VHS of the Month: "The Verve: The Video 96-98"

[VHS of the Month covers movies only - or best - commercially available on VHS.]

The Verve: The Video 96-98 is what the title suggests: a compilation of various types of video of the band taken while the group was at its peak popularity. The content centers mostly around music from Urban Hymns, but earlier material is included as well. The first half of the program is based on studio recordings, including a Richard Ashcroft acoustic demo of "The Drugs Don't Work" and the music videos for each of the three hits from Urban Hymns. The latter half is comprised mostly of live footage unavailable elsewhere, including three powerhouse performances from an acclaimed show at Haigh Hall in Manchester. In all, the out-of-print tape offers a great insight into the life of the group at the time (minus the in-fighting and ecstasy consumption), and is a priceless piece of media from a band which has made very little available but the music. Besides, as the VHS tray in the box reminds you:

Out of Print Gems: "In Concert 1972"

Far and away the most successful of the Beatles' (mostly ill-fated) business ventures of the late 1960s was the foundation of Apple Records. The label would put out all Beatles releases from the White Album on, as well as solo Beatle releases (including the "fifth Beatle," Billy Preston) for some time in the wake of the band's dissolution. However, it also served - especially early on - as an arena where the Beatles could record their favorite musicians (obscure figures or their own discoveries) and give them exposure they otherwise could never have received. Paul's pet projects included Badfinger and James Taylor; Ringo brought in the British modern classical composer John Tavener. George, of course, was fixated with Indian music, which he singlehandedly popularized in the Western world. Apple's first Indian release was The Radha Krishna Temple, whose lead single, a devotional chant called "Hare Krishna Mantra," somehow managed to hit #12 in the UK and spawned an entire generation of bald, barefoot white men dancing and handing out flowers at airports.

The biggest name Harrison was to introduce to Western audiences was sitarist Ravi Shankar. The two met shortly after Harrison began exploring Indian music in 1965 and would remain friends until Harrison's death in 2001. During that span a number of Shankar's recordings were produced in part or entirely by Harrison, who would eventually record him for his own Dark Horse label in the 80s. The first of these records (and only full-length Apple release), In Concert 1972, was truly an all-star affair, featuring, in addition to Shankar, two Indian classical maestros whose mastery of their respective instruments at least matched his: Ali Akbar Khan on the sarod, and Alla Rakha on the tabla. The recording came from a concert played in October 1972, a month after the death of Allauddin Khan, the beloved guru of both Khan and Shankar. The album opens with a dedication to his memory, and the emotion of the two disciples is evident in the fire of their playing throughout. Opening with a stately, lyrical evening raga composed by Allaudin Khan, the trio gradually builds momentum over the course of the performance and finishes with an astonishing crescendo on "Sindhi Bhairavi," played at a blazing speed as impressive in its emotional power as it is in sheer dexterity.

Unfortunately, except for a brief, Europe-only CD release, In Concert has remained out of print since it was originally issued on vinyl nearly 40 years ago. 2010 saw a grand resuscitation of Apple Records as a more-than-one-artist label, with the launch of a new website and the remastering and rerelease of 14 old titles (plus a new "Best of" compilation); with any luck, in due time In Concert will receive the same treatment. Until then, interested parties can download it here.

One Man's Nosebleeds, Another Man's Retirement

According to the California Penal Code § 346, selling "a ticket of admission to [an] entertainment event, which was obtained for the purpose of resale, at any price which is in excess of the price that is printed or endorsed upon the ticket, while on the grounds... where [that] event... is to be held or is being held, is guilty of a misdemeanor." In clearer words, scalping tickets is illegal.

Anyone who's ever been to a game or a concert is familiar with the procedure: to buy a scalped ticket, you search any crowded spot near the arena for someone looking paranoid. And chances are, anyone who's ever seen tickets being scalped has also seen a fair number of scalpers being told to leave by the cops (or even arrested, if they get disorderly). It's a dumb law, but it's one of countless dumb laws, and if the State of California wants it on the books, that's its prerogative.

The evolution of the internet and the gradual movement of (effectively) all legal ticket sales online has given rise to the internet scalper, a unique brand of sociopath that uses multiple computers and programs to buy up large sections of tickets to hyped events to sell them at outrageously inflated prices. Corporations have since been founded around that very business model: StubHub, founded in 2000, became synonymous with internet scalping in early 2007 when it merged with auction king eBay.

