Manchester Musical Tour: This One Goes to 11

Part 1
"Oh Manchester, So much to answer for"
-Steven Patrick Morrissey

The journey begins on an Aer Lingus jet bound for Dublin. From there, it's a short hop to Manchester, home to so many of my favorite bands. I'm gearing up by watching -- for the I-don't-know-how-many'th- time "24 Hour Party People", the love letter to Anthony Wilson, Factory Records, Joy Division, the Happy Mondays and the city of Manchester itself.

Actually, the journey began in a suburban Pennsylvania bedroom some thirty years prior, with a stack of cassette tapes by the likes of The Smiths, New Order and later the Stone Roses and The Fall. Without knowing it, I've had a love affair with Manchester since I discovered the city's music. My expectations for my first visit were high, as were my fears it could never live up to the hype.

I didn't sleep on that flight to Dublin -- I don't sleep well on planes. And as I shuffled across the tarmac and up the stairs for the second leg of the trip, my anticipation only grew. I helped it along with a tailor-made soundtrack: Sitting on the plane before takeoff I played "Suffer Little Children" by the Smiths; when the engines fired up for takeoff it was "Crystal" by New Order.

The flight across the Irish Sea was a bumpy one, but as England came into view, I went for the obvious song: The Fall's "Hit the North". The green fields of Northwest England were accompanied by PJ Harvey's "Last Living Rose" and "England" (No, she's not from Manchester.) And as the skyline of Manchester against the backdrop of the Pennines unfolded below me, it was time to get serious: "The Reverend Black Grape" by Black Grape, the band I would be seeing the following night. But let's not get ahead of ourselves... I had only just arrived.

Part 2
"And on the Sixth Day, God created Manchester"

The sign greets you as you take your first steps out of Manchester Piccadilly station. It's clear this town thinks rather highly of itself. That Mancunian swagger likely contributed to the city being such a fertile breeding ground for rock and roll bands. After two plane rides, a train ride (for which I initially bought the wrong ticket) and no sleep, I had to dig deep for the energy to see for myself. My brother -- who arrived from the states two days prior -- met me and we were off. And for Neville and me -- in the musical equivalent of Disneyland -- our first thought was records.

We were staying near the Northern Quarter, a hip, artsy part of town that retains some grit and edge. One of our first stops was Vinyl Exchange, and things got weird really fast. As we pawed through used Fall records, we found a couple of things that caught our eyes. When we went to the counter, the guy told us - sotto voce - that most of the used Fall stuff actually came from Mark E Smith's personal collection. Smith died earlier this year, and his sister has been clearing out his house. The bloke behind the counter said that when she needs extra money, she sells them some of his old vinyl. Neville bought as much as he could, and I came away with a 45 of "C.R.E.E.P." and a great story to tell.

In the aftermath of that experience, I wondered whether the guy at the record shop was putting us on. Could those records really have once belonged to Mark E Smith?  The record shop guy seemed earnest, and he wasn't crowing about the MES connection, so we took him at his word. And he wasn't the only person that day that would leave us slack jawed.

A few minutes later -- in the vintage shopping emporium Afflecks -- we met a shop owner who used to work the door in the early days of the Hacienda. She confirmed that the nightclub -- which later put Manchester on the map -- was largely empty back then. It was beginning to feel like everyone we met had a connection to the music we were there to celebrate.


Part 3
"This is Manchester. We do things differently here"
-Tony Wilson

Mural of Tony Wilson in the Northern Quarter

Most cities honor their political leaders, maybe their titans of industry. Manchester does all of that, but it holds a special reverence for its creative thinkers. There is a mural of Tony Wilson, founder of Factory Records, on an electric substation in the Northern Quarter. A series of murals on the corner of Tib Street and Short Street commemorate Wilson and his Factory Records partners, as well as Mark E Smith. The words "I wanna be adored" hang from a building in the city centre. I have a lot of respect for a city that holds its musical heroes - my musical heroes - in such high esteem.

Affleck's -- the vintage emporium -- even had a Tony Wilson Wall. And it was painted to look like the Hacienda. Hashtag #WilsonWall.

We left the Northern Quarter and walked to the Central Library, in the heart of the city. In the library's music wing (yes, the library has a music wing, with instruments you can play. IN THE LIBRARY!) they were holding an exhibition called "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out: A Photographic Celebration of Manchester's Rock-music History." It features intimate photos of Joy Division, The Smiths, The Fall, The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays, among others. The library also hosts an excellent collection of books about music, with a special emphasis -- of course -- on the music of Manchester.

