Upon My Wicked Son – Andy Prieboy

Having replaced Stan Ridgeway as lead singer in Wall Of Voodoo and then launching a solo career, the self styled Dark Prince of the LA Underground Andy Prieboy arrived at this album in 1990.

Although several Wall Of Voodoo members contribute Prieboy had clearly moved on from the band and even though the first song is a cover of Canned Heat’s On The Road Again, this album is very much Prieboy creating his own alternative universe.

It’s a film noir James Ellroy flavoured universe filled with fringe characters and shadowy situations. What allows Prieboy to get away with traversing this territory is an innate sense of humour and a musical palate that keeps the music urgent and interesting rather than becoming maudlin. It is arguably self-indulgent but I’d argue its not because he always seeks to entertain his listeners as much as he entertains himself.

One highlight that is on the darker side but not suffering because of it is Prieboys version of Tomorrow Wendy. The Prieboy penned song had already been a hit of sorts for Concrete Blonde and that bands singer Johnette Napolitano returns a favour here by duetting with Prieboy. As much as I love the Concrete Blonde version this album contains the definitive reading of the song – Prieboy’s vocal is incredibly seductive in its delivery of the sad subject matter.

More upbeat are songs like Montezuma Was A Man Of Faith, Nearer To Morning and  the almost vaudevillian Man Talk which utilizes the same chattering typewriter  percussive style that featured on a few Wall Of Voodoo songs. The song reaches an absurd epic conclusion.

It leads into the almost country/choral (now that’s a combination you never expected to find) feel of Loving The Highway Man.

Prieboy of course went on the write a rock opera based on the rise of Axl Rose (called White Trash Wins Lotto) and he kind of foreshadows this with the outrageous pastiche entitled The New York Debut Of An LA Artist (Jazz Crowd). Joliet also offers an operetta approach that sounds a little like what Rufus Wainwright might have had he been floating around the wrong part of town in the LA underground in the early 90’s.

Naturally Upon My Wicked Son wasn’t a big commercial hit in its day but it certainly stands up now as an impressive and brilliantly constructed piece of work. Ironically for Prieboy a not dissimilar approach to music about a decade later led to Beck being lauded as a pioneer.

Andy Prieboy deserves to be remembered as an artist of genuine value and this as a fine example of his craft.

Johnette Napolitano – The Corner

In Australia for a short two city tour former Concrete Blonde frontperson Johnette Napolitano was travelling light. For most of the show her band consisted of herself (with acoustic guitar) and drummer Gabriel Ramirez. This format meant, by definition, that some fan favourites from her punk/alternative/rock past were not going to crack the setlist.

But for the large and varied crowd in at the Corner the details of the set list were largely secondary. There are few artists around that could attract such a diverse set of sub-cultures to their show. Mohawked punks, aging indie kids, urban potheads, post-industrial NIN aficionados, earnest rock cognoscenti and even a smattering of suburban pub rock supporters found themselves, if not united, then at least happily co-habitating.

It is a tribute to the object of their attention that they all left happy.

I’d seen Concrete Blonde a lot of times and been impressed by the magnitude of sound created by a three piece (especially a three piece utilizing Jim Mankey’s angular guitar playing) and yet it didn’t seem at all ingongruous to see Johnette open the show solo and acoustic. In yet another endorsement of the view that ‘power’ in music need not only come from volume or mass, Johnette was riveting from the get-go. You (well maybe “I”) tended to forget just how arresting and intense her voice is moving seamlessly from vulnerable aching to banshee screams in the space of a song.

An early offering of an acoustic Joey stripped back to a pained lament was welcomed even by those who remembered it more as a chart hit rather than a dark apology.

Joined by Ramirez, Johnette played “a drinking song”, Take Me Home from 2001 album Group Therapy. The line from that song “life is beautiful & terrible & strange” goes a long way to defining the world view expressed by Johnette. She sees the best in people and places, is aware of the worst of the same and is fascinated by both ends of the spectrum and all the colours in between.

