five anagrams for “max abelson” that i hope no one ever suggests, based on ten alternate anagrams for “talking heads” besides brian eno’s kings lead hat:
1. samba en lox
2. no lab exams
3. ox nabs male (alternately: blames an ox)
4. blame sax? no.
5. male ax snob
#834: talking heads - crosseyed and painless (1980, rome)
ten anagrams for “talking heads” that brian eno could have used instead of king’s lead hat, the song on before and after science that scrambled the name of his friend david byrne’s band, in decreasing order of liklihood:
1. a naked slight
2. dealt shaking
3. a snaked light
4. ska night deal
5. a gnashed kilt
6. knighted? alas.
7. data! elks! nigh!
8. a gash tinkled
9. sandal keg hit
10. gal asked, “hint?”
#736: roxy music - editions of you (1973)
there is rock music, glam music, glamorous music, sax music, which can be sex music, which is like naval music, which is different than naval-gazing music, which isn’t shoe-gazing music, which can be nod music, plus there’s knob music and nob music, tit music, cleaved music, cleavage music, moron music and maraca music and mustache music, vulgar music, vulva music and velvet music, but roxy music is better than all of them combined.
#689: roxy music - remake/remodel (live, 1972)
the only important things to remember about the 1970s were brian eno’s vests, bryan ferry’s mustaches, phil manzanera’s spectacles, and andy mackay’s oboe solos, plus, depending on your perspective and surname, my dad’s hair.
speaking of brian eno, did you know that pennie smith photographed him snapping pictures of a brazilian model—and a house cat!—for a cartoon strip in 1973? it was called eros with eno, and it’s the type of thing that should really be in the funny pages every single sunday. ms. smith, by the way, is the lady who took the photograph of paul simonon’s about-to-be-smashed bass guitar that’s on the cover of london calling. i had a poster of it in my dorm senior year, although it’s only the clash’s second best album cover.
#682: james - laid (1993)
is there any fine chunk of 20th century popular music that brian eno didn’t have a direct hand in? i don’t know too much about the british pop band james, except that they have a pretty lousy name and made pretty excellent music that was halfway between the smiths and pulp, but i’ve liked laid since i saw it on mtv as at age 8 and wasn’t entirely sure what it was about. and i like it even more now that i know brian eno produced it. he could have rested after that one 1972 roxy music show on the bbc with the leopard print and gold gloves, but then he produced david bowie’s best non-ziggy albums, sold some records for u2, made some orchestral manoeuvres in the dark, and recorded one of the world’s best trilogies with talking heads, though that’s leaving out things like his tectonic mid-70s island rock albums (especially another green world), or, you know, the fact that he invented ambient music.
but none of those triumphs feature the line “this bed is on fire with passionate love.” good job, james.
#660: coldplay - yellow (2000)
did you know that coldplay’s debut recently turned ten? time flies. i very clearly remember hearing parachutes for the first time, in the mamaroneck hockey rink’s administrative office, which for some reason was where you would go to work safe rides. my really good friend, who was british, popular, a real mamaroneck high school lady killer, and also secretly gay, which i knew because he’d told me and one other person, played me the best song on a really pretty cd he’d burned from his brother on the ice-rink boombox. and with all due respect to coldplay, whose members now get to hang with out with brian eno in expensive manhattan condominium units while atrociously named children fiddle around, nothing they ever do will ever be as good as that evening’s yellow. sorry to get all ice stormy, but it’s true.
#601: willie nelson, emmylou harris, and daniel lanois - the maker (1998)
after daniel lanois was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident this week, he called up a pal and said calmly, “look, i got a lot of broken bones.” god bless that man. for me, what makes the music daniel lanois produces so special is that it’s sooty, smoky, crunched and chewed, and yet every note is perfect and clean. it’s easy to light songs on fire, but not easy to make them smell like charcoal, which is what he does on bob dylan’s time out of mind, brian eno’s apollo atmospheres & soundtracks, u2’s joshua tree, emmylou harris’ wrecking ball (her best album, if you ask me), and willie nelson’s teatro, which the above is from.
besides producing, he also happens to have written songs that are as good as anything those bands have done. the maker is one of them! it’s a religious song that’s heavenly because it’s black and blue. speaking of angels, wim wenders directed the video, and this one, too.
the reason that john cale’s 1974 album fear sounds like jumpsuits, fistfights at the lions club, ex-wives, fish, lou reed’s aftershave, coal mines in wales, patti smith’s perspiration, police station basements and 23rd street at nighttime is that it is really, really good. his holiness richard thompson from fairport convention plays guitar, and so does phil manzanera, whose roxy music companion sir brian eno is credited as playing “eno.” and the backup singing on thigh-slapper the man who couldn’t afford to orgy is credited to certain girls named “i & d chantler and l strike,” about whom very little seems to be known. but to be fair, vintage violence is almost as perfect for a late-winter sunday afternoon, and so is looking at pictures of john cale.
#507: u2 - i still haven’t found what i’m looking for (1987)
there are only two standouts in the short and indecorous history of dance circles in non-rap music videos: spike jonze and the torrance community group in fatboy slim’s praise you (a torrence public film production) and u2’s nevada-based i still haven’t found what i’m looking for, in which bono does some impressive jigs, twirls, and pre-pulp fiction twisting while the edge looks genuinely unamused.
#503: orchestral manoeuvres in the dark - genetic engineering (1983)
surely if radiohead made the best album of the 1990s and the best album of the 2000s (ok computer and kid a) then radiohead’s probably going to make the best album of the 2010s. and i predict, based on a close study of the victorian fin de siecle, brian eno’s oblique strategies, rhett davies’ discography, the genealogical history of the greenwood brothers, and phrenological curvature of phil selway’s skull, that it will sound like the more danceable songs on orchestral manoeuvres in the dark’s underrated album dazzle ships. it’s available here—see for yourself.
you’re making a terribly grave error if on this damp and cold december sunday you’re not listening to brian eno’s first four ambient albums, especially on land. a sad winter weekend afternoon without them is like a happy summer evening without roxy music.
#15: roxy music - ladytron (1972)
62-year-old bryan ferry now dates a 27-year-old dancer, which means she’s currently exactly the same age mr. ferry was during this performance (from the same top of the pops show as below). very sexy.
i love when he closes his eyes to croon. and has a high-collared oboe solo ever looked better? and can the guitarist see out of his glasses? and isn’t brian eno’s gold-gloved knob-twiddling thrilling? he looks like he’s piloting a private glam jet through the sunny glam skies.
#14: roxy music - virginia plain (1972)
in 1972, bryan ferry got behind a microphone on top of the pops wearing a sparkly sequented blouse, backed by brian eno in leopard print and gold gloves. just like that, glam became cool.
and then 49 seconds into roxy music’s debut, the band thwacks to a halt. “baby jane’s in acapulco,” mr. ferry squeeks, “and we are flying down to rio.” (be sure to catch the little jazz-hand wiggle there.) that would be the hippest line in roxy music history, if it weren’t for: “midnight blue casino floors/ dance the cha-cha through till sunrise/ open up exclusive doors. oh wow!”
and did you know the critic robert christgau once called brian eno “a balding, long-haired eunuch lookalike”? i like when he looks up here and smiles at the saxophone/oboe player in the green alien suit. it’s so touching.
