The 500 - #228 - Paid In Full - Eric B. & Rakim

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #228
Album Title: Paid In Full
Artist: Eric B. & Rakim
Genre: Golden Age Hip Hop
Recorded: Three Marly Marl's Home Studio and Power Play Studios, New York. 

Released: July, 1987
My age at release: 21
How familiar was I with it before this week: A few songs

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #61, moving up 167 places since the 2012 list.
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Paid In Full (Coldcut Remix)

The term "The Golden Age" comes to us from Greek Mythology. Specifically, it is mentioned in a poem written by Hesiod (c. 750 - 650 B.C.E.) in a didactic almanac of sorts entitled Works And Days. It described the decline of a state of people through a series of ages -- Gold, Silver, Bronze, Heroic and Iron. It was written when, according to Hesiod, human existence in its final stage would be a time of toil and misery. He described the Iron period as a time when "might makes right" and evil men use lies to be thought good. Humans no longer feel shame when committing sin, children dishonour parents and war is the norm. Sound familiar?

Conversely, the "Golden Age" is the period when peace and harmony prevailed, food was plentiful and death came peacefully, late in a vigorous and rewarding life. The term has, over time, morphed somewhat. Not only is it used to describe a time, sometimes imagined, full of peace, prosperity and harmony, it is also correlated with a time when a specific art, skill or practise was at its zenith.

As a kid, when I'd hear about "The Golden Age" of something, I would get the feeling that I'd missed out. Adults in my world and on television talked about The Golden Age of …Hollywood, Comic Books, Television, Radio or Science Fiction, and I couldn't help but wonder "what would that have been like...to be there...to exist in the thick of that miraculous time?”

The Golden Age of Comics (1938 - 1956) was a period I found particularly fascinating as a kid.

However, I've since realized that "The Golden Age" is not something one understands "living through" until well after it has departed. It is a construct developed in retrospect. Indeed, I have lived through, and feverishly participated in, “The Golden Age of Arcade Video Games" (1976-1984) and didn't recognize it as such until reflecting on it nostalgically in the late ‘90s. Indeed, I invested thousands of dollars into the fad...a quarter at a time.

An assortment of classic arcade video games from that 
Golden Age.

I also lived through The Golden Age of Hip Hop (1986-1993) and, in contrast with my financial and emotional commitment to arcade games, I actively railed against it. Like many twenty-somethings, I brimmed with a caustic cocktail of ignorance, intolerance and bombast. A quarter century later, not only have I softened my attitude, I’ve become a fan of this era in music. It was an emotional evolution that has been supercharged by my journey through The 500 list.

However, during The Golden Age of Hip Hop, there were a few songs and artists that managed to crack my armour of intolerance. Eric B. & Rakim was one such group, and the title track from this week's record, Paid In Full, was a song I quietly enjoyed.

Interestingly, it was not the original version of the song that made its way around my  youthful auditory disdain. It was a remix released in October, 1987, by English electronic duo Coldcut, comprising Matt Black and Jonathan More. The seven-minute version was dubbed Paid In Full (Seven Minutes of Madness-The Coldcut Remix). The extended name is not surprising, as Tony Harrington detailed in his 1998 book, Invisible* Jukebox. The landmark remix "laid the groundwork for hip hop's entry into the mainstream" and became Eric B. & Rakim's breakout hit outside the United States.

Paid In Full was the debut record from DJ Eric B. (Eric Banner) and rapper Rakim (William Michael Griffin Jr.) who met in Long Island, New York, in 1985 and were soon composing. The first song they wrote together, Eric B. Is President, was recorded in the home studio of  DJ and producer Marley Marl (Marlon Lu'Ree Williams). In my October, 2023, post I discussed the impact that song had on the evolution of hip hop. The lyrics were clever and Rakim was the first successful artist to incorporate multi-syllabic rhymes that crossed the musical bar line.