Three bookcases at the Central Library filled with books about Manchester music.

The Manchester Free Trade Hall

Not far from the library is the Free Trade Hall. In 1976, in front of a few dozen people, the Sex Pistols played their first show in Manchester. It was a small gig -- in an upstairs room -- but it would redefine music as we know it today. That's because among those forty or so people in the crowd were future members of the Fall, The Smiths, Durutti Column and Joy Division. The Pistols pointed the way; the youth of Manchester did the rest. As for the Free Trade Hall, it's now a fancy hotel.


Part 4
Twenty-Four Hour Party People

Manchester is a compact, walkable city. So the fact that we hadn't yet visited the site of the Hacienda was easily remedied by a ten-minute walk to the south. The Hacienda was formerly a yacht showroom, a cavernous place that failed to draw crowds in its early years. But by the late 1980s, the Hacienda was the world's most famous nightclub, home to rave and acid music, the Madchester scene and the birthplace of DJ culture. By the 1990s, drugs and gangs took over and the club was shut down. It's since been demolished and an apartment block stands in its place. If you haven't already done so, please watch the movie.

Above and below left: The Hacienda Apartments, where the Hacienda nightclub once stood.

Just across Whitworth Street from the Hacienda is Tony Wilson Place, yet another example of this city paying homage to its creative class. And on Tony Wilson Place is HOME, an arts and events space featuring a cinema, two restaurants and a shop. After browsing the shop and admiring greeting cards featuring caricatures of Shaun Ryder and Mark E Smith, we sat down for pizza. When the bill came, we started talking to the waiter about Tony Wilson. Once again, things got weird. The waiter, a lovely guy named Paul, told us he was in a band in the 1980s that had three EPs on Factory Records. His band, the Jazz Defektors, wasn't one we'd heard of, but he said he was friends with more famous Manchester musicians including A Certain Ratio and New Order. He even said had he known ahead of time we were coming, he could have gotten us autographed merchandised or -- gasp -- arranged a night out with New Order's Peter Hook or Stephen Morris. Once again, our jaws dropped. This was becoming a pattern. We exchanged contact information and hope to make it happen one day.

We finished the night with a trip to the pedestrian bridge over the Princess Road, made famous by Kevin Cummins' iconic photographs of Joy Division.

We took our own photos on the bridge. It was night and there was no snow and we didn't have the right lens and my leg is bent for no good reason.

Part 5
"I couldn't figure out whether he was from Salford or uhh Manchester."
-Mark E Smith

My second full day in Manchester began with a long walk to Salford, the traditionally working-class sister city across the River Irwell. I had the Fall's "Cheetham Hill" in my head as we crossed the river, but we weren't there for the Fall. We were there to find the Salford Lads Club, on Coronation Street, made famous by the Smiths on the inside photo of their 1986 album The Queen is Dead.

The Lads Club is an unassuming brick building at the end of a stretch of row houses, and -- as it was Friday -- it was closed. So we hung around for a bit until two other musical tourists showed up and helped us recreate the Smiths image. Here I am playing the role of Johnny Marr to Neville's Morrissey (and I'm conveniently wearing a Johnny Marr T-shirt.)

On the walk to Salford, we stopped by Fopp, a two-story shop selling books, CDs, DVDs and other fun stuff. They were having a sale on music books -- two for £10 -- so I got a book on Factory records and another on the Stone Roses. Score.

Part 6
"Oh Come All Ye Faithful
Joyful and Triumphant
Come Gather Round
As I blow my own trumpet"
-Shaun William Ryder

By 4pm it was dark and we were on a train to Liverpool. We were heading to the birthplace of the Beatles to see Shaun Ryder's Black Grape, the band he formed with Kermit of Ruthless Rap Assassins after the dissolution of Happy Mondays. We were taking the 40-minute train ride to Liverpool to see a proper Manchester band. Go figure.

Before we went to the O2 Academy, we tooled around Mathew Street, home of the Cavern Club (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) and countless Beatles cover bands. It felt like visiting a wax museum, and we didn't stay long.

Liverpool's Mathew Street, a Beatles theme park.

We did, however, find this plaque marking the site of Eric's, the nightclub where another Liverpool band -- Echo and the Bunnymen -- got their start:

And we found a shop called Resurrection that was selling pretty much every Stone Roses T-Shirt imaginable. As Nev put it, some people get matching tattoos on vacation... we got matching Stone Roses shirts.

