Showing posts with label Velvet Underground. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Velvet Underground. Show all posts

Sunday, October 25, 2026

Everything Is Everything: Tom Wilson and Pop Music in 1966 By Steven E. Jones (Stanford University Press, 2026)


This highly focused, yet wide-spanning book plays a vital role in the recent efforts to recognize Tom Wilson by amplifying his role at the vanguard of sound in the epochal year of 1966. During his lifetime, Wilson received only partial or peripheral attention, mostly from within the music industry. It has only been in the last two decades that Wilson and his legacy has begun to receive the belated acclaim he deserves. His life and top-tier jazz & pop production work are finally being chronicled, documented and discussed through a variety of media. Momentum has slowly built up around Tom Wilson and the seminal role he played in producing groundbreaking singles & albums by Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Frank Zappa, the Velvet Underground as well as the first releases from jazz giants Cecil Taylor, Donald Byrd and Sun Ra. Appreciation for what Wilson accomplished can be traced back to the Tom Wilson, Producer website established by Irwin Chusid in 2013. Significant ground has been gained this decade with the 11-part Invisible Icon: The Tom Wilson Story podcast that was produced in 2020-21 out of Wilson’s home town of Waco, Texas by Rogue Media. Still, it was not until 2025 that Wilson received the first book length treatment with the publication of Everybody's Head is Open to Sound – Writings on Tom Wilson. This French monograph, edited by Anaïs Ngbanzo with contributions by Ignacio Juliá and Richie Unterberger, is also notable as it contains the most comprehensive discography of Tom Wilson’s productions in existence. Matt Krefting’s research includes both albums and singles.




Everything Is Everything: Tom Wilson and Pop Music in 1966 by Steven E. Jones is now the second book devoted to Tom Wilson and comes at an opportune time and advances the scholarship on Wilson. Through Jones’ writing, he provides the opportunity for readers to consider Wilson’s 1966 work in fine detail as well as embarking into some mostly unexplored territory. While the book’s introduction sets the tone, there is not much debate on Steven E. Jones' assertion that Tom Wilson, the extraordinary producer with the ordinary name, was one of the foremost producers and musical trailblazers who broke barriers as a Black man in one of the monumental decades. With Wilson’s credentials already established by the aforementioned documentation projects, Jones’ book can then be assessed on a different level. Using the Wilson produced albums as a jumping off point, Jones combines history and commentary to make further connections and provides the reader with additional considerations. Jones gets under the hood of what is arguably pop music’s peak year, along with covering the exciting years leading in and out of the pinnacle of 1966. Wilson was certainly at the epicenter of a transformative era where musical breakthroughs can be heard on the singles & albums he produced from a wide-array of mainstream, avant-garde and unclassifiable acts, all who reflected Wilson’s adventurous approach to pop music. 



Suiting the Situation

The introduction also presents Wilson as a major architect of early folk-rock with his production work at Columbia Records for Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel. Wilson brought a jazz sophistication and versatility to pop-rock, which could be a reason he was so well respected at Columbia Records and MGM/Verve. In 1965, he made remarkable jumps from jazz and folk to becoming a folk-rock innovator. Wilson took what he learned in one context (jazz) as an A&R executive for United Artists and Savoy and applied it to an entirely new context (folk-rock).  His vanguard productions helped spark a sound that would be heard around the world and continues to endure.  For instance, Wilson restructured the flat “Sound of Silence” to a fully dimensional version with his overdubs employing ringing electric guitars bathed in echo and launched Simon & Garfunkel's career in the process.

Bob Dylan, Albert Grossman, Tom Wilson
Columbia Studio A on 799 Seventh Ave. New York
Photo of a photo from the Bob Dylan Center in Tulsa, OK

Writing under the position that history is “about conflicts and complications” (p. 26), Jones defends Wilson’s production on Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” against the panning by notable critic Greil Marcus. In his 2005 book Like a Rolling Stone: Bob Dylan at the Crossroads, Marcus rails against Wilson’s production of having “a harsh edge-the acrid tone that was everywhere in 1965, the sound of the time, if not the times.” Jones takes another view as he defends the enduring and intriguing sound achieved by Wilson:

 

“Around 1965, a good deal of pop in various genres did sound, if not necessarily "harsh” or "acrid,” a little metallic, sometimes even tinny. And it often involved a clean separation of instruments, as Marcus says, but these were also frequently mixed with echo and/or tremolo to produce a warbly, layered soundscape indebted to surf music, Phil Spector’s wall of sound, and numerous studio string sections as heard on records at the end of the monaural era.” (p.15)


Jones goes on to present Wilson as a conduit and catalyst who was able to work with a broad-spectrum of artists in 1966 including the Blues Project, Sun Ra, the Velvet Underground, Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention, Hugh Masekela and Eric Burdon & the Animals. In his A&R role for MGM/Verve, he was a man about town and in the Hollywood/Los Angeles clubs. In fact, Wilson signed the Mothers (of Invention) after hearing “Trouble Every Day” at the Whiskey a Go Go and produced their first two albums Freak Out! and Absolutely Free. He also played an integral role with the Velvet Underground, producing their first two albums along with Nico’s Chelsea Girl, her debut solo “baroque folk” outing. Jones often compares Wilson to Warhol, with their shared ability to introduce and incorporate avant-garde elements into mainstream productions as they worked from their respective “factories.” 