From there the set ran off in a number of different directions, not all of them in parallel. There were a few Concrete Blonde songs such as Mexican Moon, I Don’t Need a Hero, Carry Me Away and the acapella Roses Grow which remains an outrageously cool piece of work (and to my ears always spiritually related to the work of the late poet Jim Carroll).

But there were some unexpected inclusions as well. One was the Coldplay song The Scientist which Johnette had recorded with NIN member Danny Lohner for a movie and a wonderful reading of Ghost Riders In The Sky, dedicated to Johnette’s recently departed father.

Too soon the set concluded but for the encore Johnette was joined by James Lomas and Fiona Lee Maynard for a rousing rendition of Bloodletting (aka The Vampire Song). This was followed by a very unexpected and quite frankly very ragged cover of Midnight Oil’s Beds Are Burning. But its imperfections hardly detracted from the spirit of the performance and the song was a welcome addition.
The crowd had been provided with a very representative cross section of Johnette Napolitano’s musical journey and so when she returned with a striking performance of the stark Tomorrow Wendy.

As is always the case with artists of this calibre there was another concerts worth of songs that could have easily been included but to complain about any absentees would be churlish. Johnette Napolitano remains an important and vital artist welcome back to our shores anytime.

Johnette Napolitano Converses

Anyone visiting this website regularly (and I know who you are so don’t try and hide behind that thin tree)  will  know that Johnette Napolitano is an artist about whom I have generated many a word over the years.

But I’m only paying her back because in the many conversations I’ve had with her over the journey she too has generated many a word.

It’s only words….

But its for artists like Johnette that this website actually exists. You may have noticed that I play favourites on here and that’s because I can. Johnette has always been a favorite and so when word got out that she was going to do a short tour of Australia I was quick to request an interview.

“Interview” is a funny word for it. I don’t do interviews any more. I have “conversations”, (and not just little conversations). I have conversations with people I like.

Here’s some annotated excerpts from that conversation.

HHMM : So where do we find you and how do we find you?

JN : I’m sitting on the porch at my house at the Joshua Tree. My Dad passed away three weeks ago and so I have his Golden Retrievers head in my lap. That has changed my world a lot. I really loved my dad a lot and so him passing away has changed my stuff a lot. But basically I couldn’t be more fortunate. I love Joshua Tree. It’s where I live and I love it and I’m doing some work that I really want to do.

HHMM : What is your balance now between art and music and other things like looking after the place where you live?

JN : Priorities change over the years. I still love to play and I do play, but I don’t really do as much as I used to but when I do I have a lot more fun.
One thing doesn’t matter without the other. A good song doesn’t matter unless where I live is cool. It’s that simple. I’m very happy to have found some balance in that way. It’s good to find your life and see where everything fits and realise that everything is very integral to your wholeness and your well being. I owe everybody the very best at what I can do all the time which ironically means simplifying everything. I know you know what I mean by that.

I do know what she means and this little site is a good example of it. Like the music business, the publishing business got a whole lot healthier when you were able to start doing it yourself.

HHMM : How has the post apocalypse music business treated you?

JN : It’s more of the same. It’s the same as in 1979 and 1980. It gets big, it eats itself and creates a vacuum. The indie labels and now the artists themselves fill that vacuum. It’s that way now but its even easier because you have so much more access to the media. I don’t understand why anybody could be complaining about anything. I’m better off now than I have been in the last 10 years in the music business. I’m more accessible and I can get myself out there. It’s a good time.

Johnette has recently released a couple of albums called Sketchbooks which were essentially limited edition collections of music doodlings and ideas. In a way this was an expression of the freedom she was allowed being free of record label ties. It must be nice to be able to make music without worrying that the A&R guy is concerned because the marketing department is worried that the business affairs guys don’t hear a single.

