The Residents: The Residents' Commercial Album (pREServed Edition) (Cherry Red) disc one
Purchased new through mail order
Back to writing my thoughts, autobiographically and about music.
On the plus side, I played an exciting program last night of Sam Rivers' big band music. I'm tired today. I felt on focused but on edge all night; the music was challenging to play correctly and I felt a responsibility to do well. The concert was a success and received with enthusiasm.
On the other hand, this past weekend was the sixth anniversary of the Tree of Life shooting. It occurred to me that I'm going to be reminded every anniversary for the remainder of my life. I don't forget but also don't need a reminder.
Then there's the election. I'm sure it has put a substantial amount of the population in a state of anxiety, myself included. I think Harris is more likely than not to win the election, so part of me is cautiously optimistic. And yet, I know there's an excellent chance Trump could win again, which fills me with tremendous dread. Not just because he's who he is (use your choice of descriptor here, I don't need to do so), but many people have placed so much of their faith in this awful, awful man. My wife warned me, "You need to be prepared for what could happen" without saying what that was. I knew what she meant. I told, I know I do.
When Trump won the election eight years ago, I shut myself off from all broadcast news for four weeks and listened to the most severe, downbeat music I could find. Music that would normally comfort or console me wasn't right; only music that was bleak and severe felt correct in the moment. I think this time it could be doubly true. I have physical copies of albums by Swans, Khanate, Gnaw Their Tongues, Abruptum on the ready.
And if luck should have it that Harris wins? Then I could still listen to those things, but because I choose to do so, not because I need to.
Tonight's selection falls under the category of comfort music. I've written about The Residents on this blog several times in the past, so I don't feel a need to fill in the complete story. They were something I discovered in high school. I've never lost my love of their early work, and in my opinion this is their last "great" album. In recent years I spun my copy of their subsequent album, Mark of the Mole, and I found myself enjoying it more than I had remembered. Nonetheless, I'm not a big fan of "storytelling through sound." That's even more true of their album Eskimo, an album I admire more than I enjoy. I'd draw a distinction between those albums and Not Available, which comes across more like chamber opera or cantata.
Is there a more preposterous concept album than this? An LP of forty exactly one minute songs? There's probably some ridiculous heavy metal rock opera that's a silly take on, oh I don't know, the story of Gilgamesh or such that's...stupid. But forty songs on an album?
What's amazing is how much of it I find memorable. It's true that I spent a lot of time listening to it in my youth. I'm not willing to say that every piece on it is amazing, there are a fair number of quaint instrumentals that could have probably been excised if length was at issue. No doubt many of the pieces could have expanded into more traditional length songs. Despite these things, in the words of my friend Jason (who's probably reading this now), "It works."
There's some more serious musical muscle added to these sessions compared to other albums. The name Don Jackovich came up on previous Residents recordings prior to this; he's a percussionist who faded into obscurity after this time. (He died in 2019 at 66.) Fred Frith is the "extra hard-working guest musician" and his fingerprints are all over these recordings: bass, guitar (clearly the soloist on "Moisture"), violin. Fellow Henry Cow and Art Bears bandmate to Fred, Chris Cutler, adds some percussion, almost certainly on "Moisture" as well. Frequent collaborator Snakefinger plays some and sings one song. "Sandy Sandwich" was revealed to be Andy Partridge of XTC, who sings "Margaret Freeman". It's been known for years that Lene Lovich sang "Picnic Boy". (It's not hard to tell when you hear it.) "Mud's Sis" is now known to have been Nessie Lessons, one time wife of Hardy Fox, before he came out as gay. Hardy (who outed himself as the musical director of The Residents shortly before his death) clearly sings several songs. One of those songs is "Suburban Bathers" which it's more recently been revealed that David Byrne sang the accompanying vocals. The one I didn't know until just now is the Brian Eno played synth on "The Coming of the Crow".
Brian and David don't add significantly to the album, but only adds to The Residents mystique. I guess it's their inside joke among those involved. "We had a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee on our album, and nobody knows it." Until recently.
I have some of the pREServed edition reissues of Residents albums, and only occasionally do the bonus cuts add much the quality of original issues, other than seeing some of what the band left on the cutting room floor. Some of the pieces probably could have made the cut if worked on more, but there's nothing that's a bonus that I would substitute for anything on the original issue. The last listed cut on disc one was a contribution to the Miniatures compilation, The Residents' take on The Ramones' "We're a Happy Family" interpolated "Bali Ha'i" from the musical South Pacific (the latter not acknowledged on the original issue). It's classic Residents but also not appropriate for Commercial Album.
The funniest bonus is the secret cut at the end of this disc. As a publicity stunt to promote this album, Ralph Records bought forty one minute commercial spots on the biggest rock station in San Francisco and had each of the original songs played once. The cut here is the radio announcer introducing each song, by number. While The Residents were selling well for an obscure, self-released independent band at the time, I can't imagine this paid for itself in sales.
Listening to it, I feel happy.