The song Paid In Full, is also clever lyrically and musically. The narrative eschewed the typical hip hop structure of the time -- hyper machismo, boastful and often rife with obscenities and references to a criminal world. Instead, Rakim eschews that approach and instead exposes his vulnerability as a struggling artist who hopes that his penchant for rhyme and hard work will lead to "righteous" (his word) financial redemption. The song is shrewdly built around beats and musical motifs from three Funk and R&B sources:

Ashley's Roachclip by The Soul Searchers (1974)

Don't Look Any Further by Dennis Edwards (1984)

Change The Beat (French Female Version) by Beside (1982) 

The Coldcut remix contains a staggering 25 samples from other audio sources including the haunting Im Nin'Alu from Israeli singer Ofra Haza who has been dubbed "The Madonna of the East".

There are some tracks on the debut Eric B. & Rakim album that are a bit dated -- Extended Beat and Chinese Arithmetic have not aged well. However, as evidenced by my classroom students' reaction to it, the song Paid In Full, stands-up. When a much younger colleague heard me playing it one morning before school, she asked who it was.

"This is Eric B. & Rakim", I answered, "mid-eighties hip hop".

"I like it," she replied.

"Yea," I said, "It holds up".

Quietly I thought, "it should", it is, after all, from "The Golden Age of Hip Hop." I can't say I lived through it, but I was grumpily adjacent.

The 500 - #229 - Toys In The Attic - Aerosmith

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #229
Album Title: Toys In The Attic
Artist: Aerosmith
Genre: Rock, Hard Rock, Blues Rock
Recorded: Three Studios, Hollywood, California, U.S.A. 

Released: April, 1975
My age at release: 9
How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite

Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Sweet Emotion

While mental illness is less stigmatized than it was in my youth, society has, for the most part, recognized that mental disorders are endemic and that we should reframe our language to project more compassion and kindness toward those afflicted.

That said, I am also fascinated by language and, in particular, idioms, colloquialisms, idiosyncratic or cultural jargon. When encountering unusual terms or expressions I am delighted even if I bristle with discomfort. It's much like experiencing a bit of dark comedy that, although offside, is perfectly constructed,

Consider the following:

• Meshugenah (Yiddish for insane) is just a fun word to say.
• Bats in the Belfry is a 19th Century U.S. expression for someone eccentric. The clever turn of phrase paints an interesting metaphorical picture.
• As does the title of this week's record, Toys In The Attic -- a relatively new term taken from a 1960 play of the same name by Lillian Hellman.
  

My favourite language distortions come from Cockney Rhyming Slang (CRS), a vernacular developed in the working-class East End of London, England, in the mid-19th Century. Lore has it that to be a Cockney, you must live within the sound of Bow Bells – that is, within earshot of the famous bells of the historic Church of St. Mary-le-Bow (founded 1080). The phrases of this curious and colourful dialect are constructed by replacing the final word of an expression with an unrelated rhyming word. More confusing still, the final rhyming word is eventually dropped. CRS is an idiosyncratic construct better explained by example.

Confused?

The lexicon is deliberately bewildering. Historians are still debating the origin of CRS. It likely started as a linguistic game among East End residents that morphed into a way locals could communicate privately with each other – perhaps for traders to collude in the marketplace, or as a way for criminals to baffle law enforcement when nefarious plans were afoot. Another plausible reason is to confuse the King’s men. You can hear the odd rhyming slang in the British television series East Enders.

Cockney is similar to the cryptic argot known as "Thieves' Cant" which dates back to the Elizabethan Period (1558-1603). It could be spoken or written with simple shapes similar to cuneiform.

Written Thieves Cant (or The Hobo Code).

So, how were bizarre, eccentric, idiosyncratic people identified in Cockney Rhyming Slang?

Well, the last name of actor Patrick Swayze, is often substituted for the word "crazy". But, there is an expression that is even trickier and is based on the expression "Nobody's watching the television" to refer to someone who seems to make behavioural choices without any forethought. In Cockney Rhyming Slang, this might be phrased as, "He's completely custard!" See explanation below.

While it is unkind to disparage someone struggling with their mental health, perhaps you can understand why I find the history of the colloquialisms fascinating. I've debated introducing an activity to my classroom. I would invite students to perform a “deep dive” on an idiom and then present their findings to the class. The idea came from a segment in a podcast I enjoy called Where Did It Come From?  I mentioned this last year and a musically gifted Grade 7 student named Sameed (who, enviably, has perfect pitch) wrote me a jingle -- which could be used to introduce each presentation, much like a stinger is used to introduce a segment on a radio broadcast.