But even with that freedom Johnette is returning to the idea of making more completed albums.

JN : A thousand CDs I can sell no problem and I’m lucky to be able to do that. I was able to get away with putting a half arsed idea on it and throwing it out there. People liked it, because, god bless ‘em, they were fans. But I think I owe them a bit more now. I’ve worked with some people who have upped my game. So I think that if someone goes to I Tunes now for 99c they deserve something more than a half baked idea.

HHMM : I read that you played with some old friends recently in California.

JN : I sat in with Bruce Moreland the other night in Long Beach. He’s called Ravens Moreland now and he has amazing people in his band. It was great. He’s playing a lot of the stuff he wrote for Wall of Voodoo. He’s scary. He’s like The Cure but scary. If Tarantino produced The Cure it would sound like Ravens Moreland.

HHMM : I saw you describe it as being like a reunion of the LA punk scene. Then the same day I saw this thing on Facebook trying to organise a reunion of the Melbourne punk scene of the 80’s. It kinda struck me that organising a reunion wasn’t a very punk kinda thing to do!

JN : Hahaha – well the ones that are left are trying. But they had better hurry up! It is a weird concept but its also kinda nice when you lose enough people to see so many still alive and doing stuff and its kinda heartening to see that people are still there for the music. No matter what you do its always about the music and it always has to be. That’s what was nice about it. I don’t care what genre of music it is – if you are still doing it after all this time you have either married well or you really love your music – either way – good job!

There was another whole bunch of stuff that we talked about but really if I typed it all out this would start to look like an interview and not a conversation. Suffice to say that we talked a bit about death and life and being adults. The interview took place before the news of Jim Carroll’s death came through or otherwise we would have talked a lot about that.

For those who need to know in her Australian shows Johnette will be playing music from the full gamut of her career. She’ll be doing plenty of Concrete Blonde songs. Did I mention she was the lead singer of Concrete Blonde? No? Well she was and they were one of the best so-called “alternative” bands of the late 80s and 90’s and briefly in 2002. But hopefully if you got this far into reading this without me mentioning the band name I was correct in treating that as assumed knowledge. She’ll play some music that derives from her interest in Hispanic music and some new songs. She’ll have a great band with her because she wouldn’t bother doing it unless she had a great band.

But she’ll also being visiting her god daughter who lives in Melbourne.

“She’s old enough to have a conversation now which is what I was waiting for”.

More words, more conversations…….

Johnette Napolitano Returns

Johnette Napolitano is one of the all time favourites of this here website thingy. From her time in Concrete Blonde to her other adventures in sound and art Napolitano has always followed her own path, her own instincts and her own thought processes to come up with music and visual art that challenges both herself and her audiences.

She’s a maverick with a number of causes and she somehow manages to blend idealism and cynicism to be one of the more interesting characters to skirt around the fringes of the mainstream.

She’s a collaborator who counts the likes of Andy Prieboy, Holly Vincent, Chris Bailey and Marc Moreland as her partners in crime and yet she’s an independent spirit who wont sit still long enough for anyone to attach themselves for more than a passing phase.

Johnette Napolitano is a light in the darkness and a shady character who cant stand too much direct sunlight. She’s somewhat of a gypsy living everywhere from mexico to New York, from Los Angeles to London from The New Mexico desert to Hawaii and in October she will be found in Australia.

Only two exclusive shows are scheduled so you’ll need to be quick off the mark to ensure your spot.

MELBOURNE:
Thursday, October 8 @ Corner Hotel (57 Swan Street, Richmond, Vic)

SYDNEY:
Saturday, October 10 @ The Gaelic Theatre (64 Devonshire Street, Surry Hills, NSW)

($47.20+bf or $55 door)
Tickets on sale NOW @ The Corner Box Office and The Gaelic Club

Concrete Blonde’s Lawn Bowls Day

In the last few years lawn bowls has become a fashionable pursuit amongst the inner city cognoscenti – or at there has been a realisation amongst the hipsters that cheap beer is available for the price of a membership of a bowls club.

