The Hot Dogs- Say What You Mean (1973) Japanese Remaster (Roots of Power Pop Series) MP3 & FLAC

JVC Victor Japan ~ 2003/1973

The Hot Dogs were a Memphis power-pop band and label-mates with Big Star at Ardent Records in the early seventies. While lacking the edgy off-center quality of the legendary work of Chris Bell and Alex Chilton, The Hot Dogs' brand of power-pop was more obviously influenced by Memphis soul. Lead guitarist and producer Terry Manning did a wonderful job of giving this album the same sumptuous sound that is found on Big Star's debut (which he also had a hand in creating). A rare Memphis power-pop gem that you don't want to miss if you like Big Star.

Tracklist/Info

Say What You Mean  (Japanese Remaster) in FLAC:  Grab, Try, Then Buy!

 MP3 (320kbps)

Additional Big Star & Related Posts

Terry Manning- Home Sweet Home (1970) MP3 & FLAC

"I got a Mazerati GT with the snakeskin upholstery. I got a charge account at Goldsmith,
but I ain't got you."

As a teenager, Terry Manning emigrated from El Paso (where he had played in several bands with Bobby Fuller of "I Fought the Law" fame) to Memphis and somehow talked Stax Records producer and master session guitarist Steve Cropper into making him an assistant engineer at the legendary label after having simply walked in off the street one day. Manning quickly became a mainstay at Stax, going from sweeping up and making tape copies to gaining a reputation as a sought after engineer and producer in a matter of only a few years. The extent of his reputation can be gleaned from the list of artists whose best albums he had a hand in shaping, including Ike & Tina Turner, Otis Redding, The Staple Singers, and The Box Tops (to only name a few). As many of Stax's recordings were cut and mixed at neighboring Ardent Studios owned and operated by John Fry, Manning became a fixture there as well, eventually leading Fry to make him the studio's first official employee by hiring him to be Ardent's chief engineer and manager. Terry Manning: "Neither studio had a problem with this arrangement [....] In the musical sense, Memphis was fairly isolated [...] Its music style was homegrown, even though technically we were trying to emulate the big boys in London, New York and Los Angeles. Musically, Stax was doing what it liked, and together with Ardent we were just one big happy family of people wanting to do music." During this time, Manning was also an active participant in the local Memphis music scene, playing in various bands and befriending many of the musicians who would later craft, with the help of Manning and Fry's willingness to give them free access to Ardent's state-of-the-art recording equipment, the Power-Pop sound that characterized early-seventies Ardent bands such as Big Star, The Hot Dogs and Cargoe.

During a 1968 recording session with The Box Tops, Manning, known as a relentless prankster in the studio, decided to play a joke on one of the songwriters, Eddie Hinton, who had been brought in to furnish the band with material (The Box Tops were not generally allowed by their handlers to record their own songs). Hinton had written a less than stellar piece of Southern boogie called "Choo Choo Train," which he insisted was a perfect fit for Alex Chilton. Less than convinced and also intent on taking a piss out one of Chilton's overly-controlling handlers, Manning, late one night after everyone had left the studio, recorded a heavily ironic, brilliantly over-the-top psych version of the song. After playing the song the next day for producer Dan Penn, Hinton and Chilton, everyone enjoyed it as the joke it was intended to be; however, Stax producer Al Bell, seeing more than just a joke, asked Manning to record an entire album's worth of songs. The result was to be Terry Manning's lone album, Home Sweet Home- on one level, a tongue-in-cheek send up of any number of sixties-era rock cliches, but on another level, a brilliant pastiche of Psychedelia, rockabilly and Stax-style R&B that at times anticipates many of the hallmarks that came to define Memphis-style Power-Pop during the early seventies. For example, on the Johnny Cash cover, "Guess Things Happen That Way," Manning combines exaggerated Elvis-style vocals with a proto-Big Star Power-Pop arrangement that features one of Chris Bell's first moments on tape. Another standout, "Trashy Dog," also featuring Bell, is perhaps the silliest moment on Home Sweet Home; nevertheless, it also manages to be a fine piece of disposable Memphis Soul pop that bears more than a passing resemblance to Big Star's "Mod Lang." Home Sweet Home is an odd listening experience because despite the considerable doses of irony-laced irreverence that punctuate every song, it also reveals itself to be an important chapter in the evolution of the Ardent Power-Pop sound, as Manning, while working on his solo record, was also helping Chris Bell record tracks for Rock City, the band that would soon evolve into Big Star with the arrival of Alex Chilton.