We headed to the O2 Academy, but between a driving rain and an opening act that sounded like Limp Bizkit, I was feeling pretty dour. But out came Kermit and Shaun, and a wave of energy swept through the intimate venue. We had parked ourselves in the front, mere feet from Manchester royalty, with an unimpeded view of Ryder's every gesture, every utterance, and every wrinkle. The man has not aged well. Never mind, he sounded great.

And at the end of the show, I had a true rock and roll moment as the lead guitarist soloed right in front of me. I took a selfie that another fan later called "cheeky". Thanks to Sharon for the video!

After the show, I even got the guitar pick -- thrown into the crowd and scooped up by a bloke next to me who, upon hearing I had come from New York, gave it to me. What a nice gesture -- one of many random acts of kindness we witnessed in Northwest England. Well done, mates.


Part 7
"Don't walk away in silence, don't walk away"
-Ian Curtis

Saturday was our last day together in Manchester, so naturally we rented a car and headed off for the Southern Cemetery. Who doesn't? We were there to see the graves of two important Mancunians: the aforementioned Anthony Wilson and record producer Martin Hannett, who contributed mightily to the sound of Joy Division and a host of other Factory bands. Hannett's grave was easy enough to find, despite its lower profile.

Wilson's grave took awhile because it wasn't where we thought it would be. It was in a very prominent position in the center of the cemetery. I wanted to see myself in the tombstone.

Wilson's tombstone was designed by Peter Saville, the graphic artist behind most of the iconic Factory Record covers (including the New Order catalog). On it, Wilson is described as a broadcaster and cultural catalyst. As we paid our respects, we played Durutti Column's haunting and disjointed "In Memory of Anthony".

Here's the Durutti Column song "In Memory of Anthony" in its entirety:

Then it was onward to Macclesfield, where Joy Division's Ian Curtis was born, lived much of his life, and ultimately committed suicide. The rowhouse where he died is on a bleak stretch of Barton Street, but notice the green foothills of the Pennines off in the distance.

Ian Curtis's home in Macclesfield, left foreground

At the town cemetery, we struggled to find Curtis's gravestone. That's because it had been stolen. All that remains is a low-slung stone marked with his name and the words Love Will Tear Us Apart.

Behind it, fans have created a makeshift shrine of flowers, notes and photos.

It only seemed fitting to end our visit to Curtis's grave listening to Joy Division's "Atmosphere".

Part 8

"I think I did the right thing by slipping away, yeah

And the ache that's making me ache has gone for the day."

-Shaun William Ryder

The gloom of the cemetery tour didn't weigh us down for long. We wanted a taste of the countryside, so we left Macclesfield on a road that climbed into the Peak District, with sweeping views of fields of sheep. We were headed for Buxton, the highest market town in England with no musical connection, or so we thought.

Buxton, about an hour outside of Manchester near the Peak District

Buxton is nestled among the hills, with a lively shopping district. We had a look around, bought some trinkets and took a chance on a road leading out of town. It took us right past Vinyl Coda, a small record store and cafe with terrific stock. The shopowner -- a slight man named Neil McDonald -- was playing Grant Lee Buffalo, which seemed odd to hear in England. We struck up a conversation and he told us HIS band once opened for Grant Lee Buffalo in Sheffield. He had been the guitarist in Puressence, a 1990s outfit that was produced by Mani of Stone Roses had three LPs on Island Records. He had left the band and now Buxton was home. I felt good purchasing a copy of "Blue Monday" in its floppy disk packaging, as well as a Happy Mondays "Lazyitis" single with Scottish singer Karl Denver. If you're not familiar, this live video for "Lazyitis" pretty much sums it up -- a young Shaun Ryder, an aging Karl Denver and the inimitable Bez, dancing and shaking his maracas.

Yes, Lennon and McCartney got songwriting credit for the snippet that's based on "Ticket to Ride".

By the way, I snapped this picture of Bez's maracas mounted on the wall at another Manchester record shop, the Northern Quarter's Vinyl Revival.

Back in Manchester that night, I walked aimlessly through crowds of holiday revelers in the city's extensive Christmas Markets. Among the items for sale: Happy Mondays and Stone Roses onesies.

And in a town that takes its music seriously, even the Christmas market buskers had talent.

