From the Library #3: Harry Nilsson - The Point!

Harry Nilsson
The Point!
1971 RCA Victor

My travels to the library are good for my music collection in a few ways. The first, obviously, is that I’m adding to it, checking out albums that are either missing from my collection or albums I’ve been meaning to take a listen to. In the first and second “From the Library” columns, I discussed records by two of my favorite artists that had somehow slipped through my anal-retentive, perennially accumulating grasp. But the library is also good for stockpiling music; creating a nearly never ending current of new, good music that I can turn to. Some of it I’m completely unfamiliar with, like the subject of today’s “From the Library” column, Harry Nilsson. I vacillated between writing about Nilsson and another famed singer/songwriter, Tom Waits, both of whom I’ve never listened to and know nothing about. I’ve heard tremendous things about both, but Nilsson’s album The Point! is a new checkout from this past week, and being fresh in my mind, it won out.

A cursory glance at Wikipedia (which also provides many of the album facts in this and the following paragraph) tells me that The Point! is a children’s tale about a boy named Oblio. Oblio lives in a mythical place called the Pointed Village, where according to law everything must have a point, including its residents. Oblio has a round head, and this causes some problems for him and lessons are learned. Nilsson apparently said of the how he came to this idea, “I was on acid and I looked at the trees and I realized they all came to points, and the little branches came to points, and the houses came to a point. I thought, ‘Oh! Everything has a point, and if it doesn’t, then there’s a point to it.’” This whole project may sound like the delusions of a drug fueled madman, but I’ve heard dumber ideas for a concept album before.

An animated film of the same name was released in 1971, airing on ABC. Dustin Hoffman originally voiced the narrator, who was also the father of Oblio in the story. Mike Lookinland (Bobby Brady) performed the voice of Oblio. Later versions had to be released due to legal issues, with both Ringo Starr and Alan Thicke voicing the narrator in subsequent editions. There was even a 1975 live musical based on The Point!, with lead roles in the London production being performed by two members of the Monkees. Sadly, on the album version, Nilsson handles narration duties.

As someone who has never listened to Harry Nilsson, he showcases a very distinct Beatles sound throughout The Point! He had been a close friend to members of the Beatles, particularly John Lennon, and Nilsson’s succinct craftsmanship owes them a debt of gratitude. The album features a number of songs tied together by one to two minute long narrative tracks, where Nilsson tells Oblio’s tale and tries to give the listener a sense of what these songs are about. It doesn’t always work. Though the music is always pleasant, the story goes wayward several times. After Oblio is kicked out of the Pointed Village for being a roundhead, the following songs are about bodies decomposing in the sea and about how Thursdays are the craziest days of the week. Maybe it’s designed for kids and they eat this shit up, I’m not sure. But it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me even in the context of the simple storyline.

The music is always good but never attention getting. Third track “Me and My Arrow”, middle-of-the-record cuts “Think About Your Troubles” and “Thursday (Why I Did Not Go to Work Today), and penultimate track “Are You Sleeping?” are all quite charming 70s pop songs but really don’t radiate well and they sound dated. The album does succeed in creating a dreamlike and cheerfully otherworldly atmosphere, however, suitable for the fantastical subject matter of the record and the fantastical state of mind Nilsson was in when he came up with these ideas. The Point! comes off as a second-rate cross between Dr. Seuss and Sesame Street, but it does efficiently mimic enough of their elements to create an enjoyable experience.

Though The Point! doesn’t fit together very well, there is a real sense of adventure on this record. The subject matter obviously contributes, but these songs, while somewhat flat, are playful, whimsical, and charming. As a unit, The Point! works to at least create a fun and unique atmosphere unlike much else I’ve seen in pop.

C+

John Lacey

Commercially Viable - Golden Corral

I really don’t like television advertisements. I find them all to be some degree of insulting or annoying. They continually act as a barrier, preventing me from watching the program I’m trying to watch. I’ve never understood the anticipation of the new Super Bowl ads; they’re fucking commercials! We don’t like them every other day of the year. Why do we pretend to care about the newest talking dog Bud Light commercial?

In the best of cases, commercials are white noise. They pass without incident and without fanfare. But in the worst of cases, a television ad is an affront to me personally as a consumer or even a person. “Commercially Viable” will discuss those commercials that make you lunge for the remote whenever they appear, or cause you to talk to yourself about just how stupid that commercial is.