The Box Tops- "The Letter" (1967) "Live" (and very bored) on Upbeat

Sure, they were pretty much puppets at this point, but man, Chilton was already something special and only sixteen at the time.

Rock City- S/T (2003) MP3 & FLAC

"I feel like I'm dying, never gonna live again. You better stop your lying and think about what's in the end."

By the time Chris Bell teamed up with Alex Chilton in 1971 to form the nucleus of what eventually became Big Star, Bell had been active on the local Memphis music scene since the mid-sixties. At the tender age of sixteen, obsessed with the sounds of the British Invasion, he played lead guitar for a band called The Jynx, which is how he first crossed paths with Chilton, who regularly attended The Jynx's shows (and even briefly sang for them) before joining The Box Tops along with Jynx bassist Bill Cunningham. Toward the end of the sixties, Bell had gravitated into the orbit of Ardent Studios and its founder John Fry, eventually becoming a part-time engineer at Ardent (he was also attending college at the time). In 1969, Bell, by this point writing his own material, developed a fateful friendship with one of Ardent's full-time engineers, Terry Manning, who, strangely enough, recorded a solo album around the same time, Home Sweet Home, for legendary Memphis R&B label Stax Records, which regularly bought studio time at Ardent. Bell and Manning formed a loose-knit band with a revolving cast of characters (including several future members of Big Star) that was known, at various points, as Rock City and Icewater. As Manning recalls, "During all of this, I, of course had the 'day job' at Ardent Studios: engineering for the rental clients. But when there was free time, John Fry was most gracious in allowing, and helping, everyone to try something new on their own." In essence, what this meant was that Bell and Manning were able to record and mix their own songs using a state-of-the-art recording studio without the support or limitations of a recording contract. The plan was to record an album under the moniker Rock City, which at this point was comprised of Bell, Manning, Tom Eubanks- who contributed the bulk of the songs- and future Big Star drummer Jody Stephens. Despite never having been released until a few years after it was rediscovered in a storage room in 2001, Rock City is an important recording because it provides a detailed glimpse into the formative days of a band that would eventually metamorphose into Big Star; however, more than that, taken on its own terms, the album contains some very good, if occasionally derivative, guitar-pop that every so often hints at something exceptional. An example of the former is the opener, Eubanks' "Think It's Time to Say Goodbye," a solid piece of Power-Pop that, despite limping in places due to Manning's limited vocal abilities, manages to do a respectable imitation of Badfinger. The album's flashes of originality occur when Bell takes center stage, as on "Try Again," a song that would be rerecorded to even greater affect for Big Star's debut, #1 Record. While Bell's vocals are a little shaky in places, they are unmistakably Chris Bell, and the song itself belies its guitar-pop foundation, offering up a dark, soul-searing sense of isolation that is miles ahead of anything else on the album in terms of distinctiveness. While Rock City pales in comparison to the greatness that was just around the corner after Bell jettisoned the modestly talented Eubanks and subsequently brought Alex Chilton into the fold, it nevertheless offers a fascinating glimpse of Bell taking his first significant strides toward the muse that would eventually destroy him.

Big Star- Live (1992) / Nobody Can Dance (1999) MP3 & FLAC

"I'll buy you breakfast; they'll think you're my wife. Come up to my hotel room,
save my life."