The question that California laws have yet to answer - or for that matter, even address - is why this form of ticket scalping remains legal while selling tickets in person is not. Until recently, there remained a viable technicality distinguishing the two: internet sales were not taking place on the arena premises. Yet thanks to smartphones, this isn't the case anymore. Internet firms even have had the audacity to create apps that allow you to use your phone to buy your ticket and get into the arena itself - from the convenience of the parking lot. Predictably, prices have risen to match the market trends, and sufficiently desperate StubHub cutomers often pay admission prices inflated by as much as 300% (to say nothing of eBay prices, which can reach higher than Yao Ming). Functionally, then, the only difference between the online and street scalpers is that street scalpers have negotiable rates and recognize that they can't afford to even suggest 300% inflation rates for fear of scaring away customers. The icing on the cake is that official online ticket retailers (Ticketmaster, Live Nation) have increased ticket fees annually in an attempt to make up lost ground.

At this rate, it seems we're headed towards another College Board-style legal monopoly - and short of Teddy Roosevelt coming back from the dead and adapting miraculously to 21st century politics, the country doesn't have any trust-busters willing or able to save fans from the future state of affairs. It's up to America to keep buying tickets from the crackheads on the corner. When the cops ask, we'll just say it's in the interest of free enterprise.

My Top 10 Albums of the 90s: (4) Endtroducing..... - DJ Shadow

[This is the seventh in a series of ten posts. The list'll be revealed as entries are written.]

The birth of the recording industry had little initial impact on musicians' relationship with their art. Early jazzmen, for instance, thought of their recordings like business cards: reproducible and easily transportable, yet ultimately, mere precursors to the live performances that contained the true, valuable music. Over time, though, recordings came to replace live performance – with a handful of exceptions – as the music that "mattered," upon which legacies were staked. Not surprisingly, the rise of turntablism and the genesis of hip hop would take this to unprecedented levels, where recorded media itself would become as integral to the music as the recordings that media contained. The use of sampling would culminate in the Dust Brothers' production of the Beastie Boys' Paul’s Boutique, and largely die in the aftermath of Grand Upright Music vs. Warner Bros. Records, which established as precedent that all subsequent sampling would have to be cleared before use. Josh Davis was uniquely suited to launch a career in sample-based music in the aftermath of the landmark case. Having acquired thousands of records from the basement "crypt" of his local music store (where LPs up to decades old lay in unsorted stacks), the man who would become DJ Shadow grounded his musical vernacular in sounds that, in many cases, hadn't been heard in a generation. Practically, of course, this meant that the vast majority of the samples wouldn't need to be cleared. Yet it would have equally significant aesthetic ramifications – ones which would determine the musical identity of his debut album, Endtroducing....., and in many ways account for its enduring uniqueness in popular music. The album is steeped in hip hop, and relies on many of its most foundational devices: braggadocio, manic breakbeats, spoken word samples, and relentless reinterpolation of effective hooks. But the very nature of the obscure samples eerily remove the music from any context of time or genre. Indeed, more than almost any other album Endtroducing exists as an entity unto itself, expanding on its identity as it effortlessly bobs and weaves from one haunting theme to the next. Shadow's vivid talent as an arranger and turntablist certainly reinforces the thrill of listening to once-dead music being reincarnated, but it also serves to make his music gripping in its own right. The sounds that make up Endtroducing ensured that it wouldn’t ever sound of its time; the sound of Endtroducing makes it timeless.

Real "Love"

After an extended dispute centered around the both parties' claim to the trademarked name "Apple," the Beatles added their catalog, which had been digitally remastered in 2009, to the iTunes library last year. Today marks the iTunes debut of the most recent release (to date) from the official catalog, 2006's fantastic remix album Love, mashed up by George and Giles Martin for use in the same-titled Cirque du Soleil show. As an added incentive, the iTunes purchase comes with two mixes of songs that had never been included with Love before. Unusually, iTunes is showing the decency of making these tracks available individually (at the unfortunate-but-standard cost of $1.29 each), without remaking a purchase that many Beatles fans had made years ago. So to most, not much news - but new Beatles music is new Beatles music.

