Not far beneath the random silliness of We’re Only in It for the Money, there’s a salient message. As Frank Zappa & the Mothers of Invention perform their rather zany depictions of 60‘s counterculture, song by song, the sum amounts to a scathing rebuke of the Hippie movement. For Zappa, Hippiedom is complete sham—a tool for advancing self-interest that’s disguised by false community, faux spirituality, and lots and lots of drugs. We’re Only in It for the Money does more within its dense 39 minute romp than most artists accomplish in an entire career. It’s a reminder that Frank Zappa is a genre in and of himself and, in 1968, he made a remarkable album. 

Released on March 4, 1968 and produced by Frank Zappa, We’re Only in It for the Money peaked at number 30 on the Billboard 200 album chart. While the album sold a fraction of what Beggar’s Banquet by the Rolling Stones or the White Album by the Beatles sold, We’re Only in It for the Money dazzled critics with its razor sharp wit and insane production conventions. The album opens with an audio pastiche of Zappa’s whispers, variety of sounds, and the repeated phrase “Are you hung up?” Then, the record weaves in and out of several one to three minute songs before winding up to the six minute plus noise suite “The Chrome Plated Megaphone of Destiny.”

Controversy is Zappa’s center of gravity. The intended album cover for We’re Only in It for the Money parodied Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in an uncomfortable way. If you hold the Pepper and Money covers side by side (and squint your eyes), you might think the covers are the same. A closer inspection shows Zappa’s subversion of and irreverence for the Beatles. Rather than being dressed in marching band uniforms, the Mothers of Invention are dressed in drag. Like Sgt. Pepper, the big bass drum in the center of the album cover has the title of the album, but here, it implies that the Beatles and their late 60s triptik through the counterculture were “only in it for the money.” Oddly, Jimi Hendrix is actually in the photo, but he is surrounded by so many cardboard cutouts that he looks like a cutout. The record label relegated the intended cover to the inside of the album out of fear of litigation. 

Zappa would go on to be a critic’s darling and all out innovator for the entirety of his career. His album Apostrophe would eventually be certified Gold by the Recording Industry Association of America for selling over 500,000 copies. His talent attracted some of the best session/touring musicians imaginable, including guitar phenom Steve Vai, drumming greats Vinnie Colaluta and Terry Bozzio, and singer Ike Willis.

An album like We’re Only in It for the Money is difficult for me to listen to because I revere Sgt. Pepper and don’t take kindly to Zappa’s satire when it’s pointed at an album I love. But, satire aside, We’re Only in It for the Money is creative playground that’s fun to listen to. It lacks the beauty of Sgt. Pepper, and, at times, sounds like a band of Gru’s minions, but no one can colorably call Zappa’s genius into question. 

A

For an album that only sold 30,000 copies during the year it was released, The Velvet Underground & Nico is a bit of an anomaly as influential albums go. When it debuted, The Velvet Underground & Nico was arguably too edgy to garner any airplay. But, as Brian Eno once said, “everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a band.” In a way, Eno’s observation explains why so many aspects of indie rock can be traced to this very album. From the overused glockenspiel accompaniment heard in contemporary commercials (first heard on “Sunday Morning”) to the use background drones (heard all over the album in the form of John Cale’s viola), all that indie rock would ever become is contained in this single album. 

Released on March 12, 1967 and produced by Andy Warhol and Tom Wilson, The Velvet Underground & Nico is one of the first commercial albums to prominently feature graphic and overt references to drug abuse, sadism & masochism, and prostitution. Lyricist and singer Lou Reed was heavily influenced by edgy poets like William S. Buroughs and Raymond Chandler. In this respect, Andy Warhol’s contribution—as the person who paid for the recording sessions—was key. What record label would touch the Velvet Underground with a 10-foot pole? The music was edgy, too. John Cale’s strung his signature viola with guitar and mandolin strings for that never before heard death drone that appears throughout the album. 

The Velvet Underground & Nico sounds oddly modern for an album released in 1967. As the Beatles recorded Revolver and Sgt. Pepper with an at-the-time cutting edge 4 track tape machine, The Velvet Underground & Nico likely could not have been recorded with more than 4 tracks. Some studios were transitioning to 8 and 16 track systems in the late 60s, but the low recording cost ($3,000.00) leads me to believe the less-track option was used. Somewhere, a book of some kind reveals this mystery, but I haven’t found the information readily available on the internet. 