But back in the mid eighties lawn bowls was still definitely the province of grumpy retirees and stern matrons in white uniforms.

It certainly wasn’t the favoured activity of touring alternative rockers.

Concrete Blonde weren’t your normal alternative rockers.

I had been a fan of the LA band since their debut single True. I’d reviewed it in glowing terms for In Press, played it on my weekly guest spot on the Triple R Breakfasters show and generally saw myself as a champion for the band in this country. When their album of the same name was released I was all over it and when the band was announced to be making a tour of Australia I was aquiver with anticipation.

Now these were the days when I was partial to a Wild Turkey & Coke at any opportunity and thus it wasn’t that surprising to find me holding up the bar at Inflation on a Monday night late one summer. Inflation, for those who came in late, was  a King St nightclub back before ‘King St nightclub’ was an euphemism for ‘titty bar’. Inflation actually had a “rock’ night on a Monday night in those days and I was a regular bar prop. It was important to support ‘rock’ nights, especially on Mondays.

Being a hospitable kind of music scenester/rock journo I had no hesitation introducing myself to Concrete Blonde drummer Harry Rushokoff when he wandered into Inflation unannounced one Monday night. Harry, to his eternal credit, was an ideal bloke to be hospitable to and one thing led to another and a huge night on the piss ensued. There were others involved in our little early week gathering of course but I’ve forgotten exactly who they were and who they might now be married to.

Anyways me and my new best mate Harry decided to call it a night sometime just before the next day but only after agreeing to meet again that afternoon to continue where we had left off.

I picked up Harry at his hotel in StKilda mid afternoon the next day with the intentions of getting back on the turps but instead found that he had his bandmates Johnette Napolitano and Jim Mankey with him.  Now getting on the piss with the drummer was one thing but meeting Johnette and Jim elevated the event to another more esoteric level.

Johnette was, in my mind, a ‘star’ – albeit in the so-called “alternative” universe. She was smart, sexy, dangerous and ridiculously cool. She knew Michael Stipe. He had named their band. Jim Mankey was a minor legend. He had played with Leon Russell, he had been a member of Sparks. Suddenly my coolness credentials had been increased dramatically.

With all due respect to drummers.

Harry had apparently given me a good report because Jim and Johnette were quite willing to devote the afternoon to my abbreviated tour of Melbourne. The tour was going to start in Greville St, Prahran.

Driving from StKilda to Prahran with all three members of Concrete Blonde in my car I had that feeling that many record company promo people have described. “What if I crash the car and kill the whole band?”

I didn’t.

We got to Greville St, wandered through the thrift shops, Greville Records and similar establishments that gave Greville St its flavour before it became too gentrified. Our wandering took us down a side street and towards the Prahran Bowls Club.

I didn’t give it a second thought but all three band members got the giggles. It took me a few seconds to realise that they were laughing at the geriatric bowlers in their whites rolling the bowls up and down the green.

I quickly ascertained that they had never seen lawn bowls before.

Apparently America isn’t big on lawn bowls and the sight of a large number of Prahran pensioners, in white uniforms, little hats and comfortable shoes, earnestly pursuing their sport was a new one for Concrete Blonde.

I don’t think the Prahran bowlers had seen the likes of Concrete Blonde that often. Harry was swarthy, heavily tattooed and vaguely militarist in appearance. Jim was hippie-like all the way down to his mane of straight waist length hair and tie-dye t-shirt, Johnette had that American gothic look going with lots of black lace, heavy eyes and silver jewellery.

It wasn’t  long until the two cultures collided.

Lead by Harry the band was drawn towards the bowlers and after pausing long enough to get my approval that the bowlers weren’t somehow off limits, they marched through the gate of the bowling club.

Actually “marched” wasn’t the right word – it actually seemed like the band were a bit intimidated by the bowlers.