Our first entry is a 2010 (I think) Golden Corral ad. Golden Corral is a chain of Applebee’s-esque casual dining restaurants found throughout the United States. Judging by the Golden Corral website store locator, Golden Corral seems to be most prevalent around the southeastern seaboard, with a large number of locations in North Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. Thankfully there’s only one location here in Massachusetts, located in the western city of Springfield, a city I don’t envision wanting or having to go to again.

This is only a thirty-second spot (there may have been a longer one originally that was cut to this length), but boy, does it pack in the shitty. We open with some fat jerk, his “just pretty enough for a commercial” wife and his two middle-school aged children standing at a microphone. The premise of the ad is that the man and his family want a lot of good food with all the fixin’s, and they’re whittling down all of the available choices by asking a series of inane questions to a group of people who represent different restaurants. Think of it as a gluttonous, high-cholesterol version of “Guess Who?” If the restaurant doesn’t have what they’re looking for, POOF! They fall through a trap door, and the fat guy and his wife continue to ask their rib-related questions to the others.

The father in the commercial states, “We’re in the mood for baby back ribs for dinner tonight. Who’s got ‘em?” Is this normal? All four members of a family want the same thing, and beyond that, they all want to eat ribs? I can see the fatso father wanting ribs, but the dainty and skinny wife? The twelve year old girl? They want ribs too?

After eliminating some of the self-respecting franchises who know their limitations and don’t try and pull off fifth-rate ribs, moron throws out this gem: “And we’re hungry, so it’s gotta be all you can eat.” All you can eat? First of all, the father in the ad definitely shouldn’t be eating all-you-can-eat anything, except maybe grass. He’s visibly overweight and would probably be a heart attack risk if he actually tried to gorge himself at Golden Corral’s all-you-can-eat rib buffet extravaganza.

But secondly, who the fuck is so ridiculous as to require unlimited food for their dinner? Really? The normal serving of ribs just can’t possibly satiate you? I really don’t think there is anyone, even the fattest people in this country, who legitimately think like this. There is no one thinking, “For dinner tonight, I want ribs. But I don’t want to worry about portions or anything. What I’d like for dinner is all of the ribs I can possibly eat.”

Never mind that even a normal plate of ribs would probably be too much for the wife and the two small children. They need all-you-can-eat ribs too, apparently, because now mom chimes in. You see, they don’t just want ribs, and they don’t just want the all-you-can-eat variety. They want them as part of an endless buffet (which I imagine includes an assortment of microwaved vegetables and other meats), and they want them for ten dollars.

Ahem.

If you’re the kind of person who actually thinks, “I’d like all-you-can-eat ribs for dinner tonight”, are you really going to pull punches when it comes to cost? I like to imagine this family rib shopping, calling every restaurant within fifty miles asking about rib availability and pricing. Dad hits the jackpot: “Honey, Longhorn Steakhouse has a rib buffet!” But mom, ever the wet blanket, responds, “Is it around $10? Remember, we’re on a budget.” Then dad solemnly hangs up the phone, cursing Longhorn Steakhouse and its $15 rib festival, and reopens the phonebook.

Our discussion of this commercial wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the wormy Golden Corral spokesman, who smugly drops his dumbass catchphrase (“Thanks for dropping by”) in his stupid Alan Seuss voice when the family finds that their idiotic cuisine requirements can be met by his restaurant. I don’t have anything witty to say here, except that his catchphrase, his stupid face, and the way he raises his eyebrows make me hate this commercial about fifty thousand times more.

We go through a little spiel about what the offer actually is, come on down to Golden Corral, blah blah bullshit bullshit. Thankfully, we get one more scene of the family wolfing down this swill, providing the dad an opportunity to channel Jay Leno with his incredulous “Ten bucks??? Glad we dropped by! (hahaha)” pseudo-joke.

This commercial is the perfect storm. It’s like being on the Hindenburg, except that you also have yellow fever. The family is awful. The food looks awful. The wormy guy is awful. The premise is absolutely god-awful. And since Golden Corral seems to be the official sponsor of MLB Network, and they have now produced several of these types of commercials, the idea of having to see them multiple times a day is frightening.

John Lacey

The Random Ten #22

#1) String Cheese Incident – “San Jose” - On The Road: Atlanta, GA 4/21/02 (2002; this is a live album, the song originally appeared on A String Cheese Incident [1997])

Count me as someone who really likes songs named after places. “San Jose” appears on the second String Cheese Incident record and is here presented from an April 2002 concert.