Part 10

"Some of the crowd are on the pitch

They think it's all over and it is now"

-Kenneth Wolstenholme, BBC

Later used by New Order in "World in Motion"

I made a detour off the music path to visit the National Football Museum. It was Derby Day in Manchester -- City v. United -- so it felt like the right thing to do. And thanks to a great project called Bands FC, music followed me there, too.

Bands FC combines band logos with the logos of football (soccer) teams. My favorites were Stone Roses FC and The Fall FC.

Upstairs in the museum, I found an automated puppet, inviting me to "have a laugh with the jolly goalie." So I did.

Part 11

"There is a light that never goes out"

-The Smiths

My last full day in Manchester was Sunday, Remembrance Day, on the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I. To say Britons took the occasion seriously is an understatement: Virtually everyone, young and old, were wearing poppy pins to commemorate the anniversary. The bells of Manchester Cathedral rang out to mark the armistice for what felt like an interminably long time. Here's just a bit of it:

Even the pub where I watched the Manchester Derby between City and United fell silent as "For the Fallen" was read over the TV screens. That really touched me, as it would never happen in the States. 

And that was the biggest takeaway from this trip. Set aside the bands, the music, the swagger -- people were genuinely kind to us and to each other. The people we met were easy to talk to, they went out of their way to help us, and yes -- it seemed everyone of a certain age had a connection to Factory or the Hacienda or to the music that we had come so far to celebrate. Manchester is a proud city, and rightly so: Proud of its history, its heritage, and most importantly its music. I know one day I'll get back, but for now, I'm better off knowing that such a place exists in this world.

Day 10 - Paul's Boutique by The Beastie Boys

Day 10 of 10 – My all time favorite albums that are STILL in rotation, in no particular order. This was tough. Limiting my list to ten meant some great records would be left out, some feathers would be ruffled, and some feelings hurt. I grappled with a number of options for this slot, including the 1994 gem “Parklife” by Blur, Public Enemy’s “It Takes a Nation of Millions…”, “Pills 'n' Thrills and Bellyaches” by the Happy Mondays, “Mali Music” by Damon Albarn, "Marquee Moon" by Television, the debut from Johnny Marr and Bernard Sumner’s Electronic as well as albums by Wire, Super Furry Animals, Guided by Voices, Pavement and the New Pornographers, all of which have played major roles in my listening life. But ultimately, they all finished on the outside looking in. That’s because when I really thought about albums I love, albums that have stayed with me over the years, albums I still listen to, albums I still know all the words to, albums that inhabit strange corners of my brain, the choice was clear: It’s 1989’s Paul’s Boutique by Beastie Boys.

Much like yesterday’s choice, this is a repeat pick – John Cari included it earlier on his list. But in keeping with the spirit of this exercise, I figured that cannot and should not be grounds for excluding it from mine. But like a lot of people, I ignored Paul’s Boutique when it first came out, foolishly relegating the Beasties to one hit wonder status after the unprecedented commercial success of License to Ill. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Five years later, I picked up a used cassette of Paul’s Boutique at a record store (that’s no longer there) in Auburn, Alabama. (Why Auburn? I was driving around the South looking for my first job in television news.) And all it took was the opening drum roll of “Shake Your Rump” to hook me: Paul’s Boutique never left my cassette deck of my ’87 Honda Accord for the rest of my trip.

There are so many things that make Paul’s Boutique great. The wordplay and name-checking show Ad-Rock, Mike D and MCA at their fun-loving best. (Where else can you find references to Sadaharu Oh, Chuck Woolery and Vincent Van Gogh? And that’s just on “Hey Ladies”). The stew of pop culture references presaged our post-modern culture – for better or worse. But what makes this record really stand out is that it can never be done again: The Beasties and their producers the Dust Brothers sampled more than a hundred songs, sounds and snippets to create this sonic masterpiece. Two years later, a landmark copyright case would change sampling rules forever. The rich sound collage that provides the backbone of Paul’s Boutique would become unattainable to future hip hop artists. 