 
Tom Wilson, John Cale & Lou Reed

At the Helm One of the largest criticisms of Tom Wilson as a producer was his hands-off style. Vic Briggs, lead guitarist with the Animals, recalled Wilson being preoccupied with designing American football plays during studio sessions with the Animals in Richie Unterberger’s Do What You Fear Most: The History of The Velvet Underground. This laissez-faire approach most likely developed from Wilson's jazz years in the ‘50s running the independent label Transition Records. However, his light and deft touch in the studio, earned him respect amongst the musicians and allowed him the best chance to catch lighting in a bottle. Conversely, he also had the professional sense of awareness when he needed to intervene and keep the session on track as studio time in the ‘60s still had its strictures and union rules. The Wilson way also put musicians (e.g., Frank Zappa, John Cale of the Velvet Underground) into place to later produce and fly on their own. Wilson proved there are many conducive ways to be and define yourself as a producer in and out of the control room.

Each act or group that Wilson recorded in 1966 are given their own chapter, allowing Jones to go deeper into each album’s production along with incorporating contextual elements at play. This focus provides readers with overall big-picture historical perspectives, while illuminating the intricate layers of interconnections, which also influenced and shaped the resulting sounds. Utilizing the benefits of time and distance, Jones traces the stylistic and common denominators shared between the acerbic complexity found in the jazz of Sun Ra and the avant-pop-rock from Zappa. While some chapters do meander in some tangential directions in order for Jones to address some unresolvable and shopworn notions of authenticity and credibility, he does raise some interesting points. In his chapter on the Blues Project, he considers and compares their legacy to the Velvet Underground. The eclectic Blues Project actually had a larger profile during the time of their existence, while the Velvet Underground, as ahead-of-their-time proto-punks, have more listeners now with their towering influence on music and culture. Credibility was something a band achieved just by being in the same studio and sphere as Wilson. Jones’ treatment of the Blues Project also provides the impetus that their albums and singles should be listened to for their own merits as well as being Tom Wilson productions.

Wynton Kelly, Tom Wilson, Eddie Harris
Photo: Don Hunstein


Deepening and Expanding
The iconoclastic Wilson was also a walking dichotomy who, as a Lincoln-Republican, was both Harvard-educated (in economics) and street smart. He was able to achieve a sense of equilibrium and equanimity between the strong personalities and fragile egos that have an overwhelming presence in the music industry. Who else would be able to hold their own with such provocateurs as Dylan, Zappa and Reed?  On the larger world stage, Wilson worked and lived in the middle of a volatile era that quickly turned extreme and militant. It’s remarkable that he was able to shape such a variety of sounds at the major label level, but then again there was no one like Wilson who could fluidly move between jazz, folk and rock worlds as Wilson. The only comparable figure would be the much more well-known Quincy Jones. While “Q” went on to achieve household name recognition and acclaim as Michael Jackson’s producer among his many other achievements, Tom Wilson remains mostly known, respected and revered amongst the cognoscente. As a jazz and major label pop-rock producer, Wilson arguably went deeper than Quincy Jones. However, Wilson’s career was truncated as he died prematurely at age 47 from a heart attack brought on by Marfan syndrome in 1978. 


The Tom Wilson Organization The concluding chapter on the Monkees seemed tacked on or already existing in some form and in search of a publication home. This superfluous ending addresses issues of authenticity and artificiality, which are major themes of the book, however the fact remains that Tom Wilson had no involvement with the Monkees. Additionally, there is no need to defend the Monkees at this point-as they are now considered part of the grand narrative of ‘60s music. While Jones uses the chapter to assert some cogent points about the porousness between the mainstream and the underground at the time, he could have done it at previous points. Despite losing focus in the last chapter, it’s an overall compelling book and advances the documentation of Tom Wilson as more listeners find their way to “Tom Wilson Appreciation" society. Hopefully, others will expand upon his later ‘60s independent years where he worked with labels like ABC and Capitol and produced albums by Ill Wind and Harumi, which are considered psychedelic pop/rock classics by the genre specialists. His waning work years in ‘70s, when the entire music industry drastically changed, could also use further exploration. Lastly, the varied singles he produced including “Bend Me, Shape Me” by the Models presents an opportunity for further exploration. There are additional ongoing efforts to recognize Tom Wilson, including Marshall Crenshaw’s documentary which is still in the works.


