Happy Holidays From The Second Disc

It’s that time of the year again.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring…not even The Second Disc.  This Christmas Eve, we hope you’ll be heading home for the holidays, spending time with family and friends, enjoying a bounty of food and love, and reflecting on the good times you shared in 2014.

This was a very special year for us, especially when it came to the holiday season.  I had the great pleasure of revisiting favorite Christmas recordings of the past for Real Gone Music, as I compiled and annotated Robert Goulet’s Complete Columbia Christmas Recordings and wrote the liner notes for the label’s reissue of (Andy Williams and) The Williams Brothers Christmas Album.  Mike made magic under the Christmas tree as co-producer of one of this year’s most coveted gifts, Legacy Recordings’ ultra-cool Ghostbusters: Stay Puft Edition super deluxe vinyl set. We couldn’t have brought these projects to life without you, our readers.  We’re grateful to all of you for your support, day in and day out.

We’ll be back on a regular posting schedule in the first full week of the New Year with even more news, reviews and special features just for you!  And with The Second Disc’s fifth birthday coming up in January, we’re on the cusp of sharing with you our biggest and most exciting news yet.  Trust us – we have some major plans ahead to make 2015 our best year yet.

In the meantime, Mike and I would like to wish you and yours a merry and music-filled holiday and a very Happy New Year!  Cheers!

Holiday Gift Guide Review: Captain Beefheart, “SUN ZOOM SPARK 1970 to 1972”

“Art is rearranging and grouping mistakes.” So the late Don Van Vliet, a.k.a. Captain Beefheart, is quoted on the cover of the fourth disc of Rhino’s new box set SUN ZOOM SPARK: 1970 to 1972. It’s appropriate and ironic that the aphorism is featured on the sleeve of that disc, a collection of never-before-heard outtakes from the Captain and his Magic Band. But the tracks are far from mistakes; instead, they offer a window onto the process with which Van Vliet created his unmistakable brand of art. In addition to that disc, SUN ZOOM SPARK presents long-overdue, beautifully-remastered versions of Beefheart’s three albums released during the titular time period: Lick My Decals Off, Baby; The Spotlight Kid; and Clear Spot. The resulting compendium is a must-have for diehard Magic fans, and a surprisingly solid introduction for the more casual fan looking for a solid place to explore Van Vliet’s discography beyond the twin cornerstones of Safe as Milk and Trout Mask Replica.

1969’s Trout Mask, produced by Van Vliet’s lifelong frenemy and collaborator Frank Zappa, solidified his credentials as a true avant-garde pioneer with its highly experimental, frequently surreal blend of blues, free jazz, folk, rock and roll, and every other style that he could throw into a blender in pursuit of something new and something real. With Beefheart himself producing, Lick My Decals Off, Baby, recorded for Zappa’s Warner Bros.-distributed Straight label in summer 1970, continued in the avant-garde style of Trout Mask. It recalls elements of Ornette Coleman (reportedly a Beefheart inspiration), Tom Waits and of course, Zappa, but is too original to withstand many comparisons at all. Like Trout Mask, Decals was an unabashedly countercultural statement, but not in the traditional sense circa 1970. In fact, there’s nothing “traditional” at all about the record, which accounts for its out-of-time quality and ability to still confound and fascinate in equal measure. Van Vliet was unencumbered at this point by conventional notions of songcraft and determined to do it “his way,” and also managed to achieve a homemade sound despite recording the album for a major label in a major studio (Los Angeles’ United).

Regarded as one of the good Captain’s personal favorites of his recordings, the title of Decals reportedly referred to his desire to see objects for their merits rather than according to labels (or “decals”) placed upon them. For this LP featuring both instrumental and vocal tracks (most of which are quite short, with only two tracks exceeding three minutes), Beefheart – whose personal musical arsenal included clarinet, tenor saxophone, soprano saxophone and chromatic harmonica – was joined by the Magic Band line-up of Bill Harkleroad on guitar, Mark Boston on bass, Art Tripp on percussion (including marimba, which adds vibrant color throughout), and John French on drums – all of whom utilized their considerable musical skills in service of Beefheart’s vision. The liner notes to this set fascinatingly detail Beefheart’s modus operandi. Onetime Magic Band member Bruce Fowler observes that “I knew too much [about music]. I was trapped in my practice. He’d pick up a sax and start wailing, and he could not play a scale or anything, so he’d just paint with the soprano.” The resulting music from Beefheart and his Magic Band often sounded improvised, but was in actuality, carefully planned and rehearsed. Though Beefheart wasn’t the trained musician Zappa was, they both pushed the boundaries of their art.

Decals shares with Trout Mask Replica a sense that the artist has rendered his vision with no compromise; its aural assault – of jagged rhythms, stuttering guitars, surreal, word-association lyrics (sometimes with an ecological bent, however hidden), growled, near-spoken vocals and clattering soundscapes – still jars today.  Some moments are more accessible here than others, if “accessible” is the right word, such as the happily goofy “I Love You, You Big Dummy” or the bizarrely catchy “Woe-is-uh-Me-Bop” and “The Smithsonian Institute Blues (or the Big Dig).” Those familiar with free jazz will likely be riveted by “Japan in a Dishpan,” or by the solo guitar piece “One Red Rose That I Mean” dazzlingly played by Harkleroad. “The Buggy Boogie Woogie” has one of Beefheart’s most vivid vocals, more like a beat-era monologue than a song with lyrics. There’s a peculiar, childlike quality to “The Clouds Are Full of Wine (Not Whiskey or Rye).” Lick My Decals Off, with its lack of conventional melodies, was – and is – doubtless a challenging record, but it set the stage for The Spotlight Kid.

Recorded at Los Angeles’ Record Plant during the summer of 1971 and issued in early 1972 on Reprise with a self-mocking cover of Van Vliet in a Nudie suit, The Spotlight Kid is the only album credited solely to Captain Beefheart rather than as a collaboration with his Magic Band. It features Harkleroad, Boston, French and Tripp, plus Elliot Ingber on guitar and drummer Rhys Clark (on one track). Produced again by Van Vliet, this time in collaboration with engineer Phil Schier, the album features slower, simpler and more fluid compositions, as Beefheart was in pursuit of a (slightly) more commercial sound. (He was “aware of the need to, um, eat,” quips Rip Rense in the SUN ZOOM SPARK liner notes.) He largely achieved it, as The Spotlight Kid isn’t as in-your-face or confrontational as Lick My Decals.

Hit the jump for much more!