kleph
02-05-2006, 10:43 AM
Grow up in the American south and you spend a hell of a lot of time doing nothing at all. You spend a lot of your teenage Saturday nights hanging out on a railroad overpass wondering exactly how far the highway below runs out of town.
The first time I heard Big Star it was like a music force that rolled up all that horrible mass of hope, anxiety and teenage sexual frustration into one giant mass and then put guitars behind it all.
Big Star didn’t invent power pop but they created such a beautiful version of it that everyone that came after were obligated to follow in their footsteps. A legion of bands including Nirvana, R.E.M. and Wilco credited Big Star as a major influence. In fact, no less than The Replacements' Paul Westerberg once proclaimed, "I never travel very far/Without a little Big Star" in one of his songs.
http://forum.zgeek.com/gallery/files/2/0/1/bigstar1.jpgBig Star is an aberration, although they reach deep into the roots of blues, rock, pop and blue-eyed Memphis soul they are completely sui generis. Somehow the strange chemistry between the strong willed artists Alex Chilton and Chris Bell allowed this incandescent and horribly doomed band to happen.
In their short history, Big Star only released three albums and, in my estimation, only the first two matter - #1 Record and Radio City.
“They were fairly dark records wrapped in a pop package,” said drummer Joey Stephens years later. “Maybe that's what's made them enduring.”
But it probably was a lot more than that.
At the tender age of 16 Chilton became a rock star with his unique gravely voice pushing The Box Tops hit “The Letter” into Top 40 radio playlists across the country. But, after a few years the Box Tops broke up and Chilton packed up his guitars and headed back home to Memphis. Once there he hooked up with songwriter and guitarist Chris Bell who he had known since they were kids growing up. Bell had been playing gigs around the city for a few years and invited Chilton to join the band he had been playing with. It turned out to be a match made in indie heaven.
The two looked around at the growing bloat great bands like The Who were starting to display and they decided to go the other direction. They holed up in Ardent Studios in Memphis and – untroubled by record label or studio pressure due to Chilton’s star appeal – they went to work making what they thought music should be. They kept the four-part harmonies of the Beatles and the tight guitar arrangements of the Kinks and focused their efforts on creating great songs even if they did harbor a fetish for major 6ths.
“It was a time when we could stay up all night, with a sense of being into the music and trying new things,” recalled engineer Terry Manning. “Which if the truth be told was more like trying to copy the Beatles.”
The group named themselves Big Star after a supermarket that was across the street from the studio. It was meant to be ironic and, sadly, it turned out to be moreso than even they planned.
The first album, #1 Record , was released in 1972, is a showcase for Chilton and Bell’s formidable talents but it is clearly a group effort. Every song is marked by the powerful drive of Stephen's excellent drum work and the rock-solid foundation set by bassist Andy Hummel. Although Chilton and Bell shouldered the majority of the singing and songwriting duties, every member of the band contributed.
Radio City, in contrast, is much more of a Chilton led effort. Bell departed during recording due to differences with Chilton and had his name taken off the credits. The record reflects Chilton’s growing interest in blues rather than Bell’s devotion to Revolver-era Beatles. Even so, Bell's influence is clearly felt throughout the record.
There were later recordings and a controversial third album but the internal divisions of the band that began when Bell departed finally tore it completely apart. When Bell died in a car wreck in 1978 the possibility of replicating the magic of the first two album to a tragic end. What remained amid the wreckage were those two near-perfect albums that simply refuse to age. They are as musically fresh and powerful as when they were recorded more than three decades ago. There just ain't a bad song on either.
The songs ranged from the pop perfection of “When My Baby’s Beside Me” to the gritty rock of “Life is White.” Numerous of their songs, notably “September Gurls” and “In the Streets” have become cover staples. You listen to these records and have that thrilling sensation of tumbling freely into the cascade of music and you implicitly trust the song will find a way to catch your fall.
And then they’re a glorious few tunes that simply reside in a higher plane. Every time I hear the beautiful intertwined acoustic guitars in the haunted “Thirteen” I have to stop and listen to it completely. The simple lyrics simply break your heart set in such a delicately pristine setting.
My friend and fellow music connoisseur Mark once said this band is the ultimate example of a band too damn good to make it. Today only critics and music enthusiasts like myself know about these guys anymore. But these guys aren’t critic’s darlings because they are artistically important, they are critics darlings because they are just fucking good. In fact, I defy anyone who loves rock and roll to listen to these albums and not find at least one song they completely fall in love with.
There has been a bit of a renessance recently. There was a mid-90s reunion and another a few yeas back that has led to another release. A biography was recently released and a documentary is in the works. Perhaps the biggest boon to their reputaiton was when their song "In the Streets" was the theme to That 70's Show. Cheap Trick’s cover is suitably vanilla but clearly homage to the original. (They noticeably leave out the parts about stealing cars, smoking pot and breaking streetlights - all the things small town kids do to fight of the horrors of boredom.)
But, I don't worry about the future of Big Star. Their music is going to be around quite a long time to come. Not just because it is important, or critically acclaimed or even cool. Because, in the end, Big Star was about being a teenager, being fucked up and being bored off your ass. They wrote songs about their fears, their guilt and their anger. Most importantly, they wrote true songs with honesty.
And that's will remain a lifeline for fucked up teenagers everywhere.