I wrote two Random Ten’s ago that I’m always happy to see String Cheese Incident show up on a Random Ten. “San Jose” ensures that this sentiment remains true. A lot of String Cheese Incident songs sound exactly the same, and “San Jose” sounds an awful lot like nearly every other song I’ve ever heard from this band. I’m not going to call String Cheese Incident one of my favorite groups, but that similar sound is always effective and pleasant, and in small doses it can be borderline euphoric.

“San Jose” runs nearly ten minutes, and contains a nice repeating piece where the music stops entirely to allow the audience to yell “Woo!” in unison. String Cheese Incident is good at changing up their winning but redundant formula just enough so that their songs have some new hook or something just different enough to make you care. They aren’t musical geniuses, but it’s fun, so who gives a shit?

#2) String Cheese Incident – “Texas” – Born On The Wrong Planet (1997)

Uh, OK. Hey, it’s another String Cheese Incident song! And it’s also named after a place! And guess how long it is?!?

I just blew my String Cheese bead, so I don’t have a lot of interesting things to say about them right now. I will say “Texas” is a more engaging song than “San Jose”, taking a more subdued tone and telling more of a story. It benefits from being a tad darker, but String Cheese Incident doesn’t fully commit to that direction, leading to a bizarre and disharmonic chorus which begins on a dark note and ends on a lighter one. A Spanish sounding jam basically closes out “Texas”, fitting rather awkwardly with what came before. It’s not great, but “Texas” does see String Cheese Incident trying to expand their sound, and it’s hard to fault them for that.

#3) Red House Painters – “Mistress (Piano Version)” – Red House Painters (Rollercoaster) (1993)

Red House Painters was the original band of singer/songwriter Mark Kozelek, now touring and releasing records under his own name and the Sun Kil Moon moniker. I’ve gushed on this blog over Sun Kil Moon and Kozelek’s work in general, and I’m sure you can find some of those articles on the blog history to the right. The gist of it: I think he’s fucking awesome.

But he ain’t for the faint of heart. Kozelek is morose, endlessly sentimental and regretful, and his music reflects that. His attitudes help make his music so good, but it’s certainly not for everyone, and probably should be listened to alone if only so others don’t think you’re a psychopath or (if male) hopelessly effeminate.

“Mistress” is included elsewhere on Red House Painters as a rock number (hence this different “piano version”) and here Kozelek slows everything down. His piano is the only instrument on the track, and during the chorus it builds on itself and provides a faint tease that it might take off. Wisely, it doesn’t, and what we’re left with is a triumph on an album full of them.

#4) Oasis – “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” – Heathen Chemistry (2002)

Out of twenty-two Random Tens, Oasis has appeared on five. I feel like they’ve been showing in every recent column. If we’re applying Musicarium sabremetrics, Oasis is appearing at a 23% clip, causing me to curse myself for taking all of their albums from a friend’s hard drive for free years ago.

I’ve written so much about them that there’s not a lot more to say. Big, dumb rock band, usually sound good, etc. So instead of rehashing that, I’ll write about how lame “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” is. Adding strings does not add emotional gravity to your music. This sounds like a retread of the warmed over stuff they were doing two years prior on Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants. The chorus is mind-numbingly cheesy and the whole exercise has the unmistakable top 40 musk of Matchbox 20 all over it. Crappy, crappy, crappy. Of course, because this is Oasis, the song has to be at least five minutes long.

#5) Modest Mouse – “What People Are Made Of” – The Moon & Antarctica (2000)

“What People Are Made Of” is the final track on perhaps the finest Modest Mouse album of all. It’s a perfect closer, at times abrupt, chaotic, deliberate, even delicate, taking the varied components of the record itself and encapsulating them into one final song.

I’ve always admired Modest Mouse’s raw yet processed power. Modest Mouse songs like this one and like countless others seem on the surface to be completely out of control, but there is order and structure. There are hooks, strong choruses, movements that make sense for a band writing thoughtful but traditional rock music. This might be hard to hear within their oft-maniacal music, and “What People Are Made Of” is a good place to listen for it.

#6) The Black Crowes – “Jam #2” – The Band Sessions (1997; not an official release)

“The Band Sessions” were studio recordings from 1997 which were supposed to result in a new album. The band did release an album, By Your Side (1999), after cancelling the recording sessions for what was to become Band and scrapping what songs they had put together. Many of those songs ended up being released on the Lost Crowes compilation album (2006), which rounded up a number of those lost songs and put them out officially.

