Brian Eno – Dead Finks Don’t Talk

Here Come The Warm Jets

Attack of the Killer Track! is a series that explores tracks from artists from a variety of genres. Some of the tracks were singles, some of them were obscure b-sides or long forgotten album tracks. One thing is certain – all of them are killer tracks.

Fresh off a stint in Roxy Music, Brian Eno began putting out futuristic and bleak solo records. Still a few years away from becoming the Godfather of Ambient, these early records featured vocals on almost all the tracks and are similar in feel to David Bowie’s 1976 to 1980 output (where he was assisted on 3 of those records by…Brian Eno). Sometimes overlooked in favor of his instrumental work, they are records that really fit the description of “ahead of its time”. 1974’s solo debut Here Come The Warm Jets has been described as “glammed up art-pop” which is as an apt of a description as I can think of. The nonsensical lyrics come to a fore in album standout Dead Finks Don’t Talk. Eno employed a free associative view to the lyrics, believing the vocals were just another instrument. ‘Finks is post-punk before punk even existed, avant-garde yet pop in structure. Eno even throws in a bit of an Elvis Presley impression at the 1:16 mark. An absolute highlight and a nice starting point for Brian Eno’s 40 years of solo work. Here Come The Warm Jets hit #26 on the UK charts and has been a consistent seller for Eno, since its release 40 years ago. In 2