Weasel

Due to a mix up
For my drawing class I bought
An artist's weasel

Trout Mask Replica by Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band

For along time I thought that Captain Beefheart was just a novelty act like Doctor Demento or Weird Al, so this album was something of a revelation. To say it’s hard going is an understatement, and first impressions are of a shambolic racket with different musicians noodling to whatever groove is playing in their heads while some crazy dude rants random beat poems over the top.

Continued listening is worth it though, although it doesn’t get any easier. This is actually meticulous free jazz where the apparent randomness will sometimes resolve into a tight focus before splintering off again. The lyrics are similarly thought through as a piece of performance art that would obviously go on to inspire people like Tom Waits and David Lynch.

Moonlight-on-Vermont-tastic!

Tangerine, Paint

Beginner's art class
A still life of a fruit bowl
Tangerine painting

Different Class by Pulp

While Blur and Oasis were scrapping it out in the Britpop wars of the 90s, this plucky band from Sheffield snuck up on the inside and took the trophy. Jarvis Cocker’s songs of working class life and the desperation of poverty and unemployment, hit home in a way that other bands never quite managed. Maybe I’m biased, but as someone who lived through the Thatcherite 80s in Sheffield when whole communities were systematically thrown on the scrap heap this album rings true.

The lyrics reminded me of Ray Davies in places, and the music is similarly timeless, especially on the tracks with orchestral arrangements by Anne Dudley. Aside from the hits, the highlights for me were I Spy, which could have been a Bond theme (albeit for a very low rent, pervy James Bond) and Mis-shapes which could have been written about me as gawky young nerd with specs worrying about being beaten up by townies if I ventured out on a Friday night.

Woodchip-tastic!

Waterfall

The river flowing
Over the edge of the cliff
Then the water falls

Siembra by Willie Colón & Ruben Blades

Move over Tokyo Sexwale, we have a new contender for the greatest name in history! Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for señor Willie Colón who, in partnership with the similarly magnificently named Ruben Blades (who really should be wearing a cloak and rescuing senoritas with his rapier), have given us the greatest salsa album of all time.

This was recorded in New York in 1978, and opens with a disco riff before launching into a song about life in a plastic city full of plastic people, and how the Puerto Rican diaspora need to work together for a better life. Heady stuff. Other songs talk about the tough life on the streets and gang violence, as well as more traditional love songs and ballads. This easily stands comparison with greats like Tito Puente and Edmondo Ros. Marvellous stuff!

Swallow

A single swallow
Swooping, seeking sustenance
Signalling summer