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Jon Quijano

The website of St. Croix Valley photographer and storyteller Jon Quijano

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106. "Give It Away" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers

I don't think it can be properly communicated how heady times were musically in the summer of 1991...

Before that summer, a lot of legendary artists we now take for granted simply were not in the national/international conversation. Nirvana released Nevermind. Pearl Jam released Ten. Metallica released the black album and suddenly appeared in the mainstream. Cool As Ice changed our lives.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers were among that bumper crop of great artists to pop up that summer. This strange, wholly unprecedented album Blood Sugar Sex Magik arrived. Songs like "Give It Away" entered the collective memory banks, never to be ejected.

This heavy yet so catchy rock-funk song was suddenly playing on mainstream radio right along with Genesis, U2, Michael Jackson, and Bryan Adams. I felt my spirit rise whenever it started playing in the car on some Saturday errand. 

We all welcomed the super-powered bassist Flea into our conversations. We were enamored with the strange "is he singing is he rapping does he know what he's doing" voice of Anthony Kiedis.

I have no idea how younger people see this song. It still glitters with its novelty to me, 26 years later. When I was born, Elvis's "Hound Dog" was less than 26 years in the past, and that song sounds ancient to me. Possibly more telling, that Chili Peppers album is also closely entwined in my memory with a revolutionary video game released the same summer, Super Nintendo's Final Fantasy 2. I'm not sure: Is the song timeless, or is it 16-bit technology? 

It probably seems dated to the young. Kids today probably wouldn't even want to keep this song like the kaiser.

Wednesday 05.31.17
Posted by Jon Quijano
 

105. "Get Back" by the Beatles

When I was a kid, I had no idea this was a Beatles song. The singer sounded nothing like a Beatle. Little did I know that Paul McCartney was going through a bit of an identity crisis and thought he should be sounding like Levon Helm as roots rock began sweeping away the old grandiose psychedelic affectations, which the Beatles had come to embody. 

It seems plain that McCartney's phrase "get back" is partially referring to an attempt to get back to the basics of their rock songwriting and musicianship. You can look at this two possible ways. 

One, maybe McCartney heard this new roots rock music and started missing the old days of the Beatles as a simple rock n roll group playing live shows, which it hadn't done in years due to their obsession with recoding ingenious, complex studio albums. Their recording sessions had become incredibly time consuming, which left little time for touring. And even if they wanted to tour, most of their songs were unperformable live with the technology available. Maybe he saw his group possibly splitting up and wanted to try getting back to what they started out as before it was all lost. 

Or two, groups like the Band, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and the Grateful Dead had caused a paradigm shift in musical taste, ushering simplicity and the soul of Americana back to the forefront. And maybe Paul knew it was the Beatles' asses if they didn't drop the psychedelic masterpiece stuff and keep up.

What you tend to believe probably has something to do with how you view Paul McCartney. Paul is the easiest target of the Beatles: He is the source of some of the most mind-bogglingly perverse conspiracy theories. And he can be viewed by cynics as both A. the most strategic, career-minded Beatle and B. the one who was less emotionally accessible. He wrote songs about "Sweet Loretta Martin," a complete cutesy fabrication, while John Lennon wrote about his dead mother. 

I mean, "Let It Be" was about Paul's dead mother and "Hey Jude" was about Lennon's neglected son during Lennon's divorce, which even Lennon wouldn't face - but popular narratives are popular for a reason! Because they sound plausible and support our deep-seated resentment of people who are very organized, responsible, and get things done.

Also, this cutesy song about Sweet Loretta Martin is not just an order to "get back" to basics for aesthetic reasons. It was also a satire against the racist, nativist, conservative trend taking hold in his country at the time, as some white people in that county began raging about dark-skinned people coming to Britain to live and work from the lands such as Pakistan which the British had subjugated under brutal colonialism. The nerve of these immigrants, right? When a superpower's policies ruin a person's home country, so that person decides the superpower owes them a life and job on their own enlightened soil: How much more entitled can you get? (Sarcasm) There is a great deal of serious depth behind Paul's playful seeming lyrics. 

And by this time, John Lennon was perpetually addled by heroin addiction, George Harrison had checked out, and Ringo never meddled, so Paul was doing most of the heavy lifting in terms of keeping basic band operations going. Yeah, what an opportunist tool of the establishment.

Too bad that not only did Paul want to write more roots-based music to keep up with musical tastes and possibly save his band - he could do it. Incredibly well. And "Get Back" is one stomping badass little gem with excellent melodies (including an iconic chorus), sweet guitar solos, and guest Billy Preston on electric piano making this song. No way John Lennon was going to plop his slurring ass down in front of a keyboard and be able to do half the things Billy Preston did.