Day 9 - Ocean Rain by Echo and the Bunnymen

Day 9 of 10 in no particular order: My 10 all-time favorite albums that are STILL in my regular rotation. As I've gone through this process I realized my choices -- while in no particular order -- are in tiers. And there are about four records that I could rightfully include in the 9 or 10 slots, which means -- much to John Cari's chagrin -- I will be forced to exclude some great albums. I toyed with the idea of getting crazy with this pick, but I have approached this exercise honestly, and with that in mind, my choice today is Ocean Rain by Echo and the Bunnymen. Darius Gambino offered a nice write-up on the album in one of his earlier posts -- it certainly was a record that he and I bonded over back in the day. But it's stayed with me from the 80s and it still gets more play on my turntable than any other Bunnymen record. Maybe that's because it's just so warm and lush -- maybe it's because the songs are like old friends. Maybe it's because every time I've seen Echo and the Bunnymen in concert, the songs I looked forward to hearing are ones from this album: "Seven Seas", "The Killing Moon", "Silver", "Crystal Days" and, of course, perennial set closer "Ocean Rain". I was even lucky enough -- along with Kate Premo -- to see Echo and the Bunnymen play Ocean Rain in its entirety at Radio City Music Hall in 2008, complete with a 16-piece orchestra. We got our credit card scammed by our cab driver on the way home to Brooklyn, but that was a small price to pay for an album as good as Ocean Rain.

Day 8 - London Calling by The Clash

Day 8 of 10, and nearing the finish line of my 10 all-time favorite albums that are STILL in rotation, even if only now and again. John Cari and Darius Gambino have offered a couple of surprises along the way, but my offering today will come as no surprise. It's "London Calling" by The Clash. Predictable? Yes. Worthy? Absolutely. It's been a favorite of mine since my brother brought it home in the early 80s. Hearing the Clash for the first time was like lightning had struck the Harson household, which until then was dominated by 1970s progressive rock. London Calling veers from punk to reggae, ska and dub -- offering a suburban kid like me an early entree into those genres.

London Calling is a sprawling double-album, something of an oddity for the get-to-the-point ethos of punk rock. But right off the bat, the point is made -- sharply and loudly -- with a martial beat and searing guitars building into a full frontal assault against war, police brutality, nuclear power, even climate change on the title track before it peters out with a Morse code signal spelling "S.O.S." The album's second track, a cover of 1959's "Brand New Cadillac", introduces rockabilly and by the end of side one -- the classic "Rudie Can't Fail", we're full on into ska.

Side Two may be the most accessible -- kicking off with "Spanish Bombs", a pop-rocker about the lingering effects of the Spanish Civil War. The swinging "The Right Profile" is about the troubled life of Montgomery Clift, while the poppy "Lost in the Supermarket" is the first Mick Jones contribution to the album. The side finishes strong -- and darkly -- with "Clampdown", another song that sounds right at home in the almost authoritarian era of 2018. The side closes with the reggae-tinged "The Guns of Brixton", penned and sung by bassist Paul Simonon.

All that and we're only halfway through.

The headliner on Side Three is "Death or Glory", about rock stars who swore they would die before growing old. Ironically, Joe Strummer ended up with that lot -- dying suddenly in 2002 at the age of 50. And the final side features "I'm Not Down" and "Train in Vain", two more radio-friendly offerings from Mick Jones.

London Calling clearly needs no introduction: It is a bona fide classic that has topped many a reviewer's best of list. It has played a major role in my life -- from childhood to college and into adulthood. And -- perhaps most importantly and most sadly -- the themes it dealt with in 1979 are just as relevant today.

Day 7 - Let England Shake by PJ Harvey

Day 7 of 10: My all time favorite albums that are STILL in rotation. And now things are getting interesting. I promised John Cari and Darius Gambino a surprise, and today I'm going with a choice that might not be familiar to a lot of people. It's 2011's stunning album "Let England Shake" by PJ Harvey. I can honestly say it's easily my favorite record of the last decade (if not longer) and it rightfully belongs on this list as I continue to listen to it and absorb its mastery regularly. 

"Let England Shake", Harvey's eighth studio album, is a dramatic yet mature effort, steeped in influences ranging from folk, rock, world and dance music and chock full of arresting moments that have the potential to shock the listener into silence. Harvey handles serious themes like war and the effect it has on society, and the result is jaw-droppingly good.

Harvey's eerie vocals on the title track set the tone for the album, and - with the opening words of "The Last Living Rose", the album's magnificent second track - you know you're witnessing something extraordinary. When I first heard this track I played it something like 30 times in a row and kept discovering more. And yet it's just an appetizer: The track's tortured vocals hint that something is seriously amiss in Harvey's England, and as the album soldiers on, more and more clues are revealed.

Mike Williams of NME wrote: "Francis Ford Coppola can lay claim to the war movie. Ernest Hemingway the war novel. Polly Jean Harvey, a 41-year-old from Dorset, has claimed the war album." And that's evident by track three, "The Glorious Land", whose call to arms is punctuated by a bugle's call.

