Medialoper

Certain Songs #1617: The Posies – “Any Other Way”

August 26, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Dear 23
Year: 1990

. . .

There was a bit of a speedbump in terms of my fully appreciating Dear 23, and it happened about a month after I bought the album, which I liked, but still wasn’t sure I loved.

It happened when Doc and I went down to Hollywood in January 1991 to see The Posies open for The Replacements on what we kinda knew without knowing was going to be the final Replacements tour — at this point, Chris Mars has already left — and they seemed like a strange fit to me. At the time, of course, I didn’t realize that they were worshipers at the altar of Chilton just like Westerberg, and in fact the only thing I knew about them was that they all had the same hair.

Certain Songs #1616: The Posies – “Golden Blunders”

August 25, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Dear 23
Year: 1990

It was a weird time in my life when I got obsessed by Dear 23. It was December 1990, a fucking cold cold month which climaxed with a surprise snowfall during Sedan Delivery’s opening set for the Miss Alans. My brother John had recently moved into the house I’d originally rented with my recently-departed girlfriend, and my drums and band had overtaken the living room now that she had gone.

And here was this Posies record, which had been out a few months before I purchased it, and while I was suspicious of DGC records and the generally big production, the songwriting — always credited to Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow — won me over. And while “Golden Blunders” wasn’t the first song that won me over, at some point, it became my favorite song on the record.

Certain Songs #1615: Pop Art – “The Party”

August 24, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: A Perfect Mental Picture
Year: 1985

. . .

In 1985, Pop Art fulfilled the promise of their self-titled EP with their first full-length album, A Perfect Mental Picture, filled with fourteen intricate guitar-pop songs filled with smart details about the search for love — or at least lust — among twentysomethings.

And, as I don’t have to tell you, it totally and completely took over the world, becoming the biggest-album of 1985, totally and completely turning the music business on its ear, as all of the major labels rushed to sign and release lo-fi guitar pop bands.

Certain Songs #1614: Pop Art – “Cover Me”

August 23, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Pop Art EP
Year: 1984

. . .

While there are loads and loads of bands with a pair of brothers in them — The Kinks, Oasis, Rank and File, Screaming Trees, Sedan Delivery — it’s much rarer to have a band with three or more brothers where they’re not the entire band.

Off the top of my head, I can think of two, both based in Southern California. The Beach Boys, of course, and the far less famous Pop Art. (UPDATE: I found another one! Turns out that the first two Bachman-Turner Overdrive album featured three Bachmans: Randy, Rob and Tim.) Consisting of singer David Steinhart, his brothers Jeff and Rich on guitars and a couple of other guys as the rhythm section, Pop Art some pretty great records of majestic jangle-pop, and even started their own label to release those records.

Certain Songs #1613: The Pooh Sticks – “Baby Wanna Go Round With Me”

August 22, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Million Seller
Year: 1993

. . .

The Pooh Sticks started their life as Scottish indie jokesters, releasing singles with inside joke titles like “I Know Someone Who Knows Someone Who Knows Alan McGee Quite Well” and “Indie Pop Ain’t Noise Pollution” or album titles like The Great White Wonder.

But, of course, if you joke about something long enough, it’s often because you truly love it, and so it came to pass that the third album by the Pooh Sticks, the optimistically titled Million Seller, is a true power pop gem, with couple of songs that match what fellow Scots Teenage Fanclub were doing at the time. Million Seller was filled with songs like the joyful “The World is Turning On,” the gorgeously twee “Rainbow Rider,” and the absolutely irresistible “Baby Wanna Go Round With Me.”

Certain Songs #1612: The Police – “Synchronicity II”

August 21, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Synchronicity
Year: 1983

. . .

So, as probably wouldn’t surprise many of you, I’ve been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be in a band again. Or be in a band at all. Back in the day, I used to joke that being in the band — at least a local band — meant you had all of the responsibilities of both a job and a relationship, only you didn’t didn’t get paid and you didn’t get laid.

And given that I’m writing this just a couple of days before my band’s first gig since January 18, 1992 (not that I’ve been keeping track) — though it won’t post until afterwards — and in the intervening time, I think I’d forgotten all of the logistics, compromises and work involved. All of which is worth it when everything clicks, of course, and you’re making a sound that nobody has ever quite made before and everybody is contributing equally to that sound.

Certain Songs #1611: The Police – “Every Breath You Take”

August 20, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Synchronicity
Year: 1983

. . .

After releasing an album every autumn from 1978-1981, the Police took an extra six months before they came back with their fifth album, Synchronicty, a record that had the temerity to come out a full 18 months after their previous one. Of course, as far as the world was concerted, it was well worth the wait, as Synchronicity was the number one album in the U.S. from late July until Thanksgiving, except for one week where Thriller intruded.

It was part that weird 1982-1985 run where critically acclaimed albums also topped the charts: Beauty and the Beat, Thriller, Synchronicity, Born in the U.S.A, Purple Rain & Like a Virgin all took their turns, dominating the radio, the stadiums, and of course, the MTV, which I think had the world premiere of the first single from Synchronicity, the long-lost “Every Breath You Take.”

Certain Songs #1610: The Police – “Secret Journey”

August 19, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Ghost in the Machine
Year: 1981

. . .

I saw the Police two times during their initial run, both in situations where it was easier to watch the video screen then actually have a chance to see how the band interacted with each other while playing their songs.

The first time was at the US Festival in 1982, and they had the misfortune to follow an absolutely on fire Talking Heads, who killed me so much that I don’t remember the Police’s set, which came at the end of a very very long and scorchingly hot day.

The second time was at Ratcliffe Stadium in Fresno on the 1983 Synchronicity tour, and while there was a video screen of course, the eternal problem with video screens is that I’m stuck watching what the director wants me to watch (Sting) instead of what I want to watch (Stewart Fucking Copeland). Which isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy it: in my compare-and-contrast-with-Translator-at-KFSR’s-first-anniversary review in the Dead Air Diary I pointed out “Synchronicity II” and “Reggatta de Blanc” as highlights.

Certain Songs #1609: The Police – “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic”

August 14, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Ghost in the Machine
Year: 1981

. . .

It’s weird to call the next-to-last album by an artist a “transition album,” but that’s certainly how Ghost in the Machine was perceived at the time: an expansion of basic sound of the Police that set the stage for whatever came next.

And at first, I was a bit leery of all of those horns and keyboards that were slathered upon all of the songs — after all, what made them interesting if not great, was the interplay between Sting’s bass, Stewart Copeland’s drums and Andy Summer’s guitar. And while all of that still existed, it was now buried beneath layers of keyboards. And weirdly enough, to me, at least, it actually narrowed down their sound a bit by removing all of the space that existed.

Certain Songs #1608: The Police – “Don’t Stand So Close to Me”

August 13, 2019 by Jim Connelly

Album: Zenyatta Mondatta
Year: 1980

. . .

And then The Police became superstars in the U.S. In retrospect, I’m not really sure why it took so long, except that the U.S. was finally ready to accept “new wave” artists like The Police, and the things that helped them become major stars in the U.K. — i.e. good-looking dudes playing good-sounding songs — put them at the top of the pile.

And so Zenyatta Mondatta — which I kinda think is the weakest of all of their albums — made it to #5 on the U.S. album charts buoyed by radio play of songs like “Canary in a Coal Mine,” “When the World Is Running Down, You Make the Best of What’s Still Around,” and “Driven to Tears,” which aided and abetted the two genuine hit singles “Dee Doo Doo Doo, Dee Da Da Da” and the jailbait bait “Don’t Stand So Close to Me.”