Yes, Paul apparently could be a testy, autocratic jerk. The sessions for this very song attest to that. But sometimes I have to put myself in his position as seemingly the only one by then trying to keep that Beatles marriage going and forgive him for the constipated look on his face that was becoming fairly omnipresent. 

He wrote great tunes. He wanted the Beatles to live, so he responded with the can-do work ethic that enabled him to survive the pains of his life. He failed. For better or for worse, you can't really get back.

Wednesday 05.31.17
Posted by Jon Quijano
 

104. "Friends" by Led Zeppelin

For as touted as Led Zeppelin were for their album productions, they almost never employed true orchestras in their recordings. "Kashmir," "Rain Song," "Four Sticks," and "All My Love," all use pseudo string parts performed by John Paul Jones on mellotron or some other device. I can understand that they maybe wanted to preserve some of the sound of their live show, but man the real stings of "Friends" sound so rich. I almost wish they had used them more. (Listen to that live Page and Plant version of "Kashmir" with real strings sometime.)

Jimmy Page and Robert Plant tried multiple times to record orchestral songs that evoked the Indian musical ideas they were fairly obsessed with. "Friends" was the first go. "Four Sticks" was another attempt. The grand culmination was "Kashmir." It's fun to think of "Friends" as a proto-"Kashmir," both songs relying on a droning orchestral ostinotto broken up with instrumental refrains of excellent scales.

On its own terms, "Friends" is a great short experiment of a song, the kind of fragment that fits as a brilliant interlude on an album back in times when people listened to albums front to back as the work, not individual tracks.

The the string line of the verses reaches strange, wonderful places. The Robert Plant vocal is powerful, bluesy, and ends with a great phrase.

The instrumental refrains are these jarring strums of a open tuned guitar, finished with this Indian-inspired scale jumping all over the beat. The sounds are transfixing.

The ending is a mind trip of an ascending guitar over synth drone, strings winding, and a fantastic vocal melody by Plant, all accelerating until collapse. I love songs that end in new territory. I love songs that earn it with as much odd beauty as this.

Wednesday 05.31.17
Posted by Jon Quijano
 

103. "Freeze Time" by 311

Soundsystem in general is an album that should be remembered. This is my favorite track from it, the big, jogging opener. 

Such a great opening guitar progression, all rigidly straight on the beat, wonderful guitar harmonies on the turnaround into the verse. Think: When were guitar harmonies last used in any novel kind of way in rock? You have to search around for guitar solos these days; guitar harmonies are even more endangered.

The drumming by Chad Sexton is stunning. He is an underrated member of my "agile drummers" hall of fame. Like Stewart Copeland, here he is playing for a reggae fusion group that lets him attack much more aggressively than standard reggae would, but the sharpness of the reggae percussion discipline leads to this beautiful, precise style. He may not have the same gift for cymbal work as Copeland, but his snare work is superior.

The alternating vocals are both cool, both what 311 is expected to produce - their brand. It's a narrow set of expectations for them, but they fulfill the conceit with creative aplomb.

It should still be okay to rap over rock music. It's not a gimmic; it's a natural marriage when done for the right reasons. 311 should not have been lumped in with the reductive term "rap rock." But opportunists flooding the market ensured that they were. And now rock has Adam Levine as its greatest mainstream practitioner. Beautiful voice on that man.

Wednesday 05.31.17
Posted by Jon Quijano
 

102. "Freedom! ‘90" by George Michael

George Michael's epic, his greatest masterpiece of pop. Soulful, dark, perfect melodies. Every part jumps.

I'd like to say the verses are my favorite, with the ever reinventing singing line. I mean, who ends their phrases like George Michael? What he did was so special. I'd like to say that's my favorite part. But when the song breaks down and that bass line gets busy, with that funky drum beat (the little hi-hat accents such a deft touch), there is nothing else.

Of all rock instruments, I understand the bass the least. But I fully appreciate when it is carrying the song. I like to say that drum creativity is song creativity. That may be true, but bass creativity, or even just bass vitality, makes a song. Sometimes it decides the very genre of a song. Take the funky bass line out of this song's breakdown, replace it with maybe just a rock-based descending pattern mirroring the piano progression that eventually enters, and it is no longer this song.

Where did pop songs like this go? Is this literally the last ultra-classic pop song from the '80s era before New Kids and Hammer and Ice dropped in like clumsy Foot Soldiers on the ninja party?

Anyway, the statement of this song, knowing George's circumstances at the time, is simply beyond my inclination to summarize. But I love the multifaceted connotations of these lyrics. Their spirit should impact us all equally.

Above all - Freedom: You truly must give what you take. This song may appear a century from now in a course on democratic civics. We await whether that will be a current events or a history course.

Wednesday 05.31.17
Posted by Jon Quijano
 
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