If you were to trace back the bare bones approach of Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago to its source, you’d end up at The Velvet Underground & Nico. The same can be said for just about any indie rock, lo-fi, or art rock recording. The album plays like the antithesis of convention, a giant, well-formed middle finger. The drums aren’t really played as much as hit now and again. The guitars carry much of the rhythm, which is strange because the album grooves well for having no acertainable rhythm section.

I’m embarrased that the first time I heard this album was just a few weeks ago. Lou Reed’s compositions are sharp, poignant, and challenging. Nico’s presence, which was at the insistance of Andy Warhol, is a divisive element in the Velvet Underground canon, but I rather like the tambre she brings to the three songs on which she sings lead. Few albums are both perfect and groundbreaking—this is one of them. 

A

One of Bob Baker’s 151 easy music promotion activities from The Five-Minute Music Marketer is, “Don’t create in isolation. Upload a demo version or early mix of a song you are working on.” Seems like good advice. 

This past week, I began mixing a song I wrote last year called “Crashed on Neptune.” Building on the piano centered theme from Semigloss Albatross, I’m attempting to expand that sound to a more realized production. I hesitate to use the term “commercial” because I’m not sure anyone really knows what that means anymore. 

Where Semigloss Albatross focused on the song and only the song—most of the record was just me and a piano—this new project is full-bodied. I’m finding that these particular songs lend themselves to a narrative of sounds. 

The first few bars of a song are fairly important because they should employ some kind of hook that causes the listener to keep listening. This particular song has a chunky electric guitar in the front that seemed fair enough but begged for something more. I imagined a delay that morphed somehow as it echoed. What I came up with was running the sound through a delay effect and the delay return through a wah-wah pedal plug-in. Pretty cool. Check it out. 

“Crashed on Neptune” – Intro
I achieved the sound by routing the guitar to an off-time delay, which then hit a wah pedal plug-in.

1966 was a good year for music. Revolver by the Beatles, Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys, Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan, and Aftermath by the Rolling Stones are just four of the incredible albums released in 1966. When selecting a 1966 album for this project, I found that I had heard just about all of the highly rate albums from that year. One record that had generally favorable reviews I had never heard:The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators by the 13th Floor Elevators. 

Released on October 17, 1966 and produced by Lelan Rogers, The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators is the first known use of the term “psychedelic” in an album title as to describe the music therein. “Psychedelic” means “relating to or denoting drugs (especially LSD) that produce hallucinations and apparent expansion of consciousness.”2

The opening guitar phrase of Psychedelic Sounds rings like a surf rock piece from the 1950s before decending into madness. The triplets on the ride cymbal and the ferociousness of the percussion set the mood for an album unlike anything heard before. The frantic mid-range of the electric jug adds a unique texture to the fray. “You gotta open up your mind and let everything come through,” as Roky Erikson sings in the second song, seems to the the overriding theme of Psychedelic Sounds. 

Psychedelic Sounds is one of the first acid rock albums. Acid rock is a sub-genre of music that expresses an interest in taking mind altering drugs and attempts to capture the experience of taking LSD. Acid rock would continue through the late 60s and early 70s as a formidable genre. Bands like Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape, and Iron Butterfly, while offering cleaner masters, are all predated by Psychedelic Sounds. It that way, it ranks as an important album. At times, one can hear sounds that likely influenced The Pixies and early R.E.M.

Psychedelic Sounds, while groundbreaking for historical and cultural purposes, leaves much to be desired in sonic quality. The album could benefit from a remix and re-mastering. In my view, there’s too much high midrange in the guitars and the album is difficult for me to listen to for extended listenings. But still, moments like “You’re Gonna Miss Me” and “Fire Engine” are unstoppable, unforgettable moments that have me tempting fate with repeated listenings, in spite of the harshness. That’s good rock ‘n roll for you.

B-

YearFeatured AlbumOther Notable Albums
1966The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators by the 13th Floor ElevatorsRevolver by the Beatles
Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys
Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan
Aftermath by the Rolling Stones
1965My Generation by The Who Rubber Soul by The Beatles
Bringing It All Back Home by Bob Dylan
1964Kinks by The KinksA Hard Day’s Night by The Beatles
Beatles for Sale by The Beatles
1 This ongoing chart will catalog the albums that I feature in this blog. I include my personal favorite albums under “Other Notable Albums.”

