs. Stuff like “La-La-La-Lies” is as light and poppy as what The Beatles were doing around that time, even if it does sound a lot more streetwise. It’s a strange contrast, but that’s a large part of the charm of this album for me. The gradient shifts more toward grittiness with “The Good’s Gone”, one of my personal favorites. The repetitive, morose “the good’s goooooone” droning of the chorus, almost a chant, and the sneering verses all sound fantastic alongside those dark, grinding riffs.

“The Kids Are Alright” takes things in a different direction with its warm harmonies and more measured delivery, but rest assured the energy and the Mod cynicism are still there. It’s a smooth, infectious song right from the opening chord, and to this day its young Mod spirit remains almost as immortal as that of “My Generation”. “The Ox” is another gem: Keith may seem to dominate the song with his manic thrashing and crashing, but the interplay between guest star Nicky Hopkins (always a treat) and the growling bass of the Ox himself is an exquisite sort of controlled chaos. Then there are some funny throwaways like “It’s Not True” and “A Legal Matter”, which are entertaining enough despite having less depth than the other tracks.

It’s striking to note, after years of listening to classics like “Behind Blue Eyes”, just how obvious the R ‘n B influence is all over this album. Sure, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones took a lot of cues from the genre themselves, but these guys took in rhythm and blues as the main template for their sound, and nowhere is that more obvious than on the debut. The band would morph away from the raw sound of this album soon enough, but the spirit would only continue to grow, and the roots would remain for a good long time.

2017 Discography Challenge: PHIL COLLINS- Face Value (1981)

Review by: Alex Alex

If Phil Collins is ever to stand a metaphysical trial wherein the “audience” accuses him of whatever is now understood as “abuse” of the rotten taste of the modern “generation” then such a trial will be like those in the old Communist movies, Phil Collins (again, metaphysically, most alas) sentencing the prosecutors themselves with his whatever action in these, rotten again, times stands for “speech” but nonetheless represents the story of life.
It begins with how he passes a job interview to join some (rotten) artsy-bourgeois, already perverted and proto-virtual, band or what the hell was it – an anime? – already starting to change the “outer” world to the anime – by means of wearing unnecessary articles and adding needless “elements” to what once used to be Work– the thing Phil Collins was interested in, the real work, to obtain which he had to swim in a pool while learning the new drum patterns, a proletariat having to wear a uniform of the cyberpunk and the Matrix.

When a man refuses to watch black-and-white movies on the ground that there are the color ones he simply demands less humanity and more computerized processes. Humanity is intolerable for the kawaii – same as a muscular proletarian figure, such as Mr Collins is, never needs the Miyazaki sunflowers but demands songs instead, the personal ones, the masculine not as now the condoms are called “Masculine” (the penis being virtual) but as once the manliness was present galores in the Atlantis which (Atlantis) has collapsed into the flat screens of the purchased then rented then pirated then zipped then deleted then not found videos.

“You are no sons of mine!” this is what Phil Collins may say to the judges but this already will seem cartoonish – we must see beyond that, we must understand the times where Mr Collins actually has SAVED Genesis, Genesis being done, drowning in the virtual ocean, Mr Gabriel’s brain too weak to fight the recording studios AI – here enters Mr Collins and proudly, I mean, indeed, PROUDLY, presents the Album, Face Value by name, by hearing which you are cured and you are the man again.

For, even the yuppies, having obtained whatever the computer has, in fact, only leased to them while they whey working for Him, drums gated to the delirium and other spare parts of the tentacles now frowned upon as “dated” by the people who frantically try to conceal from themselves that they are, in fact, complain of the total inhumanity of everything – and so the act of Mr Collins sending the divorce request by the “fax machine” meets everyone’s disapproval not because of any “morality” but because such machines are not existing anymore (replace the fax by the e-mail as a mental experiment). Ah, but the same as it was before the birth of Satan, everybody is interested in the entropy which is a Story.

You, people, listen to this album – it’s an old noir movie – how fantastically it starts with the murdering scene, how the hero then recollects his life story: when Love started all that for him – but was it, really, a human feeling, a love or was it something else (gated drums sound)?

We are then slowly progressing to realize the doom, the fate, the descent as we learn that everything has, in fact, been “written in the book”, the reverberating gates of Necronomicon, the house of humanity destroyed, its roof is leaking, there are no human children anymore, no Ma and no Pa, only robots around, gating the drums as crazy.

And then one realizes that he is drowned – he, himself, now – same as he has helped to drown that other one in the first song – a lover or who, THE OTHER HUMAN as he was – and there’s no lyrics to the drowning – which is quite understandable for those who ever was drowning – and then the hero is drowning hand in hand with his love – because we are all alone or in two, drowning in the abyss of the infernal.

“I Missed Again!” exclaims the hero – but you did not miss when you were killing that man, did you? So drown, drown!

And then many, many and many more hymns to the despair and ruthlessness which, is, perhaps, why the hero decides to commit suicide in the end. Alas, in the virtual reality no such thing as suicide is possible and so he only repeats again and again, desperately and feebly, “I’m not moving. Not really”.

Honestly, listen to this album if for the gated drums only.

2017 Discography Review Challenge: FRANK ZAPPA- Introduction

Written by: Thing-Fish

Hey, you’re probably wondering why I’m here. Well, due to a mixture of boredom and a desire to prove myself as a writer, I’ve decided (in a frankly perverse decision) to review the entire catalogue of Frank Vincent Alonso Zappa. But who is Frank Zappa?

Frank Zappa is a composer, conductor, guitar player, satirist and cultural icon, who in his lifetime produced over fifty albums in various styles, ranging from doo wop to modern classical. Frank Zappa is commonly thought of as something of an acquired taste, which means that a lot of what he produced over the years sounds like absolute shit and/or baffling noodling on first listen. And indeed for some of his catalogue I’m sure this feeling will continue over subsequent listens as well. I own about half a dozen of his albums but I still don’t think I’ve got a full grasp of his style. This will by nessescity mean that this review series will be more of a ‘first impressions’ kind of deal than a in depth musicological analysis. By the end of this journey I may indeed hate the majority of the catalogue or I may love it. But hey, its the journey not the end result that is important. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself . 

I’ll try and keep these reviews reasonably concise and give you an idea of what each of these album’s actually sounds like behind the lurid and often grotesque covers. I’ll try to vary the style of the reviews on occasion so you don’t all get incredibly bored. So lets go back to where it all started….