Alex's Record Collection: 'Piano Music of Erik Sature, Vol. 1' by Aldo Ciccolini (1968)

Since moving to Asbury Park a little over a year ago, I have amassed quite a large record collection, and so I've decided to go through my stacks of wax and discuss some of the items in my collection - the good, the bad and the weird included. This is Alex's Record Collection.

So, do you remember how in my last "Alex's Record Collection" post I went on a long, scholarly, biographical and opinionated tangent about the career of the Doors and only really talked about "Other Voices" as an album for about a paragraph and a half? I'm not doing that this time.

As many folks who know me can testify, I am an avid collector of knowledge. It's usually not enough for me to like a song, I need to know everything I possibly can about the music and the people behind it. And yes, this ultimately does, for better or worse, inform my perception of the work. Don't know if that's a good thing or not, but that's the way it is.

Except, it's different with Erik Satie. I don't know why. I know pretty much noting at all about this composer. Until about five minutes ago, I didn't know what time period he lived in. I don't know what nationality he was. I'm not sure where his work falls in the grand scheme of European(?) art music. And you know what? I don't need to. His work tells me absolutely everything I need to know.

Aldo Ciccolini's 1968 stereo recording known as "Piano Music of Erik Satie, Vol. 1" is perfect. The collection is hypnotic, tender, mellow, intriguing and gives me something new to discover and love on every wordless listen. I adore the scratchy, quiet copy I found for $1 at HoldFast a few months ago (I bought it in the same transaction as Harry Nilsson's "Son of Dracula" soundtrack, by the way. The less said about that "album," the better, I'm afraid.)

Although my own copy of "Vol. 1" came into my hands a few months ago, this is an album I have loved for years. On mellow evenings, my best friend and former roommate Dave would put his copy on the turntable, and I was sold. The record gives me much more of a peaceful, easy feeling than any goddamn Eagles song of the same name.

I really don't have all that much to say about this record except that if you come across a copy, buy it. Then take it home, light a candle, pour a glass of wine and fall in love with a mystery.

Alex's Record Collection: 'Other Voices' by the Doors (1971)

Since moving to Asbury Park a little over a year ago, I have amassed quite a large record collection, and so I've decided to go through my stacks of wax and discuss some of the items in my collection - the good, the bad and the weird included. This is Alex's Record Collection.

When I interviewed Ray Manzarek of the Doors for my day job a little while back, I was faced with a bit of a predicament: I hadn't really listened to the Doors in years. When I was in middle school and into my early high school years, they were my band, they got it, man.

But as I grew older, my tastes expanded, I put away my Morrison-wannabe leather pants and headed into other areas. Going back through the Doors to get ready for my interview with Ray, I realized something: as a 20-something musician/writer, I was straining to listen past Jim Morrison, trying to sonically see through him. Yeah, he's an American poet. Yeah, he's an icon. And yeah, he's a fine singer.

But lately I found myself getting more into what Manzarek, Robbie Krieger and John Densmore were doing behind him, underneath him. Truth be told, I was bored with Morrison's shtick, and I was more into the acidy blues rock that his fellow Doors were churning out. So, what do you do when you want to listen to the Doors but you're not interested in the Lizard King (other than listening to Love's "Forever Changes")? Enter "Other Voices."

When Morrison shuffled off this mortal coil in July of 1971, the Doors were just beginning to hit their musical second wind. From January of 1967 to April of 1971, the band put out six studio LPs - one of them was great (the first one) and the rest were varying degrees of OK but all featured a handful of great tracks. But the last album with the original lineup, "LA Woman," found the band embracing jazz, jam and lounge elements in a fresh, exciting way that got the buying public interested - it was their most commercially successful album since their first one, and their most interesting sounding one since then, too.

The Jim went to Paris and died.

That's where "Other Voices" comes in. The band had started recording the music before Morrison headed to Paris, and when he died in July, they kept going. They released the album in October. And you know what? It's really damn good. And not just "good enough for a Doors album without Jim" good. No, it's really good.

Sure, there are a couple of duds, specifically the first two tracks on Side Two ("Down on the Farm" is just stupid and "I'm Horny, I'm Stoned" is a little too on the nose.) But the playing on this record from the three instrumentally-inclined Doors is amazing. This is the most free they ever sounded on wax. It's as if after years of being a solid trippy blues rock band who had to be the foundation for Morrison's antics, they're finally allowed to play to the best of their abilities.