This essay also appears on my website kleph.com (http://www.kleph.com/)
©2006 C.J. Schexnayder
The first time I heard Big Star it was like a music force that rolled up all that horrible mass of hope, anxiety and teenage sexual frustration into one giant mass and then put guitars behind it all.
Big Star didn’t invent power pop but they created such a beautiful version of it that everyone that came after were obligated to follow in their footsteps. A legion of bands including Nirvana, R.E.M. and Wilco credited Big Star as a major influence. In fact, no less than The Replacements' Paul Westerberg once proclaimed, "I never travel very far/Without a little Big Star" in one of his songs.
http://forum.zgeek.com/gallery/files/2/0/1/bigstar1.jpgBig Star is an aberration, although they reach deep into the roots of blues, rock, pop and blue-eyed Memphis soul they are completely sui generis. Somehow the strange chemistry between the strong willed artists Alex Chilton and Chris Bell allowed this incandescent and horribly doomed band to happen.
In their short history, Big Star only released three albums and, in my estimation, only the first two matter - #1 Record and Radio City.
“They were fairly dark records wrapped in a pop package,” said drummer Joey Stephens years later. “Maybe that's what's made them enduring.”
But it probably was a lot more than that.
At the tender age of 16 Chilton became a rock star with his unique gravely voice pushing The Box Tops hit “The Letter” into Top 40 radio playlists across the country. But, after a few years the Box Tops broke up and Chilton packed up his guitars and headed back home to Memphis. Once there he hooked up with songwriter and guitarist Chris Bell who he had known since they were kids growing up. Bell had been playing gigs around the city for a few years and invited Chilton to join the band he had been playing with. It turned out to be a match made in indie heaven.
The two looked around at the growing bloat great bands like The Who were starting to display and they decided to go the other direction. They holed up in Ardent Studios in Memphis and – untroubled by record label or studio pressure due to Chilton’s star appeal – they went to work making what they thought music should be. They kept the four-part harmonies of the Beatles and the tight guitar arrangements of the Kinks and focused their efforts on creating great songs even if they did harbor a fetish for major 6ths.
“It was a time when we could stay up all night, with a sense of being into the music and trying new things,” recalled engineer Terry Manning. “Which if the truth be told was more like trying to copy the Beatles.”
The group named themselves Big Star after a supermarket that was across the street from the studio. It was meant to be ironic and, sadly, it turned out to be moreso than even they planned.
The first album, #1 Record , was released in 1972, is a showcase for Chilton and Bell’s formidable talents but it is clearly a group effort. Every song is marked by the powerful drive of Stephen's excellent drum work and the rock-solid foundation set by bassist Andy Hummel. Although Chilton and Bell shouldered the majority of the singing and songwriting duties, every member of the band contributed.
Radio City, in contrast, is much more of a Chilton led effort. Bell departed during recording due to differences with Chilton and had his name taken off the credits. The record reflects Chilton’s growing interest in blues rather than Bell’s devotion to Revolver-era Beatles. Even so, Bell's influence is clearly felt throughout the record.
There were later recordings and a controversial third album but the internal divisions of the band that began when Bell departed finally tore it completely apart. When Bell died in a car wreck in 1978 the possibility of replicating the magic of the first two album to a tragic end. What remained amid the wreckage were those two near-perfect albums that simply refuse to age. They are as musically fresh and powerful as when they were recorded more than three decades ago. There just ain't a bad song on either.
The songs ranged from the pop perfection of “When My Baby’s Beside Me” to the gritty rock of “Life is White.” Numerous of their songs, notably “September Gurls” and “In the Streets” have become cover staples. You listen to these records and have that thrilling sensation of tumbling freely into the cascade of music and you implicitly trust the song will find a way to catch your fall.
And then they’re a glorious few tunes that simply reside in a higher plane. Every time I hear the beautiful intertwined acoustic guitars in the haunted “Thirteen” I have to stop and listen to it completely. The simple lyrics simply break your heart set in such a delicately pristine setting.
My friend and fellow music connoisseur Mark once said this band is the ultimate example of a band too damn good to make it. Today only critics and music enthusiasts like myself know about these guys anymore. But these guys aren’t critic’s darlings because they are artistically important, they are critics darlings because they are just fucking good. In fact, I defy anyone who loves rock and roll to listen to these albums and not find at least one song they completely fall in love with.
There has been a bit of a renessance recently. There was a mid-90s reunion and another a few yeas back that has led to another release. A biography was recently released and a documentary is in the works. Perhaps the biggest boon to their reputaiton was when their song "In the Streets" was the theme to That 70's Show. Cheap Trick’s cover is suitably vanilla but clearly homage to the original. (They noticeably leave out the parts about stealing cars, smoking pot and breaking streetlights - all the things small town kids do to fight of the horrors of boredom.)
But, I don't worry about the future of Big Star. Their music is going to be around quite a long time to come. Not just because it is important, or critically acclaimed or even cool. Because, in the end, Big Star was about being a teenager, being fucked up and being bored off your ass. They wrote songs about their fears, their guilt and their anger. Most importantly, they wrote true songs with honesty.
And that's will remain a lifeline for fucked up teenagers everywhere.
This essay also appears on my website kleph.com (http://www.kleph.com/)
©2006 C.J. Schexnayder