Tag Archives: Go West

That’s Why I’m Here

No, not the James Taylor song. Writing about music fulfills some kind of need in me, I suppose, or I wouldn’t be here. And I know that writing about something helps me to figure out what I think about the subject I’m discussing. It might just be because the fact of wanting to write a post about a particular record forces me to listen in an active, engaged and critical way so I don’t embarrass myself, but I think there’s something about the process itself that takes me further into the topic than I ever get from just sitting and listening, however intently.

So that’s some of why I’m here. But I do have a more altruistic reason, or at least a reason that’s outward-looking. There are so many large-scale websites devoted to the discussion and reviewing of music: Pitchfork, obviously, but also Drowned in Sound, Popmatters, AV Club, Consequence of Sound, Quietus, the online presences of Rolling Stone and Spin, the digital editions of the print newspapers (some of which devote more effort and resources to arts reviews than others, but they’re all there), the websites of magazines like Mojo, Uncut, NME, and on and on. But none of them provide the sort of criticism that I particularly want to read. I go on the AV Club website for film and TV reviews – I never read their record reviews.

The sort of criticism I like to read goes deeper than the writing you find in these places: sometimes it may focus on the culture music exists in, lives in and feeds off; other times it may be take the form of a close response to the musical matter and be aware of how small musical events change the way the listener hears the piece; it might get technical about production (recording techniques, mic placement, equalisation, panning, compression, time-domain effects); it might be a stream of random associations and allusions and images that the music calls to mind. I try and do all of these things, depending on my response to the song at hand. Sometimes I throw out all of that and just pass on cool ways to tune a guitar, mic a drum kit or double-track heavy guitars. I don’t premeditate that much. Not having a website structure to fill (at least for now) allows me to post at my own pace and discuss whatever I want. There’s supposed to be a utility to it though. In my own head, I’m providing a service here, passing on knowledge and weird little insights that you’re not going to get from the bigger music sites and aggregators simply because they have these rigid structures that don’t really allow for randomness. They chase novelty because they need traffic, and they can only concern themselves with older music or films or TV when they’re celebrating some kind of landmark anniversary.

These self-defined structures don’t completely throttle worthwhile criticism. There’s a tremendous skill involved in being able to listen to a new record over the course of a week, absorb it, internalise it, sort through it and its implications and its associations and come up with a short review by the end of the week that will plug a 200-word hole in some website’s music-review section. It’s incredibly hard to do it with such a short turnaround and say anything worth the time it takes to read it. Inevitably, few writers can pull it off. Most are just plugging the holes in the structure, they’re not engaging in the practice of criticism. But there are writers who consistently manage to say something engaging and insightful and knowledgeable about new music, even while their editors are barking at them about deadlines.

So it’s been a conscious choice to avoid the new, the current, the novel. It’s covered as well as it can be in so many other places, and avoiding chasing after the new stuff allows me the time to really hear something before forming an opinion. It allows me not to have to pick a side instantly. There’s no such thing as objectivity when forming a response to music. Here I don’t pretend otherwise, but I try to be honest, I try to be fair and I made a decision to write about things I like, things I could perhaps turn other folks on to.

A couple of days ago, I posted about different artists’ covers of What You Won’t Do for Love, which is one of my favourite songs. And I felt a little bad about it afterwards, as I broke my own rule of being positive to do it. What I really wanted to do was indulge in another post celebrating the greatness of Bobby Caldwell’s original, but this time round I did that by snarking at some other artists who didn’t measure up. There’s endless material for snark if all you want to do is point and laugh at bad cover versions. I’ll name no names and point no fingers. A well-written slam might be funny, and provide pleasure to the reader, but only at the cost of the creator.

Now, artists who do bad work should be kept honest by bad reviews, but it helps if those reviews are constructive. Otherwise you’re not being a critic; you’re just throwing tomatoes at some poor musician in the stocks. And I wasn’t being constructive enough the other day, so I’m going to cut that shit out now.  I’m here (in the more general sense of the term) because I’m a lucky, lucky man. I have no right to be. And after an event like I had, it’s only natural to have your perspective changed a bit. But after a while, the routine of everyday life – of having to earn money, fulfill obligations to family, friends, employers and so on – can easily make the world seem like a grind again. Not uncaring or cruel necessarily, but like a big grey machine that I’m just a small part of. And it makes me start thinking like I did back before I got ill. In this little corner of the internet, that’s not what it’s about. It’s about detailed celebrations of the awesome.

