The Post-Rockist

 (This is the continuation of a defense of Rod Stewart (the ’70s version, anyway) that I’ve been working on. Basically, I hold that if you can look past his “Hot Legs” phase of the 1980s and the current “Songbook” phase the old crooner’s in right now, there’s no getting around the greatness of his ’70s catalogue.)

Rod Stewart - Handbags and Gladrags
(from The Seventies Collection)

“Handbags and Gladrags” is a classic Rod Stewart song in the distinctive “I’m pretending to be a wizened 50 year-old man” style that he perfected (see The Faces’ “Ooh La La” for further reference). The song is especially memorable for two reasons: (1) The distinctive, mournful, and unquestionably English-sounding horn section, and (2) the fact that a version of it was used as the opening music for the original British version of The Office.

What sets the song apart for me, though, is the memorable depiction of class; in particular, British class struggle. The song makes very little sense to Americans in a specific sense (what exactly are “gladrags”anyway?), but works extraordinarily well on an intuitive level. The song, obviously, is a sort of cautionary tale: Don’t forget that you wouldn’t have the money and standing you enjoy now without the hard-earned work of your parents and grandparents. Further, once the ephemera that you use to define yourself is stripped away, is there anything left beneath the surface? Heavy stuff.

There have been other covers of this song (Stewart’s version itself is a cover), but nobody else gets the delivery quite right. The lines “Once I was a young man/and all I thought I had to do was smile,” somehow strikes just the right rueful note and, even more impressively, is convincing despite Stewart being still a rather young man at the time. And, of course, the way he shouts and his voice cracks a bit on the final refrain of “They told me you missed school today/So I suggest you just throw them all away,” convinces you that, by god, he really is an aging figure desperate to connect with his target. It’s a masterful vocal performance, and a reminder that, even when it comes to rock ‘n’ roll, a perfect vocal performance can make a good song legendary.

Finally, the song is a perfect example of how to build momentum in a song: Slow, almost meandering lyrics and simple piano at the beginning (“ever seen a young girl growing old/trying to make herself a bride”) followed by the singer getting angrier and angrier as the horns come into the foreground. The horns eventually take over the music and, finally, the song itself. If you’re really listening, it’s impossible not to get swept away with the sound every time you hear it.

-Posted by Josh

Os Mutantes
Webster Hall
New York, NY: July 21, 2006 

I went to the Os Mutantes show as something of an outsider. I had been given a ticket basically as a bribe so that my apartment could be used for sleep, eating, and, perhaps, sex (alas, not with me). I knew they were from Brazil, that Pitchfork loved them, and that the Everything is Possible Luaka Bop comp I acquired at the last minute was intruiging. That was it. It also seemed like they might be goddamn hippies, but I was reserving judgment.

They were, of course, goddamn hippies. With clothes (capes, cravats) and attitudes (peace, love, whatever) straight out of the School of Donovan. However, much like the Sunshine Superman, they were charming, completely irrepressible characters.

Most importantly, they knew how to put on a show. This was a band (two-thirds of the band, technically, as Zelia Duncan took over the vocals in Rita Lee’s absence) that seemed truly excited to be playing in front of us. They were smiling and happy and the place was instantly awash in good feeling.

Sergio Dias Baptista, the guitarist, was the heart of the show. It was he that did most of the talking with the audience and provided much of the show’s humor with ridiculous guitar-hero antics during some of the longer numbers. His brother Arnaldo, he of the failed suicide attempt and clearly still a bit of a wreck, provided the unintentional comedy highlights of the show. Whether it was delicately applying his bifocals (really!) right before the show began or awkwardly attempting to clap without right hand ever actually touching left, he was there to help remind us kids of the dangerous effects of drug abuse and excess.

(Continued)