Let’s give a birthday salute to the man who’s in everything you eat, because everything you eat gots Flavor. The Clown Prince of Rap provided a welcome contrast to the declamatory serious rapping of Chuck D., adding texture and humor to Public Enemy’s groundbreaking music. I still remember seeing Public Enemy, supporting their debut album, take the stage as one of the first acts at Def Jam ’87 at the UIC Pavilion. While Chuck D. slowly prowled the stage and the SIW’s dazzled with their choreography, my eyes kept being drawn back to Flavor Flav, who was non-stop motion with the big clock around his neck. Forget the reality shows, forget Flav ranting against lip syncing at Pitchfork and two songs later lip syncing “911 Is A Joke’, and remember that he has always been entertaining. Let’s pay tribute to Flavor Flav by grabbing your iPod or MP3 player, hitting shuffle, and sharing the first 10 songs that come up.
Looking Glass — Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl)(Have A Nice Decade): This is one of the ultimate ’70s AM Gold songs. It was a fine era for story songs, and the mix of mellow verses detailing the story and the gigantic chorus make for pop bliss that never gets old.
Sweet — AC/DC (Sweet Fanny Adams): I know this song from the U.S. version of Desolation Boulevard. As Mike Chapman and NIcky Chinn moved Sweet away from bubblegum into the hard rock and glam that more fit their talents, they showed that they could do salacious material, in a very tongue in cheek fashion. Yep, this a boogie rocker about a bisexual woman that is silly as hell (though Brian Connolly, as always, sings with utmost sincerity), and nobody gets hurt. Joan Jett did a nice cover of this tune a few years ago.
Sparks — High C (Sparks): This came out originally when Sparks was called Halfnelson (and the album had the same name). They reissued the album under the new name at the suggestion of Bearsville Records head (and former Bob Dylan manager) Albert Grossman’s suggestion that since the band was kind of oddball and had two sets of brothers, they should call themselves The Sparks Brothers. Anyway, this is typical of the whimsical vaguely psychedelic pop of the band’s early years, with Ron Mael’s skewed lyrical sensibility already in full bloom. Here, this is a story about an opera singer trying to make a comeback.
Husker Du — Visionary (Warehouse: Stories And Songs): A ripping Bob Mould song from the final Husker Du LP. Mould’s songs got more polished over the years, logically, and listening to this, it’s interesting how much effect Grant Hart had on the sound. He was no Keith Moon but his drumming was so snare happy, that he didn’t take up loads of sonic space, allowing Mould’s guitar to dominate. Nevertheless, the beat moved on well. It would have been interesting to hear Sugar do this in a more traditional manner.
XTC — Runaway (English Settlement): The lead cut from XTC’s wonderful double album set. This Colin Moulding song immediately made it clear that things were going in a new direction. The opening cuts on the previous four XTC albums were classic high energy starters. This languid tune really revealed some of the ’60s inspirations that ultimately came to the forefront on subsequent releases. Moreover, this haunting number has a fascinating arrangement, from Moulding’s lurching yet pretty basslines to the prickly jangling guitar of Andy Partridge and the spooky keyboards in the background. This wasn’t a single, but it’s a great tune and the right choice to kick off this great album.
The Shazam — Dreamcrusher Machine (Meteor): A crunching number from the best power pop band of the last 20 years. This song has a big meaty riff and reminds me of Cheap Trick circa All Shook Up and One On One. There’s enough guitar power for hard rock fans, but the song still has some melody and a decent hook. Hans Rotenberry and crew really know how to mix up their albums between rockers, big hook pop tunes and a few oddball tracks to give the album character. I hope they have another album in them.
Cafe Tacuba — Perfidia (Avalancha de Exitos): This Mexican band was at the forefront of the Rock En Espanol movement, giddily mixing genres while performing material that could be very serious, even while the band stuffed their songs with fun twists and turns. This is a pretty instrumental with nice atmospheric textures. I’m just now exploring Cafe Tacuba’s catalog and my biggest beef with them is that they haven’t been very prolific. Great band.
Elton John — All The Girls Love Alice (Goodbye Yellow Brick Road): One of the all-time great Elton John album tracks. Perhaps the lyrics about a teenage lesbian who kills herself are a little cliche, but they were edgy for their time. All I know is there is a killer fuzz guitar riff, percolating verses and a chorus that shifts gears into an achingly beautiful melody in the chorus. The contrast makes the song unforgettable. Of course, Elton’s singing and his band’s crack playing help tremendously.
Motorhead — Smiling Like A Killer (Inferno): I’m no Motorhead completist, but when Jack Rabid makes a Motorhead album his number one pick for an issue of his fabulous Big Takeover magazine, I have to get it. While I’m not sure if I’d rate the album quite as highly as Jack, this is certainly a fine effort from Lemmy and company. Much like the Ramones, Motorhead would try different things from time to time, but, in the end, it’s all about primal, basic rock tunes and this song wouldn’t have sounded too far out of place on the Ace Of Spades album, which is a compliment.
Little Steven and the Disciples of Soul — Forever (Men Without Women): Just when it seemed like Kevin Rowland (of Dexy’s Midnight Runners) seemed to hit the ceiling of how limited a vocalist you could be to credibly sing R & B, Steven Van Zandt trumped him. While I wouldn’t say Men Without Women is quite up there with the first two Dexy’s album, it’s not that far away either. Little Steven’s voice was always probably better suited for Bob Dylan type material, but when you can write a pumping soul tune of utter devotion as good as this one, you’re entitled to the opportunity to pull it off. And Steven does so in spades. A great song from an underrated album.