The 500 - #130 - Marquee Moon - Television

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-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: #130
Album Title: Marquee Moon
Artist: Television
Genre: Art Punk, Rock, New Wave, Garage Rock
Recorded: A & R Recording Studios, New York City, New York
Released: February, 1977
My age at release: 11
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #107, rising 23 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Marquee Moon

Back in January, 2019, when I committed to this long, winding blogging journey through Rolling Stone magazine's The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, I did what any curious music lover would do: I skimmed through the entire list to see whether some of my personal favourites had earned a place, and I was especially eager to find out what cracked the Top 20.

As I made my way through the rankings, I felt a spark of excitement each time I spotted a beloved record. There was Rage Against the Machine’s explosive debut and Peter Gabriel’s visionary record, So. Then. I spotted Elton John’s lavish, autobiographical masterpiece, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, and the genre-bending, theatrical opulence of A Night At The Opera from Queen. So eager was I to work through the list that many of these future blog posts were mapped out in my head months in advance.

Album jackets for four of my favourite records on The 500 list.

However, just as thrilling were the albums I didn’t know -- the ones that were destined to become new obsessions. These included Look-Ka Py Py by The Meters, The Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs, Manu Chao’s Próxima Estación: Esperanza, and Stankonia from OutKast. These four musical revelations, as well as many others, regularly earn a spot on my weekend playlists.

Album jackets for four, of many, new records I have discovered.

And then there was Marquee Moon, the debut album from Television, legends of the 1970s New York rock scene. Its reputation loomed large, and it had been sitting on my “I really should listen to this” list for years. Somehow, I let opportunities slip by. Last week, I seized the chance, and it delivered in spades. Marquee Moon not only lived up to its towering legacy; it reminded me exactly why I started this project in the first place.

Television are (l-r) Billy Ficca, Richard Lloyd, Tom Verlaine & Fred Smith

Back in 1973, two high school chums from Delaware, Tom Verlaine and Richard Hell, landed in New York City with big dreams and a couple of guitars. Before Television, they were a proto-punk/garage rock band called The Neon Boys, featuring Verlaine on vocals and guitar, Hell on bass, and Billy Ficca pounding the drums.

Album jacket for a single's release by The Neon Boys.

In March, 1973, guitarist Richard Lloyd was added and with him came the name Television, which I've recently learned was a nifty pun on the phrase "tell a vision". The group played their first gig as Television at The Townhouse Theatre, an 88-seat venue in midtown Manhattan. By 1975, Hell was out of the group and Fred Smith replaced him on bass. The group had secured a residency at the famed Bowery dive bar, CBGB's where they performed multiple sets, several nights a week, sharing the stage with other rising acts (also on The 500 list) including Patti Smith (#44), Blondie (#140), The New York Dolls (#215) The Modern Lovers (#381).

On stage at CBGB's Club in the Bowery area of Manhattan.

It is difficult to summarize Television's sound. They are often dubbed a garage band or post punk act. However, those descriptions are limited.  Unlike the blunt-force punk sound that was exploding  around them, Television played with more precision, favouring clean tones, intricate interplay, and a touch of jazz cool. It has been described as 'punk in attitude, but not in sound'. Verlaine and Lloyd didn’t just play riffs, they wove musical phrases like a conversation. Instead of power chords and distortion, they used clean tones, intricate voicings, and melodic tension, creating something radically different.

Verlaine, Lloyd and Smith on stage creating their signature guitar sound.

Marquee Moon landed like a lightning strike and was applauded by critics and revered by musicians. It was eight tracks of angular beauty that rewrote the rules for what a guitar band could be. The ten-minute title track absolutely wowed me and I couldn't wait to share it with my wife on our weekend drive to the cottage. At a time when many bands were chasing speed and aggression on their guitars, Verlaine and Lloyd were exploring clarity and, like jazz musicians before them, the spaces in between the notes.

Album jacket for Television's second release, Adventure.

Television lasted for only one more year, disbanding over creative differences in 1978 following the release of their second record, Adventure. They reunited in 1991 for a third, self-titled release. This reconnection was short lived, but their influence and impact were already monumental. Legendary acts scattered across The 500 list cite Television as an influence including REM, Sonic Youth, The Strokes, Echo and The Bunnymen, The Pixies, U2, Wilco, Joy Division and The Red Hot Chili Peppers. In the end, they truly "told a vision", and the world perked up and listened. I sure did.

