Robert Christgau: Dean of American Rock Critics

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Xgau Sez

These are questions submitted by readers, and answered by Robert Christgau. New ones will appear in batches every third Tuesday.

To ask your own question, please use this form.

September 18, 2024

And It Don't Stop.

Consumer Guide music discovery, some subjects for further research, dancing to "Africa Dances," John and Faith Hubley, the hottest young male newcomer in the biz, and Geoffrey Stokes remembered.

[Q] I was wondering if you'd share how you choose the reviews for the Consumer Guide these days. You've mentioned that you don't get sent a lot of promos anymore. Do you rely on recommendations from friends, playlists, podcasts? -- Jim Testa, Weehawken, New Jersey.

[A] First, all caps because I've said it several times before: I DON'T LISTEN TO PODCASTS. The main reason being that I spend so much ear time listening to music, both for pleasure and for work. How I sort out Consumer Guide records is as it's long been—Spotify, somewhat dubious sound quality and all, means there's no need to send me physical product, although it does give anyone who does so a big leg up, because I play anything likely-looking as well as some but not all of the indie obscurities I still do get in the mail—that's how I discovered Claudia Gibson's Fields of Chazy a few months ago, although it's far more common for me to quit after two or three tracks. And I always scan the Pitchfork and Rolling Stone review sections. Plus I gossip with other music lovers amateur and professional: my sister Georgia for one, and it was Rob Sheffield who turned me on to Rosie Tucker some months ago. Most important, however, is that although he's not on my nonexistent masthead And It Don't Stop does have an overseer: my much-younger-than-me old friend and nearby neighbor Joe Levy, the great editor who persuaded me to give this Substack thing a try and is forever emailing me with tips without which I'd have trouble making my nine full reviews plus five briefs quota every month. Levy made And It Don't Stop happen and thereby changed my old age. How long it can last remains to be seen—I am truly not getting any younger. But I am in his debt, and so are my readers.

[Q] Obviously, you're a fan of great unique female voices. Dionne Warwick, Billie Holiday, and Ella Fitzgerald each have numerous albums on your website reviewed with high recommendations. So I'm curious why you've never reviewed any Peggy Lee or Dinah Washington albums. Surely there must be an album by each of them that you'd unequivocally recommend. Both crossed over from pop to jazz effortlessly and always sounded original and fabulous. My own favorites would be Peggy Lee's Black Coffee and Beauty and the Beat, and Dinah's Dinah Washington Sings the Fats Waller Songbook. You would love them all. -- Ted Ravern, Astoria, New York

[A] First of all, I don't put Warwick in Holiday's or Fitzgerald's class—take a look at my reviews and note that the Warwick picks are basically redundant greatest-hits albums I assume without doing the research were reviewed at different times. Second, I'd almost certainly add Dolly Parton to this short list, exactly how I won't figure out for free. Third, I was just mentioning Dinah Washington as a Subject for Further Research in a recent Xgau Sez and take this note as seconding that emotion. Fourth, checked my CD shelves and found a 2004 reissue of Black Coffee, the only Peggy Lee there though I bet a few are I've tucked away in my vinyl. Promise to play it at breakfast or dinner soon.

[Q] Hi Bob, I wanna thank you for putting me yet again onto a great African band (Africa Negra this time, with their second compilation). I discovered so much great African music through you I feel like I owe you a statue or something (will ask the city of Brussels if they're interested). So few music critics delve into and discuss African music. Why do you think that is? The language barrier seems like a very lame excuse, since in music the form is the content, as Borges says somewhere (I believe). What are we gonna have to do without you? All my best and hope you're doing well. -- Arthur Hendrikx, Brussels, Belgium.

[A] When I was a young jazz fan just out of college in 1962 I was already aware that most of my favorite music was made by African-Americans. So even back then I made it my occasional business to try to learn more about Africa. My research was sporadic to say the least, and I never became a big fan of Miriam Makeba, then the best-known African musician. But I never forgot that truism. As I've written before, the turning point came when I drove over to Brooklyn to have dinner with John Storm Roberts, a Brit who grew up in Kenya who was covering salsa for me, and he told me he'd released a superb DIY compilation of African pop hits called Africa Dances, which is still findable on Discogs. I loved and reviewed it instantly. By the late '70s other African music was being released in England, with King Sunny Ade an early beneficiary, and soon it was an vaguely defined subgenre, which as you say I've always kept my eyes and ears on. But what's struck me over the years is that seldom are lyrics a comprehensible part of the package, and also that the woman I married, who heard Africa Dances at the same time I did, is a much more skilled and enthusiastic dancer than I am, which in a rhythm music is a major factor. So there's a sense in which Carola augments my enthusiasm whenever she sashays around the dining room as an African album comes on.