We were approached by an old fella who was clearly the head bouncer. After explaining to him that my friends were “Americans” who had never seen bowls before he responded by explaining that the days competition was almost complete and if we wanted to hang around he would personally give us a demonstration and even let us on the green to send a few down.

And that’s exactly what happened. After following orders and removing our shoes we spent the next hour or so being instructed in the finer points of bias, run of the green and the position of the kitty, by our new mate. He was joined by several other members, including some little old ladies, who were also interested in observing the wild beasts in action.
Everyone got on swimmingly. And why wouldn’t they? The band members clearly recognised the slight absurdity of the situation but I presume the bowlers did too.

They stopped short of exchanging numbers and leaving names on the guest list but it was a great way to spent some time.

Later that night when Concrete Blonde were ripping it up on stage at the Central Club the Prahran pensioners were probably home in bed. But that didn’t stop Johnette from dedicating a song, without any explanation, to the “lawn bowlers in Greville St”.

So if you have been wondering what she meant by that for the last 20 or so years, now you know.

True – Concrete Blonde

I knew nothing about Concrete Blonde the first time I heard the title track from this album. I loved the song True from the first play. It had a swing, and a sass and an edge that set it apart from everything else at the time. The lead singer sounded a bit like Chrissie Hynde and she managed to sound world weary and smart mouthed simultaneously. I loved the lyrics that preached self belief in the face of adversity – but not in a preaching way. They sounded like a rock band with a songwriters heart. And it was subtle and under-stated in an era when a lot of music was becoming self consciously clever and not benefiting from it. In short I had a new favourite band.

That was 1986.

It didn’t take me long to investigate the album that provided the song and I wasn’t disappointed.

Listening to the album now I’ve lost none of my enthusiasm. The difference is now that there’s so much more information to go with the music. In the intervening years I’ve played lawn bowls (long story) and had extraordinary discussions about music with guitarist Jim Mankey, I’ve had big and bad nights out with now departed drummer Harry Rushakoff and I’ve spent many strange and rewarding hours of quality time in several cities and two countries with singer and bass player Johnette Napolitano. I haven’t seen her lately but she remains one of the most interesting people I’ve met in music.

It’s almost impossible now to divorce the music from my personal knowledge of the people who made it, but playing this album again reminds me of how much I liked it even before I became acquainted with its makers.

There’s not a track on this album that doesn’t make it a better album, and there’s some that are just brilliant. Songs like Still In Hollywood,  Over Your Shoulder and Dance Along The Edge are songs that no other band could have made. They are perfect showcases for Rushakoffs’s punk metal drumming, Mankeys angular guitars and Johnette’s urgent yet embracing vocals. She’s the kind of singer that can sneer at you and make you cry in a single song.

In Still In Hollywood , Little Sister and Song For Kim her portrayals of the Queen of LA and the title characters respectively are simultaneously heartbreaking and rejuvenating.

(You’re The Only One) Can Make Me Cry is Joplinesque in its delivery and while Cold Part Of Town grows to be awash with layers it doesn’t lose any of its poignancy as a result.

Finishing the album with an instrumental version of True might seem like an odd thing to do but it works a treat as Mankey speaks eloquently and deserves his moment of expression.

True was an album that completely spoke of the place of its gestation. It was a document of LA, but a very different LA to the one being fed to us by 90210. It was Hollywood that literally danced along the edge between desperation and dignity, between the seedy and the sublime. The key line in Still in Hollywood is “It’s 3am , I’m out walking again” This from the town where supposedly nobody walks and the clubs shut at midnight.

You’ve go to remember that True was released the year before another LA band Guns N’ Roses unleashed Appetite For Destruction. Draw from that what you will.

It’s a different debate whether Concrete Blonde went on to top this album – certainly they had bigger hits and standout songs later in their career, but True remains the album that nailed me to the wall. It still does.