And so I apologise for my lapse into snark the other day. It won’t happen again. And let me just say, to make things up to Go West (who came in for a good amount of the snark), that I enjoy Call Me as much as any one else who’s ever ridden through sunny Vice City on a big-ass motorbike while wearing a pastel suit and blasting Flash FM.

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Tommy Vercetti is an innocent man.

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A necessary duty – I listen to all the various covers of What You Won’t Do for Love so you don’t have to

What You Won’t Do for Love, then. I’ve written about it before, as long-time readers may know. A perusal of the search terms that have led some folks here in the last couple of months suggests that a lot of people know the song, but don’t know who sang it, Boz Scaggs sometimes being assumed to be the artist responsible. I can understand why: apart from the obvious stylistic similarity, Caldwell even sounds like Boz vocally on some of his songs (My Flame, for instance). But as far as I know, Scaggs never has recorded What You Won’t Do for Love. It’d be like Neil Young recording Horse With No Name, or Dylan doing Eve of Destruction (except What You Won’t Do for Love is perfect, glorious and unassailable, while Eve of Destruction is miserable, wretched and laughable).

Loads of artists have taken it on, though. So here’s a run-through of some of the more notable versions. I may do a second post with more of these. I’m including full covers only, by the way. No samples.

1) Jessie Ware

The most recent take I know of is a Jessie Ware bonus track. A floaty version. I miss the bedrock of a groove on this version and the chirping synths, blipping and beeping all over the stereo field, are distracting. Her inclusion of a very South London delivery of ‘can’t let go’ (with a long ‘a’) in the middle of a vocal on which she otherwise affects an American accent is likewise apt to take me out of the song. There was an idea worth pursuing in this arrangement, she’s not a bad singer, and a less chill-out-in-the-juice-bar remix might improve things, but a thumbs-down from me for this.

2) Alexander O’Neal

This should have been a no-brainer slam dunk of a record. A great soul song and a great soul voice. But unfortunately this song isn’t really suited to the production its given here, which takes a weird 1988-in-2008 kind of approach. Alex slinks over the top of it, but the track is leaden and uninspiring.

3) Natalie Cole and Peabo Bryson

The right kind of backing track on this one, but the groove is a little on the slow side, making the song drag unnecessarily, and the arrangement is a touch too Jazz FM. Worthy, tasteful, very well sung (the harmonies are great) but a little dull.

4) Michael Bolton

Of course Bolton’s had a go at it! Singing, as always, like he’s in a rare form of dire physical pain that prevents clear enunciation, this is still restrained by his standards: the drums sound like they were recorded in a room rather than a cavern and the guitar solo isn’t too garish. Nevertheless, for this most subtle and understatedly adult of love songs, Bolton’s approach is ham-handed and free of nuance

However, if you’re of the mind, Timeless: The Classics Vol. 2 also contains his takes on My Girl, Tired of Being Alone, Sexual Healing, Let’s Stay Together, Ain’t No Sunshine, Whiter Shade of Pale and, um, Like a Rolling Stone, by his old buddy and sometime songwriting partner (yes, really) Bob Dylan. Those of you who want to hear Mike deliver his own idiosyncratic brand of casual ultraviolence on unsuspecting pop-music standards now know where to go.

5) Go West

I have rather more fondness for this than it deserves, since it was the first version I heard (back in the mid-nineties) when it was a reasonably big hit in the UK. Listening now after a good few years, it sounds very, very cheap. Brass section from a keyboard, drums from a box, Peter Cox’s vocal sung as if he was tensing his entire body and clenching his jaw too. But it’s endearing in a way Bolton’s version isn’t, possibly because of that very British make-do-and-mend spirit, in comparison to the high-budget glossiness of Bolton’s effort.

So there is no substitute for Caldwell’s original…

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His ship’s not sinking, he’s the king of wishful thinking, he’s Peter Cox