The tracks themselves are "The Fool on the Hill" and "Girl," and as with most tracks from the album, each mix flirts with other songs while fundamentally leaving the original form intact. The former new release is the more interesting of the two. It begins with a pitch-altered snippet of Indian drone ostensibly snatched from "Within You Without You," which leads into an all-new, chime-filled intro, reminiscent in spirit to the minor-key piano intro from the version released on Anthology 2 but sounding unlike any other officially-released version of the song. The instrumental break is marked by the addition/up-mixing of more wind instruments than previously there/audible (either McCartney on his recorder or one of the flautists on the track), giving it a punchy feel matched by an amped up drum fill leading back into the prechorus. A brief snatch of the backing track from "Mother Nature's Son" before the last verse ends the tweaks.

"Girl," by contrast, is relatively untouched. The guitar plucking in the second verse is more emphasized in this mix than on the original version, and as on "Fool on the Hill," quiet drones are audible in the background. The only other noteworthy change is the addition of the opening acoustic riff from "And I Love Her," which reannounces itself throughout the song and is a nice addition. The most notable aspect of "Girl" in this context is probably just its inclusion, which rather shockingly marks only the second significant appearance of Rubber Soul material on Love (along with "The Word," which shows up in a medley with "Drive My Car" and "What You're Doing").

In all, they're hardly essential additions - particularly tacked as they are onto the end of the album, standing out rather sharply from the sweeping flow of the rest - but completists will find plenty to enjoy and would be well-served to drop the few dollars to pick them up.

The Scruff that Dreams Are Made Of

The world of professional sports was once a bastion of facial hair. In fact, that era didn't end as long ago as it might seem. Except for Joe Montana, literally everyone - Bengal or 49er - whose player card appeared on TV during Super Bowl XVI was sporting a mustache, and it was only 35 years ago that the East German Women's Swim Team shocked the world with their roid-enhanced, visibly hairy upper lips. For decades, though, the system was on life support, scratching by on an abundance of personality-free goatees and the rare thin, Michael Jordan-style mustache - that is, until recently.

The true revival of facial hair in sports began in 1995, when hockey's New Jersey Devils usurped the trademark of the powerhouse New York Islander teams of the early 1980s: the playoff beard. Since then, the playoff beard has become one of the NHL's proudest traditions - a symbol of unity and sacrifice for players and fans alike, as teams battle through the long, arduous journey to earn Lord Stanley's Cup. Slowly, the allure of playoff pogonotrophy reached its way out through the rest of American sport, and devotees patiently awaited the day when a patron saint (athlete) would arrive and spread the gospel.

Sure enough, 2010 brought not one set of saviors, but two. The San Francisco Giants used "Fear the Beard" as their battle cry throughout their championship run, with players including NLCS MVP Cody Ross and virtually the entire bullpen sprouting beards to match. The most iconic of all belonged to the ever-eccentric closer Brian Wilson, whose laser-printer-toner black chin mask captured the attention of fans and the media as much for his refusal to admit it wasn't dyed ("We play a lot of day games... It's tanned.") as for its undeniable grandeur. Not to be outdone, the Pittsburgh Steelers independently adopted the same ethos. And just like the Giants, the Steelers feature plenty of facial hair (including the beard of star quarterback Ben Roethlisberger), but have one mug that stands out above the rest: the imperial majesty of the beard that belongs to defensive end Brett Keisel, who justifiably has referred to it in interviews as "the greatest beard of all time."

One can only hope that this is part of a growing trend (pun) - a return to the halcyon days of yore, when facial hair belonged to heroes of the court, diamond, and gridion, instead of perverts, hobos, and Scot Pollard. Until then, here's a few of the all-time great athelete beards, to show what we're missing out on.

Calgary Flames legend Lanny McDonald

Helmet abstainer "Cowboy" Bill Flett

Human hurricane Mike Ditka

Chicago Colt Cap Anson

Giants legend Rod Beck

A's legend Rollie Fingers

New York Knick Hall of Famer John Shaft Walt Frazier

...and finally, modern-day beard advocate Baron Davis in the midst of the greatest dunk of all time.