You know, I get it. It sounds weird. If I started dating someone new and we were talking about music we were into, I wouldn’t immediately lead him to throat singing. It’s an acquired taste, but once you’ve gotten used to the sound profile of throat singing, it’s easier to find it more than just...
The songs that were made under the direction of USA Records required a bit more polish. The result is a collection that is more melodic and poppy, with less scuzz and unpredictability than other ‘60s garage and psych comps, but are still fun, fast, and an absolute joy to listen to.
Rock would not exist without blues. Blues would not exist without slavery. Racial inequality would not exist without white people. If that’s the way you justify the belief that rock ‘n roll was birthed by The White Man, well, then shit, I can’t really argue with that logic.
Tucson is a weird place, a sanctuary for equally weird desert rats who presumably want the comforts of a city but prefer a certain level of isolation. And wouldn’t ya know it, a lot of the people who fall within that category happen to be musicians!
Even though their career only lasted seven years, Dara Puspita achieved something no other Indonesian women had done before them, and I doubt there have many who did the same after them.
It’s really, really difficult to find collections of older music made by Native musicians that aren’t just 14 flute songs burned onto a CD by white people and sold for their profit at the Grand Canyon gift shop.
I love this album so much because it pushes all those stereotypes out of the way. I mean, these guys were making hellish and wonderful and crazy and modern and bangin' rock 'n roll 50 years ago!
If you can't get down to, "Lung Dee Kee Mao," then... I dunno. Maybe you shouldn't have bought this album just because it had cute girls on the cover.
This was the first album to convince me that not all Bollywood (in this case, Kollywood) is about campy novelty or blatant pop-music ripoffs.