Walking In The Reign: Grace Jones at 65

At the risk of having a TMI moment, I'm going to share the fact that there's a little part of my brain that is dedicated to Grace Jones's version of Use Me, the Bill Withers song. A quick mental flick of the switch and it starts playing. The rhythm section of Sly & Robbie, along with the keys of Wally Badarou, sets the stage, concocting a fantastic groove that's both earthy and mechanical. Then Grace enters, working her slightly stentorian mezzo against the beat: "MY friends/THINK that/It's THEIR appointed duty..." So freaking fabulous. It was actually that song that sealed the deal for me with Grace, standing in Tower Records in 1998, the year the excellent compilation Private Life was released. I had bought the 12" of Pull Up To My Bumper in high school and had put it on countless mix tapes over the years - it is still a guaranteed floor-filler - but had not invested further. Now I was a true convert and have remained so ever since. When she's at her best, there's something about her bravery and strength, not to mention her uniquely rhythmic singing, that moves me.

Private Life covers the three albums she made in Compass Point, Nassau, with the amazing band Island Records head Chris Blackwell hand-picked to work with her. The Caribbean was a homecoming for Grace as she was born in Jamaica, moving to Syracuse, NY at the age of 12. It wasn't too long before she made her escape from that frozen city and she was quickly mixing it up in NYC and Paris as a model, scene-stealing party-goer and, eventually, a singer. It soon became obvious that she was an extension of a through-line that started with Josephine Baker and continued through Eartha Kitt (I'm a big fan) - unconventional vocalists with a strong theatrical bent and personae that freely confront issues of gender, race and sexuality.

Her first three albums made her name in the hardcore disco underground of the Pradise Garage and its ilk, but it wasn't until Blackwell sent her down to Nassau that she began to make wider waves. The story goes that he sent down some of the outrageous photos Jean Paul Goude had made of her as a virtual advance team. Sly, Robbie and the rest of the Compass Point Allstars began work on the album with huge posters of Grace staring at them from all angles, though they still might not have been fully prepared when she showed up in the flesh. Covering songs by The Normal, Iggy Pop, The Police, Chrissie Hynde, Tom Petty and others, she proved to be a genius interpreter of contemporary songwriters. On Living My Life, the third Compass Point album, her own songwriting became richer and more personal. While she was often late and sometimes a no-show at her concerts, the film A One Man Show used videos and live footage to display a riveting and unique performer.

After Living My Life, Grace tried something new, working with producer Trevor Horn on Slave To The Rhythm, which yielded another classic single in the title track. She co-wrote every song on Inside Story in 1986, working with Nile Rodgers to update her sound yet again. Like Slave To The Rhythm, Inside Story has some 80's clatter, but I'm Not Perfect (But I'm Perfect For You) is a strong single and the songs continued to show more nuance. However, Bulletproof Heart, the 1989 album overseen by her then-husband (naturally, she's had a couple), found her either subsumed or unsupported by the production.

There were ups and downs after that point and a long period of quiescence. In 2008 she released Hurricane, a return to form that found her working with Sly & Robbie again and sharing her most personal songs yet. The frankly autobiographical Williams' Blood revealed that her maternal grandfather, Dan Williams, was a musician who had not always behaved himself while on the road with Nat King Cole - a far cry from Jones' preacher-father. The dichotomy between the Jones blood and the Williams blood is likely a source of the tension and emotional depth contained in Grace's finest work.

I had a chance to see her perform in 2009 and she was as spectacular as I had imagined, managing to sing well while wearing incredible costumes. She's a bit eccentric, obviously, and chattered out autobiographical anecdotes from backstage during each costume change. While there hasn't been any new music since Hurricane, she made a recent splash at the Queen's Jubilee concert, singing Slave To The Rhythm while unflappably hula hooping through the whole song. Queen Elizabeth was not in the stadium yet, which is just as well - it might have been confusing to have two queens there at the same time!

Happy 65th birthday to the one, the only, Miss Grace Jones.

Are You Receiving?

Why do you like this? That was...interesting. That sounds weird! 


Having gotten those responses (and many others) to some of the music I've played for people, I thought it would be worth looking into the question of why I like what I like. When All Songs Considered asked a similar question on their blog, I posted a longwinded answer from which this adapted.


Well, there is the part of music that is a simulacrum of the in uturo experience, which is something every human from Hitler to Gandhi has in common. The rhythm of the heartbeat, the music of voices from without - these are the building blocks that compelled people to start making music 10,000+ years ago. It is said (by Francis Bebey in his fantastic book African Music: A People's Art, for one) that all of the first instruments were created in an attempt to imitate the human voice and other sounds made by the body. This leads to another basic part of music: communication. The griot tradition is very old and represents music's origins as a way to tell stories, spread news and recount history.

This is all just a grandiose way of saying that music is something that helps us feel connected to other people and that we are not alone.


Now, as to why a particular individual gravitates toward particular music...that must be due to the sum total of their experiences, starting with that time in uturo. I do think that people who are exposed to a broad range of art and culture of all kinds will probably be attracted to a broader range of music. My children (9 and 11) have heard everything from Mozart to Metallica, Stravinsky to Sleigh Bells, Beatles to Bolan, Boulez to Belafonte, Bon Iver, Black Uhuru, etc., etc, ad infinitum. Not to mention great art of all media. Is it just coincidence that they show no affinity for homogenized stuff like the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus, which is aggressively marketed to them? I don't think so.

