Oh, to have been young and living in New York City during the late seventies.
Each night offered a myriad of opportunities to catch new and revolutionary bands tearing apart the local scene. How do you choose between the Ramones at CBGB's or the Heartbreakers at Max's? Patty Smith. Blondie. Television. The Talking Heads. The choices were mindbending.
What we're going to do then is look at some of the live recorded output of two of these seminal bands and use that as a gauge to direct our ever eager entertainment-seeking, 1970's ears for the evening.
First up is this double platter of masterful guitar histrionics from Television, The Blow-Up. Recorded in 1978, just before the band's break-up, this gives a taste as to what it was like to see the boys live, crammed into the grungy confines of CBGB. Putting out more muscle and amped-up rawness than on their studio albums, live we hear why Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd were considered the guitar heroes of punk rock. Eschewing the blues for frenetic bursts of spastic guitar interplay, Verlaine and Lloyd simply tear it up. Just listen to the tone of the first big solo on their U.K. hit "Prove it," the spasms of guitar interjection during "Elevation," or the intensely anxious, guitar free-form abandon of the 15 minute improvisational epics, "Little Johnny Jewel," and "Marquee Moon."
This is how reputations were made. Layered and complex, and nothing short of stunning. Despite the poor sound, the band being a little sloppy-- at times stopping just short of anarchic-- and a rhythm section that faded in and out of the mix, this is still an essential platter from a band flying on all cylinders.
Playing just down the street, however, is the Talking Heads, taking control of the stage as if their lives depended on it. As the definitive Heads live album (forget about the overly commercial Stop Making Sense) this double album captured the band at two stages of their career, both before they reached mass acceptance. The first disc, recorded during 1977-1979 features the original four members tearing through songs mostly from their first two albums. Immediately, it's clear, this band was hungry and headed for bigger things. The sound is huge, the drums being particularly gigantic in the mix. Despite the plethora of time changes and mood swings, the foursome are immensely tight, an absolutely fluid machine. Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz just don't get nearly the respect they deserve, but as a rhythm section they propelled the band with mesmerizing abandon. David Byrne's voice is in exceptionally provocative form, particularly on the subversive "Psycho Killer," and the flailing neurosis of an early rendition of "Air."
The second disc finds the band expanded to include Adrian Belew and Bernie Worrell (and others) joining for the 1980-81 "Remain in Light," tour. If the sound of the band previously was huge, here it's massive, literally obliterating the polyrhythmic dance fest of "I Zimbra," or the essential "Life During Wartime." Screams of Belew's guitar punctuate the mix like an arrow tearing through armor. Amazing stuff!
Two impeccable displays by some of NYC's finest. But when it comes down to buying tickets for the show, a decision still has to be made. Seeing Television at that time, I would've stood there with my mouth agape in awe; seeing the Heads, I would've died from dehydration from the unfightable urge to dance.
My ticket: The Talking Heads.
--Racer
Buy here: The Blow-Up
Buy here: The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads
Each night offered a myriad of opportunities to catch new and revolutionary bands tearing apart the local scene. How do you choose between the Ramones at CBGB's or the Heartbreakers at Max's? Patty Smith. Blondie. Television. The Talking Heads. The choices were mindbending.
What we're going to do then is look at some of the live recorded output of two of these seminal bands and use that as a gauge to direct our ever eager entertainment-seeking, 1970's ears for the evening.First up is this double platter of masterful guitar histrionics from Television, The Blow-Up. Recorded in 1978, just before the band's break-up, this gives a taste as to what it was like to see the boys live, crammed into the grungy confines of CBGB. Putting out more muscle and amped-up rawness than on their studio albums, live we hear why Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd were considered the guitar heroes of punk rock. Eschewing the blues for frenetic bursts of spastic guitar interplay, Verlaine and Lloyd simply tear it up. Just listen to the tone of the first big solo on their U.K. hit "Prove it," the spasms of guitar interjection during "Elevation," or the intensely anxious, guitar free-form abandon of the 15 minute improvisational epics, "Little Johnny Jewel," and "Marquee Moon."This is how reputations were made. Layered and complex, and nothing short of stunning. Despite the poor sound, the band being a little sloppy-- at times stopping just short of anarchic-- and a rhythm section that faded in and out of the mix, this is still an essential platter from a band flying on all cylinders.
Playing just down the street, however, is the Talking Heads, taking control of the stage as if their lives depended on it. As the definitive Heads live album (forget about the overly commercial Stop Making Sense) this double album captured the band at two stages of their career, both before they reached mass acceptance. The first disc, recorded during 1977-1979 features the original four members tearing through songs mostly from their first two albums. Immediately, it's clear, this band was hungry and headed for bigger things. The sound is huge, the drums being particularly gigantic in the mix. Despite the plethora of time changes and mood swings, the foursome are immensely tight, an absolutely fluid machine. Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz just don't get nearly the respect they deserve, but as a rhythm section they propelled the band with mesmerizing abandon. David Byrne's voice is in exceptionally provocative form, particularly on the subversive "Psycho Killer," and the flailing neurosis of an early rendition of "Air."The second disc finds the band expanded to include Adrian Belew and Bernie Worrell (and others) joining for the 1980-81 "Remain in Light," tour. If the sound of the band previously was huge, here it's massive, literally obliterating the polyrhythmic dance fest of "I Zimbra," or the essential "Life During Wartime." Screams of Belew's guitar punctuate the mix like an arrow tearing through armor. Amazing stuff!
Two impeccable displays by some of NYC's finest. But when it comes down to buying tickets for the show, a decision still has to be made. Seeing Television at that time, I would've stood there with my mouth agape in awe; seeing the Heads, I would've died from dehydration from the unfightable urge to dance.
My ticket: The Talking Heads.
--Racer
Buy here: The Blow-Up
Buy here: The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads
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