A Book of Idiom Origins I have in my classroom.

Speaking of idioms, this week’s album, Toys In The Attic was the third studio release from American hard rock band Aerosmith. It became their breakout commercial release, selling nine million copies. It featured three chart-topping singles – Sweet Emotion, Walk This Way, and the power ballad, You See Me Crying. I'll admit, the record and band intimidated (yet fascinated) me in 1975. I was nine then and the music I liked (and knew my parents would approve of) was the soft rock found on the AM radio dial. Captain and Tennille, Barry Manilow, Elton John and Donny & Marie were my cup of tea.

Top Pop Hits of 1975.

However, I took the school bus home with plenty of teenagers who talked vociferously about edgier fare, including Bob Segar, Bad Company, The Doobie Brothers, KISS, Alice Cooper, Ted Nugent and Aerosmith. Sometimes, I bravely tuned the family stereo to the FM dial and listened to Detroit radio. Sweet Emotion was the first Aerosmith song I remember hearing. Guitarist Joe Perry makes use of a talk-box, a bit of electronic wizardry that allows the musician to "shape" the sound of their guitar notes by singing through a plastic tube that extends to a foot pedal that can be turned on and off. Much like Cockney Rhyming Slang, it is better understood when seen and heard.

Talk Box (l) and Joe Perry placing the tube in his mouth to use it.

The sound was haunting, mesmerizing and slightly sinister. Just hearing it felt subversive. To add to my confused sense of rebellion were the lyrics, including the following two stanzas

"Some sweat hog mama with a face like a gent,
Said my get up and go, must've got up and went.
Well I got good news, she's a real good liar,
'Cause the backstage boogie sets your pants on fire.

I pulled into town in a police car.
Your daddy said I took it just a little too far.
You're telling her things but your girlfriend lied.
You can't catch me 'cause the rabbit done died.
Yes it did."

I'm not sure if I was more concerned about the "sweat hog mama with a face like a gent", incendiary trousers that were victim to "the backstage boogie" or the fact that a rabbit had expired.

Album cover for Sweet Emotion - Limited Edition Single.

Chatter around the schoolyard postulated that "a dead rabbit meant someone was pregnant". I was skeptical but later learned it was accurate. The idiom “the rabbit died” came from a scientific procedure called The Rabbit Test, a bioassay (animal-based test) used in the 1940s to determine pregnancy. Unfortunately for the rabbit, the test required an examination of its ovaries, resulting in the big-eared creature’s demise -- regardless of the results.

Regardless, the idiom lives on ... and so does my love of them...You might say I'm Patrick Swayze for a clever idiom and its origin.

 

The 500 - #230 - Nick Of Time - Bonnie Raitt

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #230
Album Title: Nick Of Time
Artist: Bonnie Raitt
Genre: Rock, Americana, Blues-Rock
Recorded: Three Studios, Hollywood, California, U.S.A. 

Released: March, 1989
My age at release: 23
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 492, dropping 262 spots since 2012
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Have A Heart

Nick Of Time was the tenth studio record by American singer, songwriter and guitarist Bonnie Raitt. It is also the second of two records by her on The 500 list. I wrote about her 1972 record, Give It Up, nearly five years

When I re-read my post from 2019, I confronted a wide range of emotions I suspect were similar to an adult looking back on his own school work or photographs. For instance:

• Embarrassment. The writing is pedestrian and seems to have been written without much editing. Granted, it was my fifth post on this 10-year journey. I was still treading water, feeling my way. Additionally, at that time, my father hadn't come on board to give my copy a once-over. His suggestions have improved my writing and perhaps more importantly, he serves as "first reader". His comments about the album of the week help me understand the perspective of someone less familiar with the music or artists in question.
• Satisfaction. I remind myself that 270 records are now in the rearview mirror, and that my writing style and approach to my posts have improved significantly.
• Frustration. The story I chose to share on my Give It Up post would have made more sense being shared here. It would also have been better written.
• Amusement. In 2019, I set the ambitious goal of writing about two records a week. That pace helped me catch-up to The 500 Podcast, which began four months ahead of me. However, it was ultimately unsustainable and I am glad I lowered my weekly output to one.

• 

  Album cover for Give It Up, #495 on The 500.