While many readers might have wished for a more straight-ahead biography of the enigmatic producer, Jones succeeds on his own terms and accomplishes what he sets out to do in an holistic and interconnected way that Wilson himself would declare as “Everything is Everything.” Jones’ extensive research and written account furthers the cause for Tom Wilson by highlighting his versatility and the ability to set things in motion during a brief, shifting and exciting era when AM & FM, mono & stereo, singles & albums and subterranean and mainstream acts overlapped and flourished.



A version of this review will be submitted for possible publication in the spring 2027 (Volume 58, No.1) edition of the ARSC Journal. 

Saturday, August 01, 2026

Do What You Fear Most: The History of the Velvet Underground by Richie Unterberger


“I have like 3 huge Velvet Underground books. Do I really need another?” was the response of a musician friend when I told him about this epic 800 page book. “Definitely yes," was my reply because it’s from author and researcher Richie Unterberger. His books include 2002’s Turn! Turn! Turn!: The '60s Folk-Rock Revolution, White Light/White Heat: The Velvet Underground Day-By-Day from 2009 and The Unreleased Beatles: Music and Film, which won a 2007 Association for Recorded Sound Collections Award for Excellence in Historical Recorded Sound Research. With Do What You Fear Most: The History of The Velvet Underground, Unterberger presents the most exhaustive, comprehensive and definitive account of the Velvet Underground ever published.

Take Off Your Wraparound Shades
Unterberger's approach is to build up from the factual details to convey their seismic, searing and hypnotic sound along with their enigmatic and extremely layered history. This approach allows readers to step back to observe and appreciate how this unlikely combination of misfit musicians and contrasting personalities somehow coalesced to create some of the most groundbreaking rock ‘n’ roll music of the 20th century.  While providing the requisite coverage of founding members Lou Reed and John Cale, Unterberger equally recognizes the integral contributions of drummer Maureen Tucker, guitarist Sterling Morrison and multi-instrumentalist Doug Yule to make them a collective creative force. Extensive attention is also given to the Teutonic singer, model, actress Nico who hovers over the narrative like a spectral presence. Furthermore, Unterberger chronicles how the international, mixed-religion and mixed-gender musical aggregation crossed over to Andy Warhol’s Factory and the high art world during his peak Pop art years and became synonymous with the artist for more than 15 minutes. Unterberger skillfully balances the group’s two eras which yielded four official albums. Their first two albums were a riveting combination of Lou’s gritty literary style and "subway sound" guitar playing with John Cale’s avant-garde/classical background, allowing them to be the consummate ‘60s art-rock group that never proceeded in a predictable fashion. A transitional turn towards a more subdued and somewhat spiritual sound characterised their self-titled third album made after the versatile, yet much more conventional musician Doug Yule replaced John Cale. Still, their pivotal third album contains the surging “What Goes On” where the enthralling intertwined guitars take on the wonderful drone of what Lou Reed described as “1000 bagpipes.” They finished with Loaded, which was supposed to be loaded with "hits"-if one is to believe Lou Reed lore. Accordingly, Unterberger traces their trajectory from a band, when they were known as the Primitives and the Warlocks, who played for themselves to an act that played for Andy, Nico and the art world before arriving and finishing as a group who played for their audience.

L-R Nico, Andy Warhol, Maureen Tucker, Lou Reed, Sterling Morrison, John Cale 

The author’s research is as deep as it’s vast as he draws upon recordings, film, publications, as well as his own discoveries derived from his research at the Lou Reed Archives at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts in the Lincoln Center and Pittsburgh’s Andy Warhol Museum. He surveys their historical press coverage-ranging from from mostly dismissive and sometimes disparaging treatment they received as being part of Andy Warhol’s Exploding Plastic Inevitable (aka EPI or Andy’s traveling avant-garde multimedia happening) from the major metropolitan newspapers to the slightly more accepting critiques appearing in the college press. While Unterberger asserts that Warhol was instrumental in putting the group on the map, he also contends that VU began to outgrow Andy's spectacle and become an attraction in their own right.  Nonetheless, Warhol would prove to be a lasting influence on VU and on Lou Reed in particular as he remained Lou’s mentor who challenged and encouraged Lou to continually write and work.

The Modern Lover
Unterberger also incorporates quotes from contemporaneous interviews culled from obscure underground publications like Cleveland’s The Buddhist Third Class Junkmail Oracle and the influential Fusion based out of Boston as well as later interviews with band members that appeared in '80s fanzines like What Goes On.  One of his greatest strengths is his own interviews with those who were there and close to the band. Some of the most valuable commentary and insight comes from acolyte and musician Jonanthan Richman and Steve Nelson who managed the Boston Tea Party venue, where the band drew their largest following in Boston. Both offer lucid first-hand accounts of their live performances with Richman mentioning the group’s ongoing musical shapeshifting, versatility and range, and Nelson on their danceability. Unterberger is also inclusive of the essential audience perspective. Susan Pile, who went from a fan to working for Andy Warhol at the Factory during the late '60s, also provides acutely perceptive recollections throughout the book. Meanwhile, Tom Wishing, then a Notre Dame student from South Bend, shares a wonderful memory of meeting them after their show at the Quiet Knight in Chicago and reporting that they were not Andy’s menacing monsters, but were decent folk with even Lou being described as “friendly” and "humble.”