There are so many highlights here: The sad beauty of "England", with its other-worldly horns and chant; the haunting "In the Dark Places" straightforward rock of "Bitter Branches"; the ambitious "Written on the Forehead" convincingly mixes Middle-eastern themes with gospel. The album culminates with "The Color of the Earth", on which Harvey and her bandmates join together for a traditional-sounding folk song about a soldier's tragic end during the Gallipoli campaign of World War I, a stark reminder -- nearly a century later -- of the reality of war.

As I revisit the tracks on this album for this post, I just keep muttering to no one in particular "Damn this is incredible." Harvey has managed to paint a rich picture of her home country -- a nation born, consumed and ravaged by battle -- at a critical moment in history; it's a powerful statement ten years after the start of the war in Afghanistan. But despite the horrors contained within, this is a deeply rewarding record and I encourage everyone to give it a listen. 

PS - "Let England Shake" is a visual album -- so much so that the filmmaker Seamus Murphy supplied a short film for all 12 tracks and they're worth watching too!

Day 6 - Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division

Day 6 of 10: My all time favorite albums that are STILL in rotation. It's "Unknown Pleasures" by Joy Division. There's a reason you still see people wearing t-shirts with the cover art of this album everywhere you go: It's because musically and culturally, this album represented a major shift. Joy Division - previously Warsaw - started out as just another punk band when they formed in 1976. But from the first thwack of Stephen Morris's drums to that high, compact bass riff from Peter Hook, the opening track "Disorder" represented something alien for the times. Add in Bernard Sumner's crisp guitar line and then -- boom -- Ian Curtis arrives with a line that spoke to a generation of lost souls: "I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand." A musical revolution was born, thanks in no small part to the production of the mercurial genius Martin Hannett. (For reference, see this scene in 24 Hour Party People https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90j6V8EjSuI or the story of how Hannett forces Morris to record one drum strike at a time in order to make his beat.)

Unknown Pleasures travels through this alien soundscape and includes more dystopian classics like "Shadowplay" and "She's Lost Control". The sad triumphalism of "Love Will Tear Us Apart" would come later in the band’s tragically short lifetime, as would its metamorphosis to experimentation in electronica as New Order after Curtis's suicide. But Unknown Pleasures signaled a singer -- and a band -- with something different to say -- something echoed through the decades that followed in other post-punk and goth bands.

Unknown Pleasures shows that music could be paradoxically bleak and beautiful, all while lacking none of the ferocity and power of hard rock. You'd be forgiven if you were inclined to meekly play this in a dark basement somewhere, but Unknown Pleasures sounds best and deserves to be played loud.

Day 5 - The Queen is Dead by The Smiths

Day 5 of 10: My all time favorite albums that are STILL in rotation. And that's the key, really. And that's why this one is a no brainer. It's 1986's "The Queen is Dead" by The Smiths... perfect then... and perfect today. John Cari and Darius Gambino I look forward to your next choices. Was there some sort of wedding in London this morning or something?

(Originally posted on May 19)

Updated July 25

The Queen is Dead deserves far more than a quick Facebook post on the day of the Royal Wedding. After all, The Smiths are perhaps the singular band of the 1980s, their influence felt -- and heard -- in the three decades (!) that followed. Johnny Marr is still making compelling music; unfortunately the same can't always be said about Morrissey. In any event, 1986's The Queen is Dead marked the band's high-water mark.

Side 1 kicks off with the title track, which begins with a head fake -- the World War I era music hall singalong  "Take Me to Dear Old Blighty". It lasts all of seventeen seconds, just long enough to hold your interest before being blown away by Mike Joyce's driving drumbeat of the "The Queen is Dead", the most rocking song in the Smiths' catalog. For six minutes, those drums Marr's guitars are over the top with while Morrissey takes aim on the Royal Family and all the things he finds tiring about Britain.

"Frankly Mr Shankly", the album's second real track is vintage Smiths: A bouncy Marr bouncy guitar riff providing a counterpoint to Morrissey's snarky lyrics. The song is an assault on poseurs everywhere, and - as expected - Morrissey pulls no punches: "Frankly Mr Shankly since you ask/You are a flatulent pain in the ass" and "I didn't realize you wrote poetry/I didn't realize you wrote such bloody awful poetry". The song also amplfies Morrissey's worldview, especially in lines like "I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy any day, any day, any day".

