University Music Reviews 2020-23

Note: The following reviews were written as exercises during my time studying Music Journalism at University, getting my degree. I do have a feeling that I might have missed some, as my archive of exercises I did for the course is pretty cluttered, but these are the ones that I have been able to find, dug up and provided for posterity.

Crazy Backwards Alphabet - Self Titled

It’s pretty clear that everything that Matt Groening was involved in other than his TV Shows like The Simpsons has been horribly overshadowed, to the point where a lot of people don’t even know he’s done anything else. Which is a shame because his comic strip Life In Hell, which was a cult icon in 1980s California, is pretty damn underrated. And being fairly well known in the area meant he was able to get some fairly well known friends, such as future Simpsons coworkers Harry Shearer and James L. Brooks, as well as the influential innovative musician and composer Frank Zappa, who Groening was a massive fan of, and was in fact the next door neighbor of in the final years of Zappa’s life. And it seems as though this influence, combined with a friendship with experimental guitarist Henry Kaiser, is what led to the production of the 1987 album Crazy Backwards Alphabet.

It should be noted that although he’s credited with conceptualizing the album and contributing the artwork (featuring the same sort of style he’d been previously showcasing with Life In Hell), Groening does not actually play on the record. Instead the band responsible of it is a supergroup of several artists, including Dixie Dreggs bassist Andy West, Swedish avant-garde drummer Michael Maksymenko, and former Magic Band drummer John French. And it’s perhaps French’s Captain Beefheart roots that is the biggest musical and technical influence on this record. Groening himself had been heavily influenced by Beefheart’s 1969 record Trout Mask Replica; according to him he initially hated how chaotic and experimental it was, initially believing it to be the result of poor performances, at least until “About the third time, I realised they were doing it on purpose; they meant it to sound exactly this way.”

And Beefheart’s rather infamous sound and way with music is all over this record. The performances and compositions on display on Crazy Backwards Alphabet are often off kilter and more than once downright discordant, with the drum, rhythm and guitar tracks often clashing and having little relevance to each other, but not quite enough to be unlistenable or grating. Which era of Captain Beefheart’s career depends on the track, since the format often fluctuates. At points it sounds similar in execution to Trout Mask Replica, whilst other tracks like “The Blood & The Ink” are perhaps closer in sound to Van Vliet’s more grounded and traditionally bluesy records such as The Spotlight Kid.

Overall, Crazy Backwards Alphabet is a good place to go for people either researching into the scene that The Simpsons first came out of, or people who have just gone through Captain Beefheart’s work and are looking for something equally experimental and yet enjoyable.

A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory

There is no doubt to be had that A Tribe Called Quest is one of the most influential/quintessential Hip-Hop groups of the late 80s and early 90s. Right up there with groups like Public Enemy, De La Soul, and solo rappers like LL Cool J, they bought about major innovations in what Hip Hop could sound like, often blurring the lines with sampling and the use of proper original instrumentation. Although the argument of which is their finest record is up for hot debate (Midnight Marauders is often mentioned) their 1991 sophomore release The Low End Theory is what I consider to be their finest hour.

The album was a direct departure from the sound laid out on their debut album, People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm. Where the debut had perhaps more complex instrumental structures and segments, The Low End Theory was much more minimalist and straightforward, also stepping up the group’s Jazz influences to include a proper specially recorded double bass played by Jazz musician Ron Carter. The general direction that the band has taken on their debut, itself a move away from the dangerous image that Hip-Hop had begun to cultivate for itself, was continued here, with a lot of the lyrics featuring in-jokes, humour, and just a dash of social commentary.

Not only that, but the interactions between the different members is heightened tenfold on The Low End Theory, making it a largely unified work. Rapper Phife Dawg, who’d only sporadically appeared on People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm due to preferring to hang out with his friends, sought to be much more involved with the group’s recorded projects after it was discovered he was Diabetic. As such, he steps up his game much more, with him and fellow Rapper/producer Q-Tip often exchanging verses in response to each other during numbers, most notably on the single “Check The Rhime”. Speaking of, those numbers are some of the most well produced and feature some of the best flows the group would ever do, with the seamless performances on “Buggin’ Out” and the finale “Scenario”, which featured a cameo from fellow Hip-Hop group Leaders Of The New School, who were a member of the same collective as Tribe, Native Tongues. These tracks show the band at their finest, witty, harmonious, and fully willing to take some risks in order to make some good music.

Satya Sai Maitreya Kali – Apache / Inca

The story of Craig Smith is probably one of the most tragic stories of the 1960s music scene. Having initially been popular on the Andy Williams Show, and exhibiting talent and charisma as part of the late 60s psych rock unit Penny Arkade, a mixture of a lack of success, massive drug abuse, hallucinations, and being beaten, robbed and left in a mental asylum in Afghanistan whilst on the hippie trail, left him with acute messianic delusions, and he began to call himself Maitreya Kali. He believed he was to be the ruler of Earth, and that he was a reincarnation of numerous leaders and religious icons. These delusions only intensified over time, grew violent on multiple occasions, and got him institutionalized for a period of years in the 70s. He spent the remainder of his life homeless after being released for good in the 80s, eventually dying on the streets in 2012. Truly an awful fate for someone who was originally a talented and funny musician.