2 Psychedelic, New Oxford American Dictionary, Online Ed.

The Who’s prodigious catalog of amazing music makes it easy to overlook the brilliance of their debut album, My Generation.1 When I think of The Who, my first thoughts go to Pete Townshend’s iconic guitar windmills, Keith Moon’s ferocious drumming, and Roger Daltrey’s epic vocal howls. My Generation reminds me that–before the grandeur of their 1970s stadium glory–The Who were the champions of the mod scene. Their performances of original songs and U.S. R&B classics, all captured on My Generation, were the soundtrack of many a mid-Sixties Austin Powers-esque party in the London swinger scene.

Released on December 3, 1965 and produced by Shel Talmy, My Generation shows off Pete Townshend’s songwriting, Keith Moon’s innovative drumming, John Entwistle’s melodic approach to low end, and Roger Daltrey’s vocal fire. It’s an all out tour-de-force—four creative energies creating something greater than themselves. “My Generation,” the album’s notable single, is nestled at the end of side one, surrounded by only three cover songs, two of which were penned by the enigmatic James Brown.  

For whatever reason, My Generation and its contemporaneous singles, “I Can’t Explain” and “Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere,” found a special place in the mantle of mod culture. Mods were a special subculture of London that dressed well, listened to sophisticated music, took lots of amphetamines, and drove Vespa scooters. Their archenemies were the Rockers, who dressed in leather and drove tough motorcycles. The mods were likely drawn to Keith Moon’s flamboyant drumming and the band’s sophisticated harmonic core. 

My Generation is an album I regret not listening to sooner. It shows the heavy influence of American R&B on a rock band that would later go on to push the boundaries of the concept album and deliver quite a live show. But even on this first offering, The Who push to the outer limits of what had been done with music in 1965. Moon’s drumming is the heaviest yet seen anywhere up until that point. The closing song, “The Ox,” contains distorted guitar tones that predate and sound similar to Jimi Hendrix’s sound. 

The Who captured something remarkable with My Generation. Townshend’s songwriting and Moon’s drumming stand out as the most notable elements of the album. Yet Entwistle and Daltry deliver an elegance as well. The weakness of the album is “A Legal Matter,” which has Townshend singing lead vocals on a song bemoaning being married and the droll day to day life of raising children. The song seems out of place on an otherwise mod album. If the 1960s weren’t so single oriented, including the two singles that preceded My Generation in lieu of the album’s minor blemish would have improved the album for me.   

A-

Bonus: Live footage of “My Generation” from 1965. Note how awesome Keith Moon’s drumming is.

YearFeatured AlbumOther Notable Albums
1965My Generation by The Who Rubber Soul by The Beatles
Bringing It All Back Home by Bob Dylan
1964Kinks by The KinksA Hard Day’s Night by The Beatles
Beatles for Sale by The Beatles
1 This ongoing chart will catalog the albums that I feature in this blog. I include my personal favorite albums under “Other Notable Albums.”

Kinks, by the Kinks, opens with a vocal that’s more distorted than the electric guitars that accompany it. The crunchiness of Ray Davies’ voice doesn’t come from it being sung through an amplifier or as a by-product of some studio trick. Rather, it’s distorted because he sings with monstrous, legendary intensity. That’s rock ‘n roll for you. Kinks gets my vote for the best album of 1964 that I’ve never heard (until now, of course).1

Released on October 2, 1964 and produced by Shel Talmy, Kinks showcases Ray Davies’ razor sharp songwriting and dazzling vocal prowess. “You Really Got Me” stands out as the obvious best track, but “So Mystifying” and “Stop Your Sobbing” show Davies’ writing potential. Like many albums of the era, most of the songs on Kinks are cover versions. “Too Much Monkey Business” and “Beautiful Delilah,” both originally performed and written by Chuck Berry, stand out as remarkable interpretations.

Kinks exemplifies the “Mersey Beat” or “Beat” sound. The Beatles popularized the Mersey sound in the prior year with their stand out albums, Please Please Me and With the Beatles. The Beat sound synthesized American rock ‘n roll, skiffle, and British pop music and features a strong back beat, (Hint: listen for the snare drum to hit on beats 2 and 4). Authentic Mersey records consist of live band performances with minimal overdubs. The personality of the players and the dynamics of the band are impossible to mask on these early rock ‘n roll recordings. 

And, therein lies the cool thing about music in 1964. The Zombies, Herman’s Hermits, the Animals, the Kinks, and the Beatles all played American rock ‘n roll covers. But each band performed the same songs so very differently. “Long Tall Sally,” a Little Richard song covered by both the Kinks and the Beatles, takes on a completely different life depending on who plays it.