"I Know It's Over" starts dark and quiet -- with Morrissey crooning "Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head" and lamenting about sleeping alone, not even finishing the thought: "And as I climb into an empty bed/Oh well, enough said." As the song progresses, the music swells but the lyrics don't get any brighter. In my mind, "I Know It's Over" is kind of a companion piece to the next track "Had No One Ever", something of a dirge about the despair of being alone. Luckily, the guitar work from Marr keeps this one from getting too bogged down.

Things cheer up immensely on the misspelled "Cemetry Gates", the final song on the side. To Morrissey, it may be a "dreaded sunny day", but he manages to skewer plagiarists while among the gravestones of his favorite poets: "Keats and Yeats are your side/While Wilde is on mind".

Side 2 starts with one of the band's funniest songs, "Bigmouth Strikes Again". Morrissey defends his acerbic wit with fabulous lines like  "Sweetness I was only joking when I said/You shouldn't be bludgeoned in your bed".

"The Boy With the Thorn in His Side" was initially a single released nearly a year before the album and it was included here because it's just that good, while the rockabilly inspired "Vicar in a Tutu" feels like a throw-in amid the strength of the album's other tracks,

But it all comes full circle on what may be the Smiths' finest song. "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" is an homage to a songwriting duo that - against all odds - became one of the greatest of all time. Morrissey sounds his most human and vulnerable singing sublime lines like "And if a double decker bus crashes into us/To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die" while Marr's arrangement of overdubbed guitars and strings is a thing of absolute beauty,

The album could have ended there, but there's room for one more. "Some Girls are Bigger than Others" again showcases the intricate riffs that made Marr the greatest guitarist of his generation... and the volume drop in the song's first measures is deliberate.

The Smiths would spectacularly disband just a year and a half later, and while Morrissey went on to a successful solo career and Marr played with everyone from The Pretenders to Modest Mouse to The Cribs before launching a solo career of his own, there is very little hope that these two larger-than-life figures will ever decide to share a stage or recording studio again. But the five years they spent together yielded a catalog of songs that most artists wouldn't be able to match if given decades.

Day 4 - Demon Days by Gorillaz

Day 4 of 10: My all time favorite albums that are STILL in listening rotation. Today is Friday, so part of me wants to go easy and pick one of my less controversial records. And John Cari and Darius Gambino each have named a record that may well wind up on my list too. But in lieu of naming one of those aforementioned LPs, I'm once again going my own way.

Today's pick is 2005's "Demon Days" by Gorillaz, an album that's dark and weird in all the best ways. It's one of the first records to effectively capture the post-apocalyptic struggle of living after the horror of 9/11, and it topped the virtual band's 2001 debut. This time out, Damon Albarn teamed with Danger Mouse to reach his creative peak. (There may still be room on this list for Blur -- stay tuned.)

Albarn, along with graphic artist Jamie Hewlett, devised the cartoon band in the late 1990s, but by 2005 the novelty needed something more substantial. Albarn found it in the unease many felt in the early 21st century. And right from the jump, "Demon Days" brings a sense of foreboding -- eerie sounds and sirens tell the listener that something horrible has happened. On track two -- Albarn asks the question "Are we the last living souls?" -- a theme repeated throughout the album -- over a series of electro beats and blips. But it's not all grim -- and, like a microcosm of the record itself -- the darkness gives way to a lovely chorus -- trademark Albarn with melancholy vocals accompanied simply by acoustic guitar and piano.

The album sticks to the theme, but this is far from a dirge: "Kids with Guns" borrows a Salt n Pepa riff to illuminate an issue society can't seem to shake. The album veers from dark to light, getting bright and upbeat at times as Albarn taps into a vast arsenal of influences and musical styles -- including gospel, Hip hop and world music.

For me, the high point comes on two stellar tracks: De La Soul join the party on the infectious single "Feel Good Inc", which to this day I sing along with birds -- much like this guy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EXHCZdZkEQE (and I thought I was the only one!) 

The other highlight is the dancey track "DARE", on which Happy Mondays frontman Shaun Ryder takes lead vocals, playing up his image as a Mancunian thug. There's also a spoken word track featuring Dennis Hopper before the album's climactic and hopeful end. Overall, it's about the most fun you could have thinking about humanity's end and the destruction mankind has wrought on the world. Enjoy!

Day 3 - The Stone Roses

Day 3 of 10 of my all time favorite albums that are still in regular rotation -- in no particular order. I've enjoyed reading the lists from  fellow Discordants John Cari and Darius Gambino and I'm pleased to share my latest entry: It's 1989's debut album by Manchester's Stone Roses. 

