Category Archives: Tuneage

From the Vault

From the Vault: Lung Leg

One of my Christmas presents to myself was the acquisition of a new USB turntable. I haven’t had a record player in several years, and I missed it terribly. Yes, I am one of those snobs who thinks vinyl sounds better than other formats. I have no problem listening to CDs or MP3s, but every now and again, I enjoy hearing music played in this format. I don’t think it’s old fashioned so much as decadent, an indulgent treat like sipping a 12-year-old scotch.

Other than aesthetics and my own pretentiousness, the reason I wanted a record player again was to hear some stuff that I only have on vinyl and which has never been released in other formats. So within minutes of popping it out of the box and setting it up, the very first thing I listened to was “Krayola,” Lung Leg’s portion of a split 7″ from 1998. I remembered adoring this song, and the passage of time didn’t diminish that love at all.

Lung Leg–a quartet of Scottish lasses–made their only American tour around this time as the opening act for The Make-Up. It must have been the only Make-Up tours I didn’t see, because I definitely never saw Lung Leg, and I have a uselessly encyclopedic memory for Bands I Saw and What Bands Opened For Them. I used to catch the Make-Up live at every conceivable opportunity, both because they were an amazing live band and to atone for being to young to ever see Nation of Ulysses live. I also purchased all of their singles, of which there were roughly eight billion (all later collected on I Want Some).

The two bands collaborated on a split 7″ around the time of their tour together. The Make-Up’s side (“Pow to the People”) was quality, of course, but the Lung Leg portion blew me away. The driving beat and insistent guitars, contrasted with vocals that are almost whispered, the killer fadeout that leaves you wanting more…perfect in every way.

Since I loved this song so much, I went out and bought the only other Lung Leg release available at the time, Hello Sir, a collection of two early EPs. I was profoundly disappointed, because it was nothing like “Krayola” in style or substance. It sounded somewhere equidistant from Beat Happening and Shonen Knife. At the time, I found it angular, silly, and amateurish. After one listen, I tucked it away in my record collection, where it stayed untouched for well over a decade.

Listening to that compilation again after all these years, my opinion has softened considerably. The songs are quite enjoyable for what they are; I was mostly mad because of what I expected them to be. I also recently acquired Lung Leg’s only LP, Maid to Minx, and found it eminently listenable. The production is considerably better than that of the EPs, and there are a few glimpses of what I liked so much about “Krayola,” particularly the title track.

Nothing quite measured up to “Krayola,” however, which I suppose is ultimately unfair. If you can manage one masterpiece, that’s one more than most us get in our lifetimes.

Note: I suspect this version I’ve digitized may be running a tiny bit fast. So, you know, caveat emptor and all that.

[audio:http://66.147.244.95/~scratci7/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/Krayola1.mp3|titles=Lung Leg, “Krayola,” Pow to the People split 7″]

Download “Krayola” here

Pointless Nostalgia, Tuneage

The Past of the Future!

I recently wrote a post about my days in a band, one that focused on the unfortunate aspects of the experience. However, those days were not all bad. In fact, they were almost all great, some of the greatest times of pure, stupid joy I’ve ever had. Rare are the moments that I am able to shut off my brain and just have fun, and many of them happened when I was in this band, or rocking out to friends’ bands, or just hanging out with them and being colossally dumb.

That’s why I’m pleased that someone has seen fit to chronicle this scene on its own Facebook page, Save the OCNY Music (OCNY = Orange County, New York). If you were around there/then, it has lots of photos from the time (some of me, like this bizarre picture of yours truly in a West Point cadet’s jacket; you’ve been warned) and some music clips that will cause a Proustian rush of memories. If none of this is familiar to you, you may still enjoy checking it out. I know I always like to see photos of a scene gone by, something made by and for kids that they loved madly.

You can also check out an ever expanding archive of music from said bands right here. My band’s first demo can be found there, as can the first demo from Life Detecting Coffins, which I cannot recommend too highly.

I am very happy someone is saving this stuff for posterity. Enjoy.

Tuneage

Low Times Kicks Into High Gear

There was a time when music was the be all and end all of my existence. Listening to it, playing it (see to your left), writing it, going to watch others play it. All of this consumed an enormous amount of my free time and mental energy.

Then I developed a condition called Being Old, and it faded from the front of my passions. In a way, I blame how easy music has become for The Fan. In the pre-internet age (get off my lawn), the pursuit of new music–finding out about bands, shows, scenes, etc.–required so much more perseverance and shoe leather. Albums were artifacts, not to be chopped up into playlists, but to be listened to as a whole, as documents. I’m one of those weird people who enjoys working to discover things. Coincidentally or not, my aggressive hunting of music began to wane when the web and iTunes removed an element of labor from the hunt.

I soon found myself listening to actual music less and less, and not pursuing New Stuff with my former intensity. When I listened to my iPod on my way to work, I tended to listen to podcasts, mostly of the comedy variety, with old Jean Shepherd shows thrown in. I’m not exactly sure why, but at this time, I just preferred words.

Over the last few years, I’ve been making a conscious effort to throw myself back into music. Listening to it at home, especially when I write. Keeping on top of New Stuff in my five minutes of free time. Making it out to shows when I can. (This last one is the roughest on my schedule and back; I can not stand up for hours like I used to.) It feels great to listen to an old song, or a new one, and remember how wonderful music can be.

That’s why I’m really excited about Low Times, the new podcast spearheaded by Tom Scharpling, Daniel Ralston, and Maggie Serota. If you read this site more than once, you surely know of my love for Tom’s radio program, The Best Show on WFMU. Since it started back in 2000, The Best Show has been beloved not just by comedy nerds, but also by music nerds, because it frequently delves into deep, dense detail of band lore and trivia. Tom is seemingly able to pull out album titles and band lineups for virtually any group off the top of his head. (For instance, recent shows feature a puppet named Vance who has an encyclopedic love of prog rock. Vance has some very strong opinions on Gentle Giant and Ummagumma-era Pink Floyd.)

You can’t know stuff like this and not have a deep love of music, and that love is now channeled into Low Times, which Tom describes both in the podcast and at the show’s website as a successor to a fanzine he did in pre-Best Show days, 18 Wheeler. The inaugural edition definitely has a fanzine feel to it, in the best sense: no frills and no snark, just people talking about music and the trials and tribulations of making it.

The first episode of Low Times features a great interview by Tom with Janet Weiss of Wild Flag/Sleater-Kinney fame, wherein she talks about her almost accidental path to rock stardom. You’ll also hear Daniel talk to Owen Ashworth, ex of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, about how he nearly got beat up all across Europe. (I recall seeing him play at a tiny bar in Greenpoint where the reception was not much better.) And Maggie talks to Catherine Popper about what it’s like hearing the Caddyshack theme played to you by Chevy Chase.

Hearing a trio of very different musicians talk about their craft is a fantastic refresher on why music is so amazing. Even if finding music these days is easier than ever, the act of making music and getting people to hear it remains an exhausting, sometimes gut wrenching process. I have friends who are musicians and producers and engineers (or some combo of the three), and I remain in awe of them, that in this day and age, all economic reality to the contrary, people are still writing and producing and going out on tour. Nowadays, most people willing to go through with all of this aren’t doing so for fame or money or chicks, but for art and love.

Low Times is a healthy reminder of this fact. Based on the list of upcoming guests, I’m looking forward to being reminded again and again in the weeks to come.