You can probably guess that “Jam #2” never made it onto Lost Crowes. It’s a two minute and forty-five second jam, most likely unrehearsed and created on the spot. I don’t really see the need to listen to this again.

#7) The Smashing Pumpkins – “1979” – Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness (1995)

Ahh, Christmas 1995. I got a boom box and my first CD’s, among them Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness. The others? A Boy Named Goo, some shitty Edwin McCain album, Sixteen Stone, and I think the first Silverchair record.

I remember “1979” hadn’t been released as a single by that time, so I listened to lead single “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” thirty times in a row. For a twelve year old, Mellon Collie was a daunting task, boasting twenty-eight songs split over two discs. I poked around, not caring for much else that I found because I would only give each song three seconds to grab me. But I did find “1979”, and when it broke big, it was “my song” the one I found and appreciated before anyone else.

It’s still a great song, sixteen years later. I have a difficult time divorcing the song from the video (you know, the one with all of the kids making out and going to parties and jumping into a pool or something). The song worked great with that video, which was about teenagers being teenagers and doing teenage things. Even though the record was released four or five years before I reached my partying teenage years, I now listen to the song and picture myself, as a teenager, in that video. Talk about staying power.

#8) Drive-By Truckers – “Zip City” – A Southern Rock Opera (2001)

One of the best songs by one of the best bands on earth. “Zip City” is narrated by a Southern teenage boy, who relays the story of his courtship of a younger girl and wondering why he wastes his time. The song is absolutely punishing in its delivery, managing to be both catchy and bleak at the same time, the perfect tone for its subject matter.

The real wonder of “Zip City” is in its lyrics, when the narrator tells the girl exactly what he feels towards her (pardon the formatting, this website is awful and I'm actively looking for a new one):

Maybe it’s the twenty six mile drive From Zip City to Colbert Heights

That keeps my mind clean, Gets me through the night

Maybe you’re just a destination, A place for me to go,

That keeps me from having to deal With my seventeen year old mind all alone

So keep your drawers on girl, It ain’t worth the fight

By the time you drop them I’ll be gone And you’ll be right where they fall the rest of your life

Singer/guitarist Mike Cooley turns in the finest performance of his career on “Zip City”, with his whirling guitar solos adding weight to every word. It’s a must-hear.

#9) moe. – “Buster” – No Doy (1996)

Yeah. Going from “Zip City” to “Buster” is like going from an Aston-Martin to a Geo Tracker. Though I’m predisposed to be upset at moe. and “Buster” because they are following “Zip City”, I’ll do my best to be impartial.

moe., as a jam band, certainly shares some traits with the twice aforementioned String Cheese Incident. “Buster” is a light and airy song akin to String Cheese’s “San Jose” that we heard earlier. I’d consider moe. to be a more interesting group than String Cheese Incident, because they’re less tentative to experiment with shifts in their tone and are willing to try new things. Their follow up to No Doy, 1998’s Tin Cans And Car Tires, shows moe. travelling as far across the musical spectrum as the confines of being a jam band will allow them to, yet they retain the same signature sound they had developed for themselves previous to that release.

One thing I’ve often wondered is why jam bands release studio records at all. “Buster” sounds alright, and it might bring the house down live, but in the context of a record it’s a tedious bore. Jam bands have released strong, cohesive records (see Phish: Farmhouse, Billy Breathes) and also putrid, not-so-cohesive records (see Phish: Joy, Undermind). But I’d rather a band try something new, even to see it fail, than release an immediately superfluous album. If No Doy’s version of “Buster” is more polished but less engaging and ultimately less fun than a live version, why do I need this?

#10) Sonic Youth – “Eric’s Trip” – Daydream Nation (originally released 1988; this is a live version of the song released on the deluxe reissue of the album in 2007)

I’ve heard Sonic Youth is really good from a whole lot of people. I don’t know this firsthand because for some reason I’ve never bothered to listen to them. Every other time I’ve given a good listen to a heavily influential indie rock band, from Pavement to Dinosaur Jr. to Guided By Voices, I’ve ended up liking them, so I’d imagine this would be no different.

I don’t know if this live version of “Eric’s Trip”, recorded in Dusseldorf in 1989, is the place to start. It’s very sloppy and noisy, and though I imagine that’s part of Sonic Youth’s charm, it’s hard to get a good handle on them in this environment. I appreciate a blistering three-minute romp as much as anyone, however, and I admire the energy and primitive hooks evident in this performance. There’s definitely enough here to warrant further inspection.

John Lacey