Davies’ songwriting is the shining star of Kinks. His vocal performances and his brother’s approach to guitar are much more rambunctious than most other Beat bands–that’s one thing that makes Kinks such a fun album. The greatest weakness of Kinks is the lack of original songs, but that’s more a function of the times than a deficiency of the band. It wasn’t until A Hard Day’s Night by the Beatles (also released in 1964) that a rock band wrote every single song on a chart topping album. Kinks is a welcome addition to my music collection.

B+

Bonus: “You Really Got Me” (Live) + some awesome folk dancing

YearFeatured AlbumOther Notable Albums
1964Kinks by the KinksA Hard Day’s Night by the Beatles
Beatles for Sale by the Beatles
1 This ongoing chart will catalog the albums that I feature in this blog. I include my personal favorite albums under “Other Notable Albums.”

On the early afternoon of May 22, 2021, Ivy and I made our way to the venue. Even though Gibsonville is in Guilford County, Grove Winery & Vineyards is nestled at the end of several winding back roads. We arrived around 2:30 pm.

I drove right up to the stage and unloaded my gear, which consisted of four guitars, an amp, a floor board, and a keyboard set up. We didn’t start sound checking until about 4:30 pm, so Ivy and I walked around the grounds for a bit. My two favorite parts of Grove Winery were the vineyard rows and the lake behind the stage with the loud bullfrogs. The rows of grapes reminded me of some kind of rustic farming–idyllic in its own way. The bullfrogs called from the lake every now and then during the daylight hours. As night fell, they croaked constantly.

Ryan did an excellent job with the sound production. It didn’t hurt that he’s the front of house engineer for My Morning Jacket. He and James, his assistant, rung out the PA and dialed in the monitors quite well. Sound check was relatively effortless in that we were able to use the time to get used to the stage rather than mitigate flaws in the staging.

As people arrived, I spent some time reconnecting with friends and fans that I hadn’t seen in ages. What I enjoy most about Collapsis reunions is hearing how our music was a soundtrack for a particular part of a person’s life. About an hour before the Grove show, one couple told me that they listened to Dirty Wake everyday of their daughter’s first year of life. And, when they saw that we were playing within two hours of where they live, they had to make a family road trip out of it so they could share the music with their now 20 year old daughter.

Chris started off the show with some original acoustic songs. Before his set, Chris shared with me his rationale for using a Martin acoustic guitar. This particular guitar had two pickups and allowed for a nice blending in the PA. Chris’s songs would sit well in a playlist of Gram Parsons and Chris Bell songs–a very good performance.

I played some songs on the piano for the next part of the show. I performed “Gravity Affects Me,” “Semigloss Albatross,” “Oceans,” and “End.” The first song was from my 2004 EP of the same name and the third song was from my 1996 album, The Lessons of Autumn. The second and fourth songs were from my most recent album Semigloss Albatross. Performing on the piano is not as fluid for me as performing on the guitar, but the only way to get better at something is to keep trying, live, without a net.

The next part of the show featured just Scott and me–I played acoustic guitar and Scott played light drums with hot rod sticks. We did “Trouble in the Barynard,” “Crocodile,” “Believe in You,” and “Wonderland.” The first two songs were from The Lessons of Autumn and Building a Hole, respectively, while the last two were from the Collapsis album, Dirty Wake.

After a short break, the Collapsis set began. Chris made the set list and it flowed quite well. We tried to put songs in places we hadn’t usually put them. “Stumble,” for example, was almost always a transitional song in our sets. But for this show, we opened with it. “High Caliber Grease” often got relegated to our encores for one reason or another. But we played it mid-set this time.

We tried a handful of new cover songs and peppered them in the set here and there. “Eminence Front” by The Who was never a song I ever anticipated covering, but Ryan pointed out that it’s in the same key as “Dirty Wake” and would transition well out of it. “Feel” by Big Star added a chance to showcase Chris on lead vocals. “Corduroy” by Pearl Jam transitioned well out of our version of “Breathe” by Pink Floyd. Our show closer was “Life’s What You Make It” by Talk Talk. We invited James Chen to play keys with us on this song. Dillon Fence alumnus Chris Goode just happened to be sitting in the front row, so we invited him to play bass on the last song. Chris Holloway moved over to floor tom and added a polyrhythm to Scott’s groove.

As the set ended and people began to leave, I contributed to helping pack up the PA and getting the stage straight. Just before leaving, we took a band photo.