L-R: John Cale, Sterling Morrison, Lou Reed

Unterberger recognizes that the band’s striking contrasts are now a major reason for the group's large and lasting appeal, while their unclassifiability hindered them during their active years as their label, MGM, misguidedly promoted them. Both on stage and in the studio the group transversed from over-the-top onslaught to a rarefied understated minimalism.  Their sound was simultaneously commanding and charming, which is a rare combination then and now.  As attested by Richman and other observers, they were a formidable live act who knew how to build intensity and had remarkable command of contrasts and dynamics. Their varied arrangements and Lou’s improvisational lyrics from performance to performance gave them the opportunity to be brilliant and make each live show a new experience. For these reasons, Unterberger provides almost an equal amount of coverage to the live recordings (both official releases and bootlegs) as he does their four studio albums and two revelatory compilations of previously unissued material released by Polygram during the mid-80s. Further, he also examines John Cale’s and Nico’s solo albums from the era that reveal additional dimensions. His overall approach to their recordings meets the needs of both novices, experts and many in-between listeners. As expected, Unterberger includes the critical, underground and popular reception of their official albums in the wake of their release.  These reviews span from the then emerging wave of astute rock ‘n’ roll criticism like Crawdaddy and Vibrations that was just starting to percolate to blurbs in the music trade publications (Billboard & Cashbox) to even unexpected small-town newspaper outlets where their albums somehow reached and impacted the hinterlands. 

VU 1969 L-R: Doug Yule, Maureen Tucker, Lou Reed, Sterling Morrison

He also places the band in context of their times and interestingly considers them against two comparable music acts where antagonism ran both ways, even in the presence of some parallels and commonalities. Although not at all friendly with the Grateful Dead, both both bands partook in the practice of performing "lengthy improvisations on stage” and both were previously known as the Warlocks. VU and the Dead would also greatly benefit from being widely bootlegged with flourishing tape trading communities emerging in decades to come. Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention and the Velvet Underground were downright hostile to each other, but they shared the same label (MGM), producer (Tom Wilson) and bent towards the avant-garde.

There are a few aspects that could have been incorporated and a couple minor criticisms that did surface. One aspect I wished Unterberger covered was the Velvet Underground sharing a seemingly incongruous bill with Chicago (Transit Authority) at Hollywood’s Whisky A Go Go in October 1968.  However, odd pairings were somewhat the order of the day in the late ‘60s, Chicago (CTA) was considered a progressive jazz pop group at the time and the show is covered in his aforementioned White Light/White Heat: The Velvet Underground Day-By-Day book. In addition, the standard practice of endnotes would have served this book well and would have provided a resource for researchers. From time to time, Underberger does have the tendency to get a little too matter-of-fact and shouldn’t be afraid of bringing out his inner-Lester Bangs more often. As good as his granular details, Unterberger's writing gains momentum and takes flight when describing their music that spurs revisiting, relistening and reevaluation. For instance, Unterberger’s details regarding how the recording sessions for Loaded were loaded with problems are especially illuminating. He then proceeds to convey the essence of these mostly straight-ahead songs. Despite all the complications, the group arrives at their most accessible record with “fully rounded pop-rock harmonies” in their catalogue that acts as an entry point for new listeners as well as an enduring classic for long-time fans. Still, I have always appreciated that Unterberger keeps his writing music-centric and mostly objective in a world that is otherwise. If one wants more dirt and conjecture, there’s a towering stack of Lou Reed biographies readily available. Further, his chronological history is also not a hagiography, but an even-handed account on how they were on the vanguard of the ‘60s.  As a journalist who values and trades in actual fact, Unterberger manages to keep their mystique intact with his careful handling and passion for their music.

"We’re Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together"
L-R: Lou Reed, Maureen Tucker, Sterling Morrison, Doug Yule

Do What You Fear Most advances our understanding and admiration for what the group accomplished in the second-half of the ‘60s.  It’s never something current listeners should take for granted because so many of the stones have been unturned and their music catalogue is now readily available. The proto-punk group were so ahead of their 1964-1970 time, it has required decades for their sounds of extreme contrasts and everything in-between to find their multi-generational audience. Overall, Unterberger provides readers and listeners with an even deeper and greater appreciation of a daring and courageous group who made music both endearingly human and startlingly original. In the end, the Velvet Underground created their own musical waves that continue to move forward today.



A version of this review was submitted for possible publication in the fall 2026 (Volume 57, No.2) edition of the ARSC Journal. 

Saturday, June 27, 2026

Yea-Ming and the Rumours-Residue

Four albums into their consistent run, Yea-Ming & the Rumours have released their most provocative and pop-forward album yet with Residue. It's no secret that we all hear and experience music differently. It's all part of what makes the artistic world go round. We come to our favorite musicians and groups with certain expectations and on different levels of degrees. Whether it's a major stadium act adorned by millions by or a cult musician who seems tied down by work obligations, it's what keeps us anticipating new albums and searching the internet for show and/or tour announcements. Additionally, we have our preferred phases of our favorites and embrace their "return to form"-whatever subjective form that is.