Such is the unsettling or pleasing consequence of looking back. As I mentioned in that 2019 post, Nick Of Time was Raitt's biggest commercial breakthrough. It came at the end of the lowest point in her career and life. In 1983, Raitt had been released from her record company (Warner Brothers) because of dissatisfaction with her record sales. The record she had just recorded and mastered (edited and produced), Tongue And Groove, was shelved by the executives. Additionally, she was struggling with a drug and alcohol addiction.

Bonnie Raitt (early 80s).

Raitt continued touring to pay the bills and support her partying lifestyle. However, as crowds dwindled, she could no longer afford her backing band and the group was dissolved. Further frustrating Raitt was Warner Brothers  decision to release her Tongue and Groove record with the new title, Nine Lives. It received little press and Raitt was now promoting a record over which she had little control. This exacerbated her substance abuse and plunged her deeper into depression.

Album cover for the Nine Lives album.

Pop star Prince was a fan of Raitt's and invited her to his studio, Paisley Park in Minneapolis, with the promise of a record contract. The gesture was derailed by a skiing accident which hospitalized her for two months. However, the silver lining  was that her convalescence gave her a new perspective on life and she began attending Alcoholic Anonymous meetings -- which she now credits with her nearly 40 years of sobriety.

Raitt continued to tour as a solo performer in order to stay afloat. In late 1987, she joined singers k.d. lang and Jennifer Warnes as the background vocalists for one of my favourite television specials, Roy Orbison and Friends: Black and White Night. It was a highly acclaimed concert film, featuring a who's who list of performers who have multiple records on The 500 list, including Bruce Springsteen (8), Elvis Costello (4), Jackson Brown (3) and Tom Waits (3).

Promotional Poster for 30th Anniversary release
of Roy Orbison Black and White Night DVD.

At about the same time, Raitt connected with now legendary songwriter and producer Don Was. The pair collaborated on several recordings and, in 1989, Raitt signed a new contract with Capitol Records. Her sobriety, hard work and the positive connections she had built in the music industry led to her breakout album, Nick Of Time, in 1989. At the age of 40, her eight-year journey of perseverance and success paid off, in the "nick of time".

Raitt in 1989.

I was fortunate to see Raitt in October, 2023 when she came with her band to my hometown of London, Ontario, on her Just Like That Tour. The opening act was the Juno-nominated multi-instrumentalist, singer and songwriter Royal Wood.

Promotional photo for the London show of Raitt's tour.

It was a marvelous performance and I am so happy that we were able to attend with our good friends, Terry and Heather. As I watched, I couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that brought her to our town that night. Raitt’s story of perseverance is a valuable lesson for us all when we face adversity – whether it comes from without or within.

A photo I took at the October 5, 2023, curtain call for 

Raitt and Royal Wood and their bands

The 500 - #231 - A Night At The Opera - Queen

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #231
Album Title: A Night At The Opera
Artist: Queen
Genre: Rock, Progressive Rock, Pop, Avant-Pop
Recorded: Five Studios, London, U.K. 

Released: November, 1975
My age at release: 10
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 128, moving up 103 spots since 2012
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: '39

When I embarked on this writing journey five years ago (January, 2019) my biggest concern was writing about records of which I knew nothing. How would I "share a story or personal connection" to records I knew nothing about? If anything was going to derail this project, I thought it would be finding an engaging way to post something meaningful about records such as OutKast's Stankonia, Sound of Silver from LCD Soundsystem or 69 Love Songs from Magnetic Fields?

This isn't true. Discovering new music, I find, creates its own story. Sometimes, the inspiration comes during research or while listening to the accompanying episode of The 500 Podcast. On the other hand, familiarity can be overwhelming, leading to writer's block. Choices need to be made, such as where to start, and what information should be included in my post. Case in point: A Night At The Opera, the fourth studio record from British progressive rock band Queen.

Queen in 1975, (l-r) Roger Taylor, John Deacon,
Freddie Mercury and Brian May.