The band had kicked around the Manchester scene for a few years before their debut, almost losing their drummer Reni to The Who (Pete Townshend recruited him, calling him the most naturally gifted drummer since Keith Moon). Lucky for us, The Who's loss is music's gain: Reni's dance-influenced beats combined with Mani's bass grooves laid the foundation for John Squire's psychedelic guitars and Ian Brown's larger-than-life vocals. And the result was a transcendent album that took cues from the past but blazed the way for the future -- defining Madchester and ushering in rave culture and Britpop.

Every track on this album is a gem, starting with the slow burn of "I Wanna Be Adored" (one of the greatest intros ever), the triumphant "She Bangs the Drums", the lovely "Waterfall", through my personal favorite "Made of Stone" and ending with the messianic "I am the Resurrection".

Ultimately, the Stone Roses are a cautionary tale -- a band that would never again match the dizzying heights of their debut. 

I first got into this record in 1991, when it formed the soundtrack to a summer I spent in Los Angeles. In 2016 I was lucky enough to see the Stone Roses at Madison Square Garden -- and it ranks as one of the best live shows I've ever seen: 20,000 people dancing, singing, practically worshipping before four lads from Manchester.

And by the way, Pete Townshend is right -- Reni is an incredible drummer. Look him up on YouTube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Br7W6qwmYeU

Day 2 - Autobahn by Kraftwerk

Day 2. The critics of my first pick can rest assured -- today's entry is a bonafide classic. The band that single-handedly created synth and techno -- all while Rolling Stones fans were getting fed "It's Only Rock and Roll (but I like it)". My choice for Day 2 of my all time favorite albums that are still in my rotation is 1974's groundbreaking album "Autobahn" by Kraftwerk. And I'll give you BOTH album covers. I'm keeping it real... auf Deutsch.

Greatest Albums of All Time - Still in Rotation

A few months back, Facebook was awash with everyone's ten greatest albums of all time. The catch was the records had to STILL be in regular rotation, even if only once in a while. I had such a good time doing this exercise that I am posting my list here, on The Discordants. 

Day 1 of 10 in no particular order: 10 of my all-time favorite albums (do the kids still say "albums"?) that are still in my regular rotation, even if only now and again. John Cari thanks for nominating me. I have a lot more than ten that I can think of, but I'll give it a go. (And I think I'll spare others the nominating process, but encourage anyone who wants to weigh in with their selections.)

I'm starting off with the album that I've listened to night after night on my basement turntable lately, 1986's "Big Shot Chronicles" by Game Theory. Schizophrenic power pop, at times aggressive, at times awkward. Clever chord structures, intelligent lyrics and great production from Mitch Easter. An underrated gem.

Nirvana and Killing Joke and... Captain Sensible?

I was watching a great documentary last night about pioneering radio station WLIR on Long Island -- they're the ones who broke plenty of New Wave and Alternative bands in the early 80s and paved the way for MTV and a whole new youth culture. Check it out on Showtime.

In any case, the documentary used the chorus of Killing Joke's "Eighties" to mark the changing decade and musical styles. When I went back to listen to "Eighties" in full, I noticed an eerie similarity, right from the off:

Yep. That opening guitar riff sounds a whole heckuva lot like this:

In fact, when Nirvana was trying to decide which song to release as the second single off of Nevermind, Kurt Cobain worried that the guitar riff from "Come As You Are" was too similar to "Eighties". As Nirvana biographer Everett True writes, the head of Nirvana's record label Danny Goldberg pushed for the more commercial sound of "Come As You Are" over runner-up "In Bloom".

After "Come As You Are" was released, members of Killing Joke recognized their riff. But they didn't file a lawsuit for copyright infringement. And there are conflicting reports about why: Rolling Stone reported they didn't sue because of "personal and financial reasons" but Kerrang! reported differently.

It didn't take long for the two sides to bury whatever hatchet they might have had. After Cobain's death in 1994, Dave Grohl and his band Foo Fighters recorded a cover of Killing Joke's song "Requiem" as the B-Side for their 1997 single "Everlong". And in 2003, Grohl took a break from Foo Fighters to record drums with Killing Joke.

And yet... both Killing Joke and Nirvana might have been borrowing that guitar riff from an earlier source -- Captain Sensible. Here's "Life Goes On" by the Damned.