Sidetracks

Stepping back from what makes listeners feel comfortable, allows musicians space for growth, development and surprise. Being multi-faceted, flexible, and versatile are still part of the criteria used to assess artists. While the Ramones perfected their formula early on and pretty much remained the same before eventually aging out, Blondie took a different trajectory. What if Blondie just stayed in their Lower East Side lane and never merged to bring seemingly disparate elements together for some of the most remarkable pop music of the 20th century? Both bands eventually became legendary, influential and iconic (i.e., t-shirts) which testifies we cannot make very valid or accurate assessments amidst the activity. Time and distance are required for comparison, contrast and reassessment.

Yea-Ming Chen, Photo by Corey Poluk

I came into Residue with an initial reaction regarding the denser production values and I left with the realization that Yea-Ming and the Rumours are making their own way, while striking a balance between the adventurism of Blondie and the straightforwardness of the Ramones. For instance, "Sweet Opiate," a slinky and shimmering dance pop song with a Cardigans/St. Etienne slant, makes clear sense in the context of a group diversifying their sound and expanding their range, while “Uncommon Dreaming” works for those who prefer them tapping into their innate strengths of twangy folk-rock-pop.
Things truly kicked in for me on "Waist" with its resonating line: “Oh, it’s been quite a year” and then a big smile broke over my face when I heard the dashing "Cold." It might be the best song of 2026! It reminded me of a Fastbacks number played by the Feelies! A joyous rush is felt in one vibrant sunburst of a song (albeit with stormy lyrics). Just as this punchy song gets up to full speed, it detours for one of the most charming organ solos ever.



“Cold” is also the transition point that sets the scene for the rest of the album. The second half of the record casts a melancholic, subtle and understated atmosphere, yet the songs retain an innate sense of catchiness and hope through the Darklands. Additionally, these finely-crafted songs are built with high structural integrity as this is arguably the most accomplished version of the Rumours. For instance, the sparkling and spiraling lap steel solo on “Uncommon Dreaming” could be Eóin Galvin’s finest recorded moment.  

 

The album takes on an additional hushed atmosphere a la Cindy on “Birds Fly Home.” Cyclical themes of personal & artistic authenticity contend with contradiction, compromise, the pull of the past, multiple standards and expectations as Yea-Ming musically pauses to gather her thoughts over the course of the second side. After this acknowledgement of cognitive dissonance, reconciliation and transformation can begin again with the human and humble admission of “Mistakes” made. This austere closer, featuring Yea-Ming’s ornate fingerpicking, also evokes Dear Nora’s moving cover of Dylan’s “Girl from the North County.”

As many young bands around the globe now emulate the ‘80s & ‘90s heyday of indie-pop and crash pop, Yea-Ming and the Rumours maintain their unmistakable, yet welcoming sounds. Operating from a perspective of possibility, Yea-Ming demonstrates the remarkable ability to further evolve and refine as she incorporates additional life experiences, lessons and musical approaches, while also retaining the youthful sense of wonder and undeniable melodies that attracted listeners in the first place. With Residue, Yea-Ming has taken another courageous turn and listeners can go along with her quest for understanding.  For me, it took a little longer this time around due to my own production preferences, but I’m thankful for the reckoning as there is really no other group out there like this in the world. 

L to R: Eóin Galvin: lead guitar, lap steel, Yea-Ming Chen: vocals, guitar, organ, Rob Good: bass
Luke Robbins: drums. Photo by Corey Poluk


Addendum, I added their cover of “Pale Blues Eyes” as a bonus track on the CD-R version I made following the path of the Feelies when they concluded Only Life with “What Goes On."

Friday, October 18, 2024

Falling Sugar-Self-titled

CD released by Fuzzy Pals Records (Japan)
LP by Bachelor Records (Austria)

Every once in a while you come across an album where everything falls in place. I first encountered Falling Sugar on a graphic for Mike Rogers' Japan Indies 2024 Music Awards and then heard them on the Todd-o-Phonic Todd WFMU radio show when he played “West Coast.” I'm guessing their band name is most likely inspired by the fantastic Beatlesque ‘60s pop Nugget “Falling Sugar” by the Palace Guard. The continued influence of the '60s looms large on their debut album. They even pay homage to that decade by briefly quoting sections of the Troggs’ “Can’t Control Myself,” and “She’s Got Everything” by the Kinks as points of departure into their own songs.


Falling Sugar are the co-headliners for Mike Rogers' final Japanese Indies Music Awards show

Off the Cuff
On their originals, they exude a ramshackle charm with their catchy combination of ‘60s pop and ‘90s indie-pop played with maximum joy. They shape an amalgamated and shambling sound that approaches and lands near the first-rate pop that the Apricots and Dizzy Joghurt whipped up 25 years ago along with Mama Guitar, the Pebbles, Berry, and Tirolean Tape. When they go more into bubblegum mode, they are found somewhere in the same aisle as the Cherry Splits and the Strawberry Zots.