Live is the official release of a late-1973 in-studio performance by Big Star (at this point a trio) recorded by WILR-New York, which had been circulating for years, in one form or another, as a bootleg. The circumstances for the recording were the promotion of a two-day residence at the historic Manhattan nightclub Max's Kansas City in support of their newly released, Radio City, which the band hoped would avoid the tragic commercial fate of their brilliant debut, #1 Record  (unfortunately, it didn't). Alex Chilton's frustration and tentativeness regarding the band's commercial prospects at the time are palpable during the brief interview that sits (quite awkwardly) in the middle of the WILR show. For example, in response to DJ Jim Cameron's somewhat generic praise of the new album, Chilton, a master of sarcasm, responds, "Yeah, that's, uh, nice. I hope it sells." However, by late 1973-early 1974, the band was either in a state of transition or deterioration, as both Chris Bell (the band's originator) and original bassist Andy Hummel had quit, the latter, having had enough of the music industry (and working with Chilton), decided to head back to college to pursue a career in engineering. At the time of the WLIR show, Hummel's replacement, John Lightman, had only been with the band for three weeks. Despite the incipient turmoil and Chilton's growing sense of diminishing artistic returns, the band manages to turn in a typically lovely, shambolic and world-weary performance on Live, including a fantastic acoustic cover of Loudon Wainwright III's "Motel Blues," which also appears as a studio-demo on the Keep an Eye on the Sky  box set. It's easy to understand what attracted Chilton to this song as it is a razor-sharp depiction of the loneliness and waywardness of life on the road. His fragile, defeated vocals lend the song a tragic character that arguably bests Wainwright's slightly more ironic version. On the other end of the sonic spectrum is a sexy, grungy version of the rave-up "Mod Lang," which sounds something like T. Rex on Quaaludes while playing a gig underwater. Also noteworthy is a fine rendition of "You Get What You Deserve," featuring some impressive guitar-playing by Chilton, mixing his trademark grimy, jazzy chime with some down & dirty lead work. Big Star's live recordings never seemed to capture the band in optimal conditions; nevertheless, Live finds the band in ragged but committed form, energized by the then-recent release of their second masterpiece. This is well-worth hearing.

Chris Bell- I Am the Cosmos (1992) Deluxe Edition (Bonus Disc) MP3 & FLAC

"So it goes, on and on, my love grows, and yours is gone."

Chris Bell's exit from Big Star after the commercial failure of #1 Record  has, over the decades, become shrouded in speculation and mystery. His brother, Dave Bell, has suggested Chris quit his own band due to feeling overshadowed by Alex Chilton, whose celebrity extended beyond Memphis as a result of his stint in The Box Tops. There are also stories of Bell falling into a crippling depression as a result of the ill-fated fortune of Big Star's debut album, which he had worked on obsessively for nearly two years, but whatever the reason, Bell's departure was a bitter one, and featured, according to speculation, fights with other band members and spitefully erased master tapes. While Bell would eventually mend fences with his Big Star band-mates, he never again officially rejoined the band that he had originally started. In the aftermath, Big Star became Chilton's band and continued to languish in vastly undeserved obscurity, while Bell began work on a solo career that sadly would not come to fruition until 14 years after his tragic death, at 27, in a car accident. On one level, I Am the Cosmos is a compilation of the various studio sessions and demos that Bell had worked on throughout his post-Big Star years, but on another level, it functions as a cohesive and often brilliant reminder that Bell (even in absentia) played a big role in crafting Big Star's singular brand of Power-Pop. Nowhere is this more evident than on the gorgeously dark title track, which is easily the equal of anything he recorded in Big Star. With lyrics such as "Every night I tell myself I am the cosmos / I am the wind / But that don't get you back again," the song is a stark and unforgettable reminder of Bell's personal demons and his tortured pop genius. Another lush descent into romantic despair is the open-tuned ballad "Speed of Sound," which features some of the most beautifully recorded acoustic guitar you're ever likely to hear. Once again, Bell is preoccupied with the apparent hopelessness of connecting with others, but the song is dressed in such beautiful textures (including some Moog toward the end), that it refuses to succumb to the inconsolable desolation conveyed in the lyrics. Bell's is one of the more tragic stories in the annals of rock music, and while I Am the Cosmos carries some of this weight (it is his epitaph after all), it is also a great piece of pathos-soaked Power-Pop that demands to be heard.