The 500 - #291 - Talking Heads: 77 - Talking Heads

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: #291

Album Title: Talking Heads: 77

Artist: Talking Heads

Genre: New Wave, Art Rock

Recorded: Sundragon Studios, New York

Released: September, 1977

My age at release: 12

How familiar was I with it before this week: Somewhat

Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Uh-Oh, Love Comes To Town

The debut record by Talking Heads, Talking Heads 77, is the third of four records by the New York-based, new wave group on The 500 list. In February, 2021, I wrote about their sophomore release, More Songs About Buildings And Food, and provided a brief history of the band. In November of the same year, my pal, Steve Sullivan, wrote about their live release, Stop Making Sense, from their film of the same name.

Although it was recorded and released in the summer of 1977 (hence its name, Talking Heads: 77), the group had been working on the material for more than two years. The former art school students had been perfecting their sound and honing their chops at clubs in the Lower East Side area of New York City. They were frequently on stage at the now legendary club CBGB, a dive bar on Bowery Street in the East Village. The club's full name was CBGB & OMFUG, the initials for Country, Blue Grass, Blues & Other Music For Uplifting Gormandizers. A gormandizer is an individual who has a gluttonous appetite, in this case for music. It is borrowed from the 15th Century French noun "gormant", a person with a hearty appetite for good food, drink and celebration.

CBGB Club in the mid-seventies

Opened in 1973 by musician Hillel (Hilly) Kristal, the original vision for the former biker club was rather sedate. Kristal hoped to provide a venue for folk, country and blues acts as well as a space for poetry readings. However over time, Kristal began to book more conventional rock bands as well as more experimental performers who dabbled in art-rock and a stripped down, garage band sound that evolved into the New York punk rock scene.

Kristal outside CBGB in the mid-seventies

Talking Heads played their first gig as the opening act for the Ramones on June 5, 1975. Among the six songs played at that inaugural gig was the song Psycho Killer, a track that became the group's first single, just cracking the Billboard Top 100 at position #92 in December, 1977. Psycho Killer remains one of the group's best known songs. Currently, it tops their Spotify list with more than 326 million plays, and it was added to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame's list of 500 Songs That Shaped Rock and Roll in 2015.

It remains one of my favourite Talking Head songs, particularly the acoustic version that opens the film Stop Making Sense, featuring singer and guitarist David Byrne on a bare stage accompanied by a drum loop played on a portable cassette player.

Byrne playing Psycho Killer in the film Stop Making Sense

The lyrics seem to represent the thoughts of a serial killer. The song and its subject matter created some controversy because it coincided with the notorious Son of Sam murders that terrorized New York City residents between late 1975 and the summer of 1977 when the perpetrator, David Berkowitz, was arrested.

Berkowitz (Son of Sam Killer) shortly after his arrest

The band has maintained that the song had no inspiration from the horrific killings. In his book, Talking Heads: Once In A Lifetime, The Story Behind Every Song, writer Ian Gittens said the release of the single was simply a case of "macabre synchronicity". This makes sense; the group was performing the song on stage before Berkowitz's first murder, the Christmas Eve stabbing of an unidentified Hispanic woman and 15-year-old high school sophomore Michelle Forman.

While looking up the history of Talking Heads, the story I found most humorous took place during the formative years at the CBGB club. Searching for advice, they visited the apartment of Lou Reed, the legendary singer, songwriter and guitarist for Velvet Underground. Among the suggestions Reed offered was for Byrne to wear long-sleeved shirts on stage because "his arms were too hairy for the audience to look at".

Lou Reed (left) with Talking Head members Tina Weymouth 
and Chris Frantz, backstage at CBGBs

Reed's suggestion struck me as incongruent with the mid-seventies New York music scene. Imagine, at a time when experimental art rock and the DIY punk rock aesthetic were on the rise, the avant-garde, gender-bending, glam rocker Reed felt the need to tell Byrne his hirsute forearms were a commercial deal breaker.

Regardless, the advice seems to have been taken to heart. A Google Image search of David Byrne generates hundreds of photographs of the lanky singer performing in long-sleeved shirts and suits.

A long-sleeved Byrne on stage with Talking Heads

CBGBs closed after a final celebratory concert, featuring Patti Smith, in October, 2006. I was fortunate to visit the original location in the summer of 2004 on my first trip to New York City. I only took one photo (below) but I did get a CBGB t-shirt that I wore until it was a threadbare rag at the bottom of my hockey bag.

CBGB - August, 2004