You know what this is? It's a jam band album. Seriously, you can keep this record on the shelf right next to "Blues for Allah" and "Terrapin Station" and it will hold its own. Don't believe me? Check this out:

Holy shit, how awesome is that? This album is so, so damn good, and I'm so happy to have it in my record collection. It's the sound of three free men playing exactly what they want, how they want and having fun doing it. Morrison was gone, but the genius wasn't. As far as vinyl goes, I only have two Doors albums, this one and the first one, and I'm fine with that. In fact, I listen to this one more, so sue me.

I kinda wish Ray, John and Robbie had kept this lineup of the band going, either as the Doors or as something else, because they were on the cusp of a whole new greatness here.

Oh well, at least I've got my record collection.

An extraordinary night at the Lanes

Last night, I caught a show at the Asbury Lanes that was so damn good, so incredibly original, that I find myself compelled to write about it.

The show last night (Thursday) was part of the residency of local band Atlantic/Atlantic. And while I'm sure A/A is a fine band, I actually wasn't there for them - I was there to see the two opening acts.

First up was a band that ranks among the finest things ever produced by Philadelphia (and that includes the Declaration of Independence): The Extraordinaires. I first discovered the Extraordinaires a year ago when they played the after-party for the Tromadance Film Festival. I was knocked out by them at the time, and they've gotten even better in the year since.

I can't really cite specific songs or band member names for the band, but I can proudly speak in generalities: this is nerd rock at its finest. Showing influences that seem to range from Cake to the Muppets, the Extraordinaires are funny, rocking, inventive and seem like genuinely nice dudes.

Last night was the final night of the Extraordinaires' month-long tour, and by the time they got to Asbury they had sold out of full-length CDs and t-shirts. Good for them. While I would have loved to purchase more merch, the fact that they moved so much product seems to indicate that they're finding an audience out there. In a perfect world, the sky would be the limit for these guys.

(And for the record, I did pick up one piece of Extraordinaires merch: their new "Postcard" EP, which is a postcard that comes printed with a download code that gives you access to three songs for $5. You can then stick the postcard in the mail and send it to a nerd rock-loving friend, who can then download the songs and pass the card on some more. It's like a chain letter, except instead of giving up money for baseball cards that never arrive in the mail, you get some awesome indie rock.)

After the Extraordinaires was Yula and the Extended Family, a musical collective fronted by a star in the making whose path has crossed mine in a few minor ways over the years.

Some background: about five years ago, I found myself in New York City on Halloween night, dressed as Nacho Libre. I went to a club in the village with some friends to see a couple of bands that I had found out about through a Dresden Dolls show a week earlier: Luminescent Orchestrii (whose frontman, Sxip Shirey, had MC'd the show) and Australian art rockers the Red Paintings.

On Halloween night 2006 (?), the Orchestrii and the Red Paintings (whatever happened to that band? They kicked a bit of ass, in a mildly pretentious way) were joined at the bar, the name of which escapes me at the time, by a brilliant Israeli gypsy punk trio, Nanuchka, which was led by a bass-wielding siren named Yula Beeri. This band was brilliant, they were a revelation - part Regina Spektor, part Joan Jett, part Gogol Bordello, they were all kinds of perfect.

Unfortunately, I forgot to pick up any Nanucka merch that night, moved on, and never had another chance to see the band. It seems that in the 5 (?) years since, Yula has moved on, too. I happened to see her at the Lanes about two years ago (?) at a Tromapalooza fundraiser for Tromadance. (Troma's got great musical taste, doesn't it?) She seemed in fine form, but the music didn't wow me the way Nanuchka had all those years ago. I don't know, I guess it just didn't rock enough.

Fast forward, and then rewind a bit, to last night: I knew Yula was on the bill, and I was interested, but I didn't know what to expect. Well, she and her band, the Extended Family, kicked all kinds of ass.

Playing what can really only be described as gypsy ska (and even that doesn't totally do it justice), Yula was Yula, totally bringing it on guitar, keys and bewitching vocals, and she was backed by a brilliant musical hive-mind that included a lovely lady in a red dress playing a saw and a full horn section. It was, simply put, pretty fucking brilliant. And I'm listening to the band's "Victor" EP now, and the music sounds just as great the day after at home as it did last night in the bar.

And if I have an over-arching point to this story (other than the fact that you should totally check out both of these great bands and show them all your love and support) is that, when I hear people bitch about the lack of quality art out there today, I wish those people could have been here. This was at 9 p.m. on a Thursday, there were less than 50 people in the crowd, and the music was genius, pure art; it deserves to be heard, and thanks to places like the Asbury Lanes, you can hear it nearly every night of the week, and even if you've been to as many shows as I have, you can still be surprised by what's out there.

Photo by Doug Glass, http://yulabeeri.com