But, on his sole album Apache/Inca (originally 2 albums that were eventually combined into a single double experience), for a moment one may not be able to realize just how deluded he was. The music on this album, recorded over the course of around 5 years, self-released in 1972, and distributed by hand on the streets of Los Angeles, is not the discordance you might expect for someone in a damaged state of mind, but rather the careful, beautiful acoustic sounds of someone who perhaps knew he was losing his grip on reality, and couldn’t control it.

The best material on the album is from the 68 sessions with the Penny Arkade band. These songs are fully formed and backed with proper accompanying instruments by the other band members, which helps to illustrate just how talented a songwriter Smith was at his prime. The solo folk-ish numbers that dominate the album are also interesting listens, as the melodies are addictive and well crafted, and Smith/Kali’s vocals are genuine and still capable off carrying a tune. Tracks like “San Pan Boat” and “Old Man” are especially beautiful.

On a few numbers, like the considerably more ramshackle “Revelation”, and with some of the between-track dialogue, one can hear his delusions beginning to bleed through, perhaps suggesting that he wasn’t able to keep himself together to make music for much longer, especially when one takes the album artwork into account. But even so, if this were Smith/Kali’s ultimate statement to the world, it’s both sane and insane enough to captivate the average listener.

Marianne Faithfull – Broken English

If there’s one thing that seems to particularly capture the imaginations of the public when it comes to music, it is the comeback record. A singular musical statement that can transform an artist from one the consumers and critics had written off, to finally being able to prove just what they’re capable of and making sure everyone knows it. And as such, the more tragic the fall from grace that precedes it, the more triumphant the eventual comeback statement shall be. Such is the case with Marianne Faithfull’s 1979 album Broken English.

To say the leadup to this record was rough for Marianne would probably be an understatement. Following her already tumultuous relationship with Mick Jagger falling apart, and her fledgling musical career following suit by the turn of the 60s, she was soon in freefall. The following years were marred by a lack of musical output, extended periods of homelessness and living on the streets of Soho, losing custody of her child, and at one point an attempt at suicide. With such a severe fall from grace, those who remembered her time singing songs such as “As Tears Go By” would be forgiven for being concerned that a return to form might not be on the cards for her.

However, that soon changed upon the arrival of Punk Rock in 1977, and Marianne soon came into contact with many talented figures in the scene, which inspired her to take her music in a similar direction. The resulting demos quickly caught the attention of Island Records, who agreed to finance recording sessions with her and her backing band. And from these sessions arose what would become Broken English.

Despite Marianne explaining Punk Rock’s influence on the record, Broken English has much more in common with the quickly developing New Wave style that was gaining traction by that point, on account with the prominent use of early synthesisers on several tracks. By some accounts these synth lines had been overdubbed on without Marianne’s direct input, but it ends up creating a cold and yet powerful atmosphere that compliments the mood in Marianne’s lyrics and the delivery of her singing.

Speaking of Marianne’s singing, her voice is also much changed from her initial fame in the 60s. Many years of laryngitis and drug abuse had left her voice a lower and raspier tone. Perhaps not as suited for folk and pop anymore, but for the energy of this record, it works perfectly, feeling like she has come out of her previous tailspin scarred but still together.

And then there’s the songs themselves. The record features a mixture of cover & original songs, and all of then Marianne pulls off tremendously. The cover tracks in particular showcase a lot of the scope that Marianne was still able to show with her work, with tracks including Shel Silverstein’s The Ballad of Lucy Jordan and John Lennon’s Working Class Hero. The latter in particular suits her especially well since, despite her more middle-class background and upbringing, her situation in the leadup to this record, including issues with depression and homelessness, and being rather unpopular in the public eye due to her romance with Mick Jagger, she had been through the wars, and so could be considered just as valid to discuss the idea of the plight of the working class as anyone else.

But it’s the original tracks on the record, both provided by Marianne herself and a selection of collaborators, that allow her to truly show what she is capable of after her substantial hiatus. The title track, for instance, features lyrics about personal loss and loneliness, as well as references to the then ongoing cold war. The conclusion can be drawn to connections between these lyrics and Marianne’s past experiences, perhaps with an overall feeling of helplessness in regards to the conflict in the world. The Side A closer “Guilt” has similar parallels, with lyrics about infidelity and feelings of unwarranted regret that seem almost autobiographical.

The album closer “Why’d Ya Do It” is the most explicit in its brutal lyrical delivery about infidelity, and it is outright graphic in the details, contrasting hard with the comparably clean lyrics on the rest of the record. It even got the record banned in some parts of the world. If there were a song on the record with an attitude one could equate to being “punk”, this would be the best candidate by far.

Broken English is undoubtably a stark record, allowing Faithfull to prove that she still had the ability to shock people with her music. It’s also something of an outlier in her discography, as her following 80s output was perhaps less scathing in delivery. Certainly, she would retain control over her artistic direction from then on out, but she would never release another album quite like Broken English.