WEEK 5: SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER (YES, THAT SNF), CHRIS BELL (OF BIG STAR), AND RIBBON STAGE

The 6 Old Guys missed a week, but not a beat. For the last “3 Albums” post that will just be focused on 3 albums for a bit, as we plan to join the fray with our obligatory 2022 lists, we tackle new indie rock from Ribbon Stage, classic power pop from Big Star, and move our aging hips to the inimitable Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack.

New Album: Hit with the Most by Ribbon Stage. If there is a single guitar riff that defines the sound I love most in indie rock, it is the opening to “Playing Possum,” the track that kicks off the debut full-length from this New York trio. Fuzzy, rhythmic, reverb-laden, garage guitar with a simple hook. Throw in lyrics that reference listening to Moe Tucker (drummer from the Velvet Underground who made a few excellent solo records), vocals low in the mix and delivered in a perfectly distant 90s K Records style, drumming that propels at a perfect pace, and this song is as close to a flawless gem of indie rock (or at least indie-rock-that-I-say-is-flawless) as you’ll ever find.

On top of the sound, there is the substance (when you can make it out). These tracks cover familiar ground for indie rock: breakups, tortuous relationships, uncertain present with angst about even less certain futures. Yet there is a cutting bite that sets you on edge as you get enveloped in the sound. In “Playing Possum,” bassist and vocalist Anni Hilator (I mean....) sings to a former, likely longtime partner: “I liked you better when I was 16.” But not to let that settle things, she acknowledges, “You liked me better when I was asleep.” In “No Alternative,” she almost glides past a feeling of being “kept in captivity” and asks “Is this the way out? A nervous breakdown.” Later, in “Hearst,” she confronts an even harsher truth: “My soul is ripped in two/That’s how you like me.”

Nearly every track features open hearts, wounds, and uncertainty. But Ribbon Stage is not offering ways out or paths to healing; instead, each song keeps itself rooted in the pain, uncertainty, and apathy (they even tell you as much in a track called “It’s Apathy”) as if they are getting lost in the sound to find solace. As their Bandcamp page puts it, they make "chaotic noise in tandem with the sweetest hooks and most sophisticated nihilism." (Cue "the Big Lebowski:" that must be exhausting...)    

While trying to balance between those edges, there are missteps; this album is close but not quite perfect. The second track, “Nothing Left,” while a solid song in and of itself, is out of place and would have worked better in the middle as a tempo and tone change of pace (or maybe better, on another record). “Nowhere Fast” features drummer David Sweetie on vocals. And while I appreciate bands with multiple singers and where band members are multi-faceted, his voice is just a bit too bland given how pronounced it is. If he was as buried in the mix as Anni is, perhaps it would fit, but it just throws things off and feels weird when juxtaposed with the smudgy lyrics on the rest.

The good thing, of course, is that these songs clock in at 1:30 and 2:13 respectively, so you don’t have to wait too long to get back to the plain and simple beauty. The entire record is 11 tracks in just over 20 minutes. So just don’t lose focus or it’ll be over before you know it. (Brad)

Album from an upcoming/recent show:  I Am the Cosmos by Chris Bell.  Jody Stephens is the last surviving member of Big Star, and he periodically puts together an all-star band comprised of power-pop devotees to play shows as a tribute to his legendary yet underappreciated-in-their-time band (and presumably to make a few bucks too).  Recently at DC’s Union Stage, Stephens – along with Jon Auer of The Posies, Mile Mills of R.E.M., Chris Stamey of The dB’s, Pat Sansone of Wilco, and Adam Weiner of Low Cut Connie – performed a show dedicated to the 50^th anniversary of Big Star’s #1 Record.  During the first set, the band played #1 Record in order, in its entirety.  I’m normally not a fan of paying an album start-to-finish, but in this case whatever spontaneity might be missing is more than made up for by hearing brilliant songs like “In the Street,” “Thirteen,” and “When My Baby’s Beside Me” played by musicians who connect with Big Star.

After a brief intermission, the band returned to stage and played a second set followed by two encores, most of which included songs from Big Star’s two other albums, Radio City and Third/Sister Lovers.  Sprinkled throughout, however, were a handful of songs from founding member Chris Bell’s solo album, I Am the Cosmos – specifically, the title track, “Fight at the Table,” “I Got Kinda Lost,” “You and Your Sister,” and show closer “There Was a Light.”

Big Star never received the fame they deserved, and Chris Bell has never been mythologized as much as bandmate Alex Chilton, who had a pop career before Big Star as the lead singer in The Box Tops and later on was the subject of one of the best songs (and videos) by The Replacements.  But "I Am the Cosmos" proves that Bell was a highly skilled singer and songwriter in his own right.

Brian

Bell left Big Star during the making of Radio City in 1974, and soon thereafter began recording solo tracks.  Bell continued recording and playing in various bands up until his death in a car accident in 1978 (Big Star bandmates Alex Chilton and Andy Hummel both died in 2010) but did not have a proper solo album out until I Am the Cosmos was eventually released by Rkyodisc in 1992. 