It's a feeling similar to the psychological phenomenon known as "The Tyranny of Choice", outlined in Barry Schwartz' book The Paradox Of Choice. Simply put, logic suggests that an individual provided with many options from which to choose would be happy. However, studies show that too many choices can actually lead to discomfort and even misery. That is, "Too many options make you feel like all of them are wrong and that you are wrong if you choose any of them". (Susan Orlean)

A Night at the Opera is a record that I have listened to hundreds of times. It is my favourite from their catalogue which is named after The Marx Brothers’ movie of the same name.  In 1985, my support for the band bordered on obsessiveness as I painstakingly collected every record from the group I could find.

Like most people of my vintage (Late Generation Jones, Early Generation X, born 1963-1970), I discovered Queen in elementary school. For me, it was the release of Queen's 1977 album, News Of The World which featured the single, We Are The Champions, with the B-side, We Will Rock You. Both were ubiquitous on radio stations. Many of my friends purchased the single, the album or both and collectively, we helped rocket Queen to the Canadian Top 10 that winter.

The first Queen record I acquired was The Game, released in 1980. I am surprised it is not on The 500 list. It was their biggest selling record, a critical success and featured five singles, including the monster hits Crazy Little Thing Called Love and Another One Bites The Dust.

Album cover The Game (1980).

The winter of 1985 wasn't a great one. I had dropped out of university after a disastrous start. I was working an assortment of mind-numbingly boring jobs. I was a custodian at a community centre and arena, as well clerking midnights at a Mac's Milk convenience store. Adding to my misery were three short-lived attempts at relationships, each failing heartbreakingly quicker than the last. Throughout it all, Queen was a big part of the soundtrack.

Mac's Milk logos through the decades. I worked around
the time of the middle one.

I'm not sure what supercharged my Queen fandom that year. I think it might have been a melancholy moment listening to Somebody To Love from their 1976 record A Day At The Races (another record with a title taken from a Marx Brothers' film). I was a bit of a hopeless romantic at the time -- which, in retrospect, hastened the collapse of those three ill-fated relationships. Regardless, I decided to take my sizable portion of disposable income (I was living at home) and invest in the entire Queen discography.

Album cover for A Day At The Races (1976).

By March, 1986, I owned every Queen record on vinyl and had recorded them to cassette for playing in my car and on my portable stereo player (A JVC version of a Walkman). There were twelve records, everything from their first self-titled release to their 1984 album, The Works, as well as the incredible 1979 concert record, Live Killers. I'd even tracked down the elusive Star Fleet Project record, a solo effort from Queen guitarist Brian May which also featured legendary axeman Eddie Van Halen. I wish I would have kept that one; it sells for over $50 on Ebay

Album Cover for Star Fleet Project from Brian May & Friends (1984).

There are many stories and trivia about Queen that  are all well documented. After all, Queen has had a global presence in pop culture and music for five decades and has sold 300 million records. Their singer, Freddie Mercury, and his powerful, four-octave vocal range, is often cited as the greatest frontman of all time. His life, and the story of Queen, was immortalized in the 2018 biopic Bohemian Rhapsody. The title was taken from the final track on A Night At The Opera album and has the distinction of being the only song to hit the top of the charts in three decades as it is discovered by a new generation of fans. It is also, currently, the most streamed song from the 20th Century.

Poster for the film Bohemian Rhapsody.

Despite the popularity of Bohemian Rhapsody, I selected the song 39, sung not by Mercury but by guitarist May, for my own The 500 Playlist. It is one of those deeper cuts that often found its way onto mixed cassettes I made for people in the ‘80s. The song tells the story of a group of space explorers who embark on an interstellar journey that, to them, seems to take a year.  However, due to the time dilation effect (proven in Einstein's special theory of relativity) they return to find their loved ones have grown old or died. May, who was fascinated by time travel, later completed his PhD thesis defence in astrophysics.

May graduating with his PhD in Astrophysics in 2007.

I can relate. My conventional time-travelling journey has taken me from adolescent fandom in 1976 to obsessive devotion in 1985 to a deep respect and a nostalgic love for Queen today. Relistening to anything from their catalogue transports me back in time and I can remember inhabiting the body of a confused and hopelessly romantic 20-year-old who thought he'd lost his way. He didn't. Life would be amazing by September, 1986, which I’ll get to with Paul Simon’s Graceland (#71 on The 500) in about three years.

"Don't you hear my call though you're many years away?
Don't you hear me calling you?
All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand
For my life
Still ahead
Pity me" 

39 Queen (1975)