Disk Union display-notice the Each Time by Eiichi Ohtaki promo in 
the southwest corner. 

Listen People Their self-titled album contains the excitement and exuberance expected in a strong debut. Overall, they achieve a rounded-out sound with propulsive percussive momentum, strummy guitar, prominent bass, and buoyant keyboards-in other words the active ingredients of bubblegum music. They strike upon this captivating sound with Mikko’s keyboard playing providing the requisite bounce that pairs up with her gliding voice that is well-suited for this type of music. Monma’s bold and pronounced bass brings in both mod-ish and Motown elements, while Toyozo Toyoshima’s apt (punch & strum) guitar playing and experience plays a major role in the band. When not with Falling Sugar, you can find him somewhere in the world playing in the Fadeaways, Angel Face, Paul Collins Beat-to name just a few of his many involvements. All the original songs are co-compositions by Toyozo and Mikko.

Falling Sugar: Clockwise L-R 
Mikko (Vocals, Organ), Monma (Bass), Toyozo (Guitar, Vocals) Ani-Pon (Drums)

Short, Sweet & Succinct 

“Sugar N Honey” brims with vocals reminiscent of the aforementioned Mama Guitar and a ringing Rickenbacker guitar comparable to the McCharmlys. “West Coast” leans in almost an anorak direction with its brisk melodies that would appeal to both Peach Kelli Pop and Pedal Records listeners. Be sure to catch that "Eight Days A Week" riff on the outro. The band is also stellar when they slow things down and incorporate a charming and chiming xylophone on songs like “Take Around” that recalls the best indie-pop featured by Shredding Radio/Magazine 25 years ago. By the way, “Take Around” seems to be a wonderful combination of “You, You, You” the 6th and “Leave all your Old Loves” by the Liverbirds, (later covered by the Shebrews). “Sigh” is overflowing with Herman’s Hermits/Merseybeat influences that will have SFTRI fans recalling the Stool Pigeons. Their rendition of “After Hours” fittingly closes. This Velvet Underground classic pop song was famously sung by Mo Tucker as Lou Reed said the song was too innocent and pure for him to sing himself.  They ace the cover by adding a dash of Death By Chocolate, which should not come as a surprise.


Bubbling Under

The quartet displays a deeper understanding that the roots of the bubblegum lie in the cubicles of the Brill Building as their record is immediate, catchy, tuneful and made to endure. While most of the late ‘60s American bubblegum groups were uniformly male, it’s refreshing to have females on the forefront, which has long been a major strength and characteristic of mold-breaking Japanese music. Falling Sugar excel with their originals and overall their debut captures the undeniable and vibrant spirit of the Tokyo garage scene, while putting a new spin on the most welcome sound of strummy Japanese bubblegum garage pop.


As a display of their adventurous approach, they have been known to play the Equals’ classic “Police on my Back” as part of their live sets.  I hope they give this song the studio treatment for a future release.

Monday, September 09, 2024

Toshi Bando's Productions: Kisetsu-Fu, Flap, Silver Lake


There are really no other equivalents to these three albums brought to the world by Toshi Bando. Perhaps some private press albums recorded in Japan (e.g., Enough, Deep End, Memorial Art, Actors & Pilotis) and maybe recordings by the somewhat popular Japanese band Woodpecker could be the closest comparison points. Surprisingly, all three albums are included in the Wonder Ground Record Guide -a Japanese reference work on Japanese private press records. What makes these albums sung in Japanese truly stand apart is that they were recorded by Japanese-Americans in Los Angeles during the late ‘70s, but with an overall out-of-time sound much closer to the ‘60s. 


While the music is front and center, their backstory still remains pretty much a complete mystery. The quest to know more of the historical context and what lies behind the curtains are certainly impelling factors. These vast unknowns may heighten the allure and intrigue, but by and large the reality is always different from the imagined with attendant stories that frequently exceed expectations. It would be an honor to present the perspectives of the participants, but I try to proceed with caution as I wish to respect people's privacy in this current distraction culture where privacy and solitude are given little to no consideration.  Sometimes the best (and only) approach may be to “Fly into the Mystery” like the great Modern Lovers song and just write your own perspectives in the larger and continual search for understanding.