Bell was dealing with depression and embracing spirituality during the time he wrote these songs, and both come through clearly in the album’s first two tracks, “I Am the Cosmos” and “Better Save Yourself.”  You can hear Bell singing about longing and regret in “You and Your Sister” and “There Was a Light.”  Buried under the rock star posture of “Get Away” are lyrics that show Bell drowning in his own depression.  “I Got Kinda Lost,” “I Don’t Know” and “Make a Scene” would have been excellent additions to any Big Star album.  Bell sounds contemplative on “Speed of Sound” and “Though I Know She Lies.”

Big Star never received the fame they deserved, and Chris Bell has never been mythologized as much as bandmate Alex Chilton, who had a pop career before Big Star as the lead singer in The Box Tops and later on was the subject of one of the best songs (and videos) by The Replacements.  But "I Am the Cosmos" proves that Bell was a highly skilled singer and songwriter in his own right.  Let’s hope Jody Stephens keeps the tributes going, because as fun as it is to hear Stephens belt out “Way Out West,” it’s also a treat to watch him and his friends remind everyone that Bell was an important figure in rock history. (Brian)

Album being rediscovered (at least 10 years old): Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack. Context is critical when revisiting older albums.  The focused buzzsaw energy of the Ramones hits different when you can understand how, in the 1970s, it was assailing the bloated fatuousness of classic rock, as compared to selling Go-Pro cameras in 2022.  Context includes not just the other artists that a band may have been reacting to, but also the political and social dynamics of the time.  Soundtrack albums provide an additional layer of the film’s narrative, message, and mood.  I recently revisited the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, and, with added context, my appreciation of the album grew immeasurably. 

I grew up with Disco and the Bee Gees.  My gift of the Bee Gees Greatest cassette to my dad was more of a gift for me than for him.  I was also a fan of Rock, which, we were all told, was Disco’s archenemy.  As a kid, I understood there was a war going on between Rock and Disco.  I vaguely recall Disco Demolition as we lived in Chicagoland, and I was a fan of the DJ who masterminded the event.  If forced to choose sides, I probably would have thrown in my lot with Rock, but I wasn’t about to stop roller-skating to Donna Summer’s Bad Girls either.  Only recently did I understand the deeper dynamics of the Rock vs. Disco war.  Now it is frighteningly obvious why white male hetero Rock was attacking music largely associated with gay and Black communities. 

I’d put Side A up as one of the finest sides of the 70s.  “Night Fever” followed by “More than a Woman” right into “If I Can’t Have You”—what can I say?  So smooth, so catchy, so danceable, so very roller-skateable.

Charles

It was also only recently that I actually watched "Saturday Night Fever."  My family had the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack on vinyl, so my understanding of the movie had been based on the stills in the album’s gatefold and clips of the famous dance scenes with a pointing John Travolta in that white suit.  I figured it was some feel-good popcorn flick where Travolta pulled out a dramatic victory in a dance contest or something—like a 70s Dirty Dancing. Right?

Wow, was I wrong.  Few films have a greater disconnect between the public’s perception and the actual work.  Yes, Saturday Night Fever has a dance contest that Travolta’s character, Tony Manero, wins, but the victory is shown to be wholly undeserved and based on the racism of the judges.  The iconic dance scenes that the film is remembered for are, in context, brief respites from a world that has left Tony and his friends behind.  On Saturday night, Tony is king, but the rest of the week Tony and his friends show themselves to be racist, homophobic, sexist losers, and ultimately rapists.  Some see the ending as Tony starting on a path to redemption, but, for me, the reed is so slender that I was left feeling nothing but contempt for every character.  It is really a dark film.  Brilliant, but dark.

And that’s going to shape how you hear these songs.  For instance, the movie opens with “Staying Alive” and Tony’s classic strut.  Now when I hear this song, I also understand Tony is strutting right back to the real world of his dead-end hardware store job.

Understanding the context of the film brings out the pathos and desperation lurking in what are still undeniable songs.  Sure, as a double album, it runs a bit long and a few tracks sound like filler (looking at you, “Manhattan Skyline”).  But I’d put Side A up as one of the finest sides of the 70s.  “Night Fever” followed by “More than a Woman” right into “If I Can’t Have You”—what can I say?  So smooth, so catchy, so danceable, so very roller-skateable. 

There’s much more that could be said about the role of this album in the Rock vs. Disco war as well—probably a whole Ph.D. thesis.  By the time the album was released, Disco had largely peaked, but then exploded in popularity with this soundtrack.  That Tony and his racist posse brought Disco to a general audience is but one particularly ironic example of the recurring pattern of white people bringing Black music to “mainstream respectability.”  The album also demonstrates how what appears to be a simple story can be so much more complex in context. (Charles)