Alex Chilton- 1970 (1996) MP3 & FLAC

"Travel the brand new highway. Doin' things finally my way."

Alex Chilton's early taste of commercial success during his stint as the voice of late-sixties A.M. radio favorites The Box Tops also exposed him to the more exploitative side of the music business, which, in many ways, was the catalyst for the unconventional career path he would wander down for the remainder of his life. After quitting The Box Tops in 1969 in order to gain more artistic control of his work, Chilton returned home to Memphis where he participated in a few recording sessions at Ardent Studios, ostensibly to put together a solo album. The fruit of these sessions was not deemed worthy of release; as a result, Chilton fled to New York City in an abortive attempt to make a name for himself as a troubadour before returning to Memphis and forming Big Star with Chris Bell. These unreleased Ardent solo sessions are gathered on 1970, and though not nearly as essential as Chilton's work with Big Star, the album does offer an interesting glimpse into his post-Box Tops artistic evolution. Many have suggested that Chilton's particular genius was at its best when working with collaborators who often functioned as a form of quality control for Chilton; thus, his solo ventures are notoriously uneven in terms of quality from song-to-song, and the sessions comprising 1970 are no exception. However, the album is not without a number of gems. Chief among these are the poppier tunes, which anticipate Chilton's work with Big Star. For example, "The EMI Song (Smile for Me)" is a beautifully recorded song with Chilton eschewing the gruff vocal style of his Box Top days for a softer, more introspective vocal performance, while featuring some of the distinctive characteristics that would come to define Big Star's trademark sound. On "The Happy Song," a countrified re-imagining of a Box Tops song, Chilton does his best Roger McGuinn imitation, while the studio band seems to channel The Flying Burrito Brothers, and the results are nothing short of lovely. While 1970 contains its share of unfocused throwaways (what Chilton solo album doesn't?), it also documents the early stages of Chilton's transformation from teen idol to artistic iconoclast.

Big Star- Keep an Eye on the Sky (2009) Box Set (4 Discs) MP3 & FLAC

"Caught a glance in your eyes and fell through the skies."

It is very difficult to suss out fact from legend when it comes to a band like Big Star; as a result, it is understandable that many wonder if the few records Alex Chilton & co. managed to produce during the brief life-span of the band could ever actually measure up to the level of critical devotion directed their way for the past twenty-five years or so since being "re-discovered." Often, these Big Star skeptics claim that the band lacked originality, that they were, more or less, simply derivative of mid to late sixties Brit-Rock. While it is true that bands such as The Beatles, The Kinks and The Who are prominent touchstones, particularly on Big Star's debut, #1 Record, such critiques tend to ignore the fact that Big Star not only transformed these influences into something entirely their own, but at the time they were doing so- the early-seventies- Jangle-Pop could not have been more out of step with the music mainstream. Rather than looking backward, a better reference point for the artistic credibility of the band is the enduring influence their three albums continue to have nearly four decades later. Keep an Eye on the Sky, which contains 55 previously unreleased tracks, constitutes a worthy addendum to Big Star's original releases, and delivers on decades-old rumors that this consummate studio band left behind some forgotten treasures. Chief among these are "Motel Blues," Chilton's cover of the Loudon Wainwright III song and several demos from the ramshackle recording sessions for 3rd, many of which feature Chilton alone on acoustic 12-string; these are simply stunning. Perhaps the highlight of the set is a live show, presented in its entirety, that was recorded in Memphis in 1973. In contrast to the pristine studio recordings, Big Star as a live band was a more informal (sometimes shambolic) affair, but no less brilliant for it. Despite its considerable focus on rarities and alternate mixes, Keep an Eye on the Sky also functions as an effective career retrospective, which makes this an essential listen for the curious and the converted alike.