For me, I am attracted to a huge variety of music and usually left cold by mainstream artists like U2 or Springsteen or Beyonce. I want to find myself in the music, not be told what to feel or be confronted with icy perfection (unless it is mated to sardonic lyrics as in the sui generis sounds of Steely Dan). Music gives me energy and comfort, uplift and sorrow, intellectual stimulation, etc. and I seek out the music that does these things the best - to my ears.


None of the above explains why I strongly dislike Conor Oberst and M. Ward and find Andrew Bird tiresome after a few songs. These are all things critics I respect bring to my attention but that just don't work for me. Why do I like Shearwater but run screaming from Okkerville River? It can all be a bit of a mystery.


I remember reading the first reviews of Metal Box by Public Image Ltd., describing it as weird and nearly unlistenable. When I put it on, it just sounded right. Somehow my experiences from 1964 - 1979 just made that music fit with who I was. I still love that record.

Another example is Grace Jones. I am devoted to her music - the quirky voice, the fantastic Sly and Robbie rhythms, the outre subject matter. But friend of mine just says "She sounds weird," and shudders when I put it on. And when she talks about Johnny Mathis, it's my turn to shudder!


I also think it is quite typical for someone in their 40's as I am to slow down in their quest for new sounds and musical experiences. But I am continually on the hunt and even find myself going back to music that I've previously dismissed to see if my opinion has changed. I just don't want to miss out. Why do I feel to urge to evangelically spread the word about new discoveries when others are simply waiting for the next raft of Grammy winners to help them decide what to buy?


What about you? Are you satisfied with what the mainstream (such as it is in these fragmented times) delivers to you? How big is your musical universe and what do you think made it that way?


Next time: How I got crazy about music, Part 1.

2009 Wrap Up: Highs, Lows, Reissues & Buried Treasures

Highlights: Leonard Cohen at Radio City (at last!); Grace Jones at Hammerstein (give Hurricane, her latest, a try - it's magnificent); dancing to Michael Jackson at every party (why did we ever stop? Did we get enough?); watching Stephen Stills rip it at the Hall Of Fame concerts on HBO (go to 2:09 in the clip); Lou Reed/Metallica was cool, too; discovering DJ/Rupture's Mudd Up podcast; taking my daughter and nephew to Girl Crazy at City Center (can't have too much Gershwin); DJ'ing New Year's Eve again; and my 120 gig iPod.


Lowlights: Death of Michael Jackson (more on him another time) and so many other valuable musicians; playing requests at my New Year's Eve DJ gig (if you ain't going to dance to it, don't ask for it!); getting a targeted marketing email from Amazon trying to sell me the new album from self-justifying woman-hitter Chris Brown (this was related to my buying history how?); and yet another year with no new music from Portuguese genius Gecko Turner.

Reissues: This year was dominated by that four-headed elephant in the room: The Beatles remasters. And rightly so - whether you swing stereo or mono, this was a necessary upgrade, if even only for the packaging. The biggest surprise for me was Magical Mystery Tour. Finally, all the takes George Martin mashed-up to create the final masters blend beautifully on Strawberry Fields Forever and Penny Lane and the rest sounds terrific, too. Chuck out those clunky jewel-cases with those indifferent CD's and get this behemoth now.


However, there were other reissues of note: The Who Sell Out and Tito Puente's Dance Mania got well-deserved deluxe editions. The Who's fake radio station shows the contrast between British rock and the culture it was blowing up. It's outrageous, polished, profound, hilarious, and it rocks. Tito was simply el rey of mambo and this album (and it's successor, included here) sealed his rep. The production gleams and displays all the interlocking parts of his amazing band like an exposed V12 engine. A pinnacle of Latin music and music in general.


Buried Treasures: While the resurgence of Rodriguez continued to amaze (check out his Daytrotter session), it was undiscovered wonders from Death and Tim Buckley that forced 2009 listeners to reassess some piece of the past. 


For The Whole World To See, Death's lone recording, is a six song blast of proto-punk, with an almost proggy expansiveness to songs like "Politicians In Their Eyes." Aside from a misguided drum interlude (I hesitate to call it a solo), this record is fresher than many sounds recorded today. But in 1974, these three African-American brothers from Detroit had their fingers on a pulse only they could feel. Keep an eye out for the film of their startling story. 


Live at the Folklore Center, March 6th, 1967 finds Tim Buckley pouring his heart out to a crowd of 35 enthusiastic fans. Sometimes compared to Nick Drake, Buckley typically burns at a much higher intensity and this stunning performance is no exception. His high tenor is lush and impassioned and his guitar playing is deft - in short, he's at the top of his game. Did I mention there are six (six!) Buckley songs that appeared nowhere else? Whether you're an old fan or a curious newcomer, this is essential listening. Thanks to Izzy Young and the Buckley estate for giving this collection a long overdue airing. 


In two weeks: Enough of 2009. A review of Spoon's latest serving, Transference.