[Q] Your recent review of Louis Armstrong and Oscar Peterson reminded me of the latter's contributions to two of my favorite short films—Begone Dull Care, with Peterson backing abstract animation by his fellow Canadians Norman McLaren and Evelyn Lambart, and The Tender Game, with Peterson accompanying Ella Fitzgerald on "Tenderly" in the service of a cartoonishly arty love story. Then I got to wondering if you'd checked out the work of John and Faith Hubley, the married animators of The Tender Game (and parents of Yo La Tengo co-founder Georgia). Besides Fitzgerald and Peterson, other musicians who worked on their films include Dizzy Gillespie (several times), Lionel Hampton, Benny Carter, Harry "Sweets" Edson, and Quincy Jones. They even recorded Louis Armstrong (!) and Frank Sinatra (!!) along with Fitzgerald and Peterson for an ill-fated version of Finian's Rainbow. The Hubleys also used recordings of their children at play (including Georgia) as cartoon soundtracks.

[A] These all sound like good movies and I'll try to keep an eye out for them. As for the Hubleys, the only film of theirs in my recall memory is Moonbird, a basically humorous 1959 kiddie animation that completely charmed me when it came out. I believe I saw it as a short at the Fifth Avenue Cinema. Even at 17 I was a complete sucker for little ones like those who dominate this film. Regrettably, they do not include Georgia, who was not born yet. To which I should add that it was my pleasure to see Georgia and Ira (and James McNew too) at a house show last Tuesday, where everyone in the audience paid for their seat by writing a rather large check to the Harris-Walz ticket.

[Q] In your review of Zach Bryan's The Great American Bar Scene, you comment: "But losing his money to a bookie or calculating the distance between his beating heart and the bullshit on late-night TV, noting that the only outlaw he ever met was in the Marines with him, inviting John Mayer onboard as if he's doing him a favor although Springsteen is obviously a different story, wondering whether God is a person or the sound of laughter in a place he's yet to find, he's self-evidently a country singer who'll be around so long he'll eventually be too big for the category." My question is specific to the Springsteen remark ("obviously a different story")—what IS that story? Because when I saw this collaboration I was struck—Zach Bryan is a relatively newcomer (and yes, a talented writer) with six records in the last five years. I'm puzzled by the collaboration and wondered if you had any insight. -- Michelle Barnett, Ann Arbor

[A] Without an iota of reporting to back me up, I would assume that at this juncture newly crowned Jerry Garcia fill-in Mayer can use an extra shot shot of the hottest young male newcomer in the biz and might even have angled for one. I also assume that superstar Springsteen is both impressed and just plain decent enough to be happy indeed to hitch his wagon up with Bryan's when it's convenient for both.

[Q] You had the pleasure of working with Geoffrey Stokes at the VV. As far as I can tell, there was no one else like him at the Voice—maybe even at any publication. This guy wrote about music, the press, hard news, sports, and food! (Pretty sure Liebling didn't write about music.) What kind of guy was he and do you have any interesting stories about him? I just think the guy doesn't get his due. -- Steven Ward, Jackson, Mississippi

[A] Stokes was one of my best friends at the Voice. He lived just a few blocks from me on East 10th Street and as the generalist you describe liked to say: "You want a ham sandwich? I'll give you a ham sandwich. You want cheese on that? I'll put cheese on it." Politically he was a staunch left liberal with no radical pretensions—I believe he worked in city government for a while. We once spent half an hour rewriting his The Phlorescent Leech and Eddie review so that we could legitimately obey the silly heds-must-have-a-verb rule so as to call it "Flo and Eddie Flow and Eddy." Eventually he moved to Vermont, and by sheer luck I decided to give him a call from my sister's summer place. He'd had cancer and told me he was headed down to Boston the next day for surgery that would fix him up. Instead it killed him, making me the last Voicer to exchange words with him. He was deeply missed and for some of us remains so.