Big Star- 3rd (1975) MP3 & FLAC -For Reindeer Man-

"Your eyes are almost dead, can't get out of bed, and you can't sleep."

As the legend goes: after the promotional fiascoes that somehow reduced two of the best rock records of the seventies, #1 Record and Radio City, to cutout bin status, Alex Chilton, by this point completely disillusioned with pursuing any form of commercial success, carried the Big Star sound into the studio one last time with self-sabotage on his increasingly drug-addled mind. In addition, Stax, Big Star's label, was quickly heading toward bankruptcy, creating an environment in Ardent studios conducive to accommodating Chilton's artistic death-drive. With only Jody Stephens left from the band's original lineup, the sessions included producer Jim Dickinson and a revolving cast of Memphis musicians. As such, 3rd  is essentially a Chilton solo record, and oh what a record it is- a shambolic, self-indulgent mess that somehow matches, and occasionally surpasses, the greatness of the earlier records. For example, on "Big Black Car," Chilton takes the pristine acoustic hush of #1 Record and entirely warps it into something laconic, loungy and brilliantly desolate, with vocals that are simultaneously tender and mocking. And then there's "Holocaust," a song built around a simple piano chord progression and a groaning cello with Chilton sounding like he's singing in a coffin. An absolutely chilling performance. Many find 3rd a frustratingly perplexing album, so full of promise, but collapsing under the weight of Chilton's deteriorating emotional state. To my ears, the album is one of the most stark and nakedly direct narratives of personal and professional dissolution ever recorded. I can't imagine life without it.

Big Star- #1 Record (1972) / Radio City (1974) MP3 & FLAC -R.I.P. Alex Chilton-

"I like this love but I don't know. All these girls, they come and go."

In 1989, I bought a copy of the legendary Rainy Day covers album, a collective effort by various members of the Paisley Underground, which featured, among other jewels, Opal's Kendra Smith covering "Holocaust" from Big Star's amazing ramshackle swan-song, 3rd. This is how I discovered Big Star, a band that practically defines (or rather were the original inspiration for) the term "lost classic." I can still remember hearing these albums for the first time and what a revelation they were to me. Some have argued in the years since that the actual music doesn't quite live up to the legend, but nothing could be further from the truth. No one sounded like this in the early seventies; yes, Badfinger is often cited, but they neither had the creative restlessness nor the the moody edge of Chris Bell, Alex Chilton and co. Big Star's debut, the ironically titled #1 Record, documents a band desperately trying to serve the visions of two musical auteurs, and while the artistic tension between Bell and Chilton is palpable at times, it is also what inspires them to greatness. Opening with one of the best four-song sequences of the seventies, "Feel," "The Ballad of El Goodo," "In the Street," and "Thirteen," #1 Record is a pristine mix of power-pop purity and Rock 'n' Roll decadence. Radio City is a very different album, due, in part, to Chris Bell's exit after the commercial failure of the debut as a result of their label's inability to properly promote the album. Now Chilton's band, Big Star abandoned the studio polish, adopting a slightly noisier and scruffier sound. As with the first album, Radio City is a stunning artistic success, but this time around, it is art teetering on the brink of dissolution. On songs such as "O My Soul" and "What's Going Ahn," Chilton takes the group's power-pop sensibilities into darker realms, while the inimitable "September Gurls" recalls the pop perfection of #1 Record. It is impossible to overestimate the influence of these albums on the Alternative and Indie scenes that followed in Big Star's wake. To my ears, this approaches Holy Grail status.