Toshi Bando was the prime mover and unifying factor behind these three records under three different group names: Kisetsu-Fu, Flap and Silver Lake. Not only did he compose, play (guitar & blues harp), and sing on these albums, he also produced them as well. Each release featured rotating personnel and the musicians listed on Discogs apparently only ever appeared on these three albums. Meanwhile, I can only fathom which basements or garages in Monterey Park his bands practiced in. Maybe there were other rehearsal places in perhaps Alhambra or Eagle Rock that certainly shifted with the circumstances of the times and individual situations. On a similar note, I can only speculate where they played and what types of venues. Where were the performance stages in Monterey Park, San Gabriel, Little Tokyo or Gardena?  Was there any type of Japanese-American music circuit in the late ‘70s? Did they perhaps venture into Madame Wong's in old Chinatown and open for Japanese new wave bands like the Plastics (who did play at Madame Wong's as briefly spotted in this PBS Artbound documentary).  Many mysteries abound, but we can be certain that these once buried records can now be heard thanks to enthusiasts transferring their rare vinyl and uploading them to YouTube. The time has come to further explore the sounds of what could be best described as Transpacific folk-rock psych.


Flap: Drums-Toru Nishino, Bass Guitar-Steve Sera, Guitars & Vocals-Toshi Bando
Vocals-Kikuko Murakami

All three of Bando’s albums offer highly melodic original songs embodied with Japanese musical inflections and sensibilities. The music converges both Western and Eastern influences to express Bando’s singular vision along with a larger Nisei and Shōwa-era outlook. These most welcomed consistencies flow through all three of these albums that each have their own distinctive aspects. The common thread is these records sound way more ‘60s than the decade they were actually made in, while the music is refreshingly countervailing to the hegemonic arena rock that dominated America during the late ‘70s. To be more specific, Bando enhances his folk framework built upon the bedrock foundation of the Beatles with some well chosen ‘50s & ‘60s rock & pop and blues elements.



1977’s Kisetsu-Fu – Seasonal Wind=季節風 was released only four years after Yellow Pearl (which is considered one of the earliest Asian-American records along with Dakila’s 1972’s self-titled album released on Epic Records and sung in Tagalog). The illuminating record, with a stunning label design, is most indebted to the Beatles and their solo projects, while also reflecting attractive influences ranging from American golden oldies to Japanese campus folk and perhaps traces of Okinawan folk.



Seasonal Wind  was recorded & mixed at Dirk Dalton Recording Studio A, in Santa Monica. 土佐の海 (“Sea of Tosa”) is possibly referring to the Tosa Province of Shikoku, which is the smallest of the four main islands of Japan. The song is delivered in John Lennon/George Harrison fashion and augmented with a Dylan-esque harmonica. A downcast enka-like song tinged with the blues and flute follows under the apt title 悲しい顔は似合わない (“Sad Face”) and is moody in a good way. そこを行くのは (“Hey is that You?”) rocks out in that Beatles mode when they were trying to go back to basics with “Back in the USSR.”  Ken Miyoshi (who would later appear on the Silver Lake record) drives the saxophone before Toshi Bando soon merges on the musical freeway with harmonica playing that catches up to the saxophone-making this sound like a Fleshtones song.  雨が降る (“Rain”) provides more of that solo George Harrison sound filtered through a Japanese sensibility, while the minor keyed and impassioned plea of  福?草が咲いたら(“Pheasant's Eye”) recalls “Now or Never” from Approximately Infinite Universe by Yoko Ono.

Side two starts with yang energy. 君さえいれば (“As Long as You Are Here”) hits hard with its bluesy edges and evokes the Japanese GS (Group Sounds) bands when they started going heavy. Synthesizer and electric guitar player Yutaka Uda comes to the fore with some copious wah-wah.  春はもうすぐ (“Spring Will Come Soon”) is top-tier first-rate pop that takes off on a dash driven by a chanking rhythm guitar and Beatles-esque harmonica fills. Next, 秋は淋しい(“Lonely is the Autumn”) is a yearning campus folk number at its foundation, embellished with blues runs and topped with a lovely flute solo. There is a real Eiichi Ohtaki/Niagara slant to 砂に書いたイニシャル (“Initials Written in the Sand”)-a lovely ‘50s styled song complete with triplets that would sound perfect coming from Sony pocket transistor radio. The album closes with  誕生日 (“Birthday”) that has Bando channeling his inner-John Lennon and some subdued blues guitar playing before Ken Miyoshi adds the exclamation marks of xylophone and recorder. 


Flap (1978) is a much more succinct and spartan affair presented with a much clearer production. In fact, the fidelity soars above the somewhat submerged sounding Seasonal Wind. On an interesting sidetrack, Flap was recorded at Ascot Recording Studios in Hollywood by Jim Rayton, which was where Instant Orange also recorded two of their EPs with the same engineer. (Instant Orange were an exceptional yet unsung folk-rock band from San Bernardino, California, who were influenced by the Byrds and Love!) The studio appears to still be active today in Burbank with Jim Rayton remaining at the helm. The group had truly come into its own to offer a truly distinctive sound on Flap (TBP-02).



The biggest difference is the inclusion of female vocals with the arrival of Kikuko Murakami who brought in an entirely new dimension to their sound. Murakami’s lead vocals are like the sun shining through the marine layer on their poppier songs and also lend a dreamy quality and otherworldly feel on the slower building numbers. From the limited information I could gather, her previous singing experience was with the Alhambra High School choir. She transitions well to the pop-rock idiom and proves competent singing in a variety of styles. The album starts strong and only gets better with its mostly sunny, bright and catchy melodic songs. Murakami’s vocals grace the lovely “Summer Day” that blends well with the ‘50s percolating guitar. From this number, it does sound like Bando was definitely familiar with the legendary Eiichi Ohtaki and Niagara (f)all stars. Yoko Ono and her greatest album Approximately Infinite Universe are evoked once again in the song “Letter” with its stark arrangement and strident tone. “We Can’t Go Back” brings the fuzz in a way that deserves to be heard by musician, author and Japanophile Julian Cope. The instrumental innovations of Eleki, Takeshi Terauchi and the Ventures also figure into their guitar tones and sounds. “Blue Sky” is a lovely strummy instrumental that seems to draw from the hushed third Velvet Underground album emerging from the Shadows.

Arriving like the first brisk winds of autumn, “Red Umbrella” is probably their poppiest number and falls somewhere along the folk-pop parade as the We Five, the Seekers, the Red Birds. “Love Song” showcases Murakami’s vocals before giving way to a “Pale Blue Eyes”-like epic guitar solo that lingers on like the sun setting over the Pacific. Coincidentally the album ends with a spiraling song titled “Sunset.” It’s an epic closer that reflects the indelible impact of “House of the Rising Sun” with intertwined guitars that crunch, bend and sting. Flap is my favorite of Bando’s three albums for the arrival of Murakami, the austere production and spare, but sweeping folk-pop-rock songs. Overall, it’s an attractive display of Bando’s ultra-melodic sensibilities with the ‘50s pop & rock and early ‘60s folk and instrumental elements coming to the fore.


Silver Lake-Affection (TBP-03)
The first aspect that jumps out is one of the most striking and intriguing color covers ever. Could it be emblematic of the band feeling displaced and marginalized in the transient culture of Los Angeles? Appropriately, the album was recorded at 302 Recording Studio, in the Silver Lake area of Los Angeles from February to December 1979 and released in 1980. Interspersed are atmospheric sounds (e.g., crashing thunder to start the album, seagulls & surf, winter winds) lending a mysterious undercurrent that there may be a seasonal concept and/or a thematic statement on the cycles of life coursing throught the record. The songs alternate between male and female vocals that would later be employed on Double Fantasy. The musician line-up is reconfigured (except for the vocalists and the drumming & keyboard work of Ken Miyoshi, who also contributed to the Kisetsu Fu album). The songs are presented with an overall thickened and murkier sound (in comparison to the sparkling clear production of Flap) with the vocals for the most part engulfed and subsumed by the music. Overall, the album casts a more solemn and melancholy tone than the two previous albums. “Mou Hikitomerarenai” is a vehicle for Kikuko Murakami with fuzz runs that rival the biker instrumentals of Davie Allan & the Arrows or the aforementioned Takeshi Terauchi. Songs like “Shashin” (Picture) are delivered with overall blusier hues and smokier tones that seemingly indicate that the group had moved on from coffee cafes and Obon festivals to cabarets and nightclubs. Murakami’s smoldering vocals lean more towards blues rocking Maki Asakawa than poppy Seiko Matsuda, while demonstrating her adeptness with singing in a variety of styles. On one of their rare duets “Dakedo Emily,” Bando and Murakami achieve a stirring vocal blend that commands attention. “Aoi Kaze” is an acoustic driven number with baroque acoustical runs that seem inspired by “Classical Gas.”  The pronounced fuzz returns on the dashing “Owari Soshite” along with the appearance of trumpet. Jazzy chord changes, blues bends and heartfelt singing from Bando of “Kigatsukeba Itsumo Ashita” brings the album to a strong finish.  Message in a C.C. Lemon Bottle
With their deep ‘60s influences and somewhat mysterious origins, these records live up to their private press designation, current reputation and stratospheric prices. Fittingly, Toshi Bando remains an enigmatic figure who remains busy with his gardening. It is fortunate that the records can be easily accessed on YouTube, as now more people can hear them than ever before. Still, many questions abound that could help fill in gaps. I would love to hear first-person primary accounts and recollections from any of the participants to clear up some major blind spots on the history of the groups and gain an overall better understanding of the context of the times. Keeping the mystery intact does heighten the allure, intrigue and perhaps the prices of these three obscure records, which were limited to begin with in their initial press runs. 

Nonetheless, the music speaks for itself and close listening will reveal Bando’s attempts to reconcile and express both the melancholic and the glorious aspects of life as well as the chasms between. On a larger level, Bando was able to sonically connect the Far East with the Far West on these three groundbreaking records. The recordings do represent a significant achievement as Bando and the musicians helped usher in a new era of music for Los Angeles and Japanese-Americans. Whether Bando receives belated historical recognition is still to be determined, however he definitely made waves as these could even be considered the most remarkable Japanese-American records ever recorded between the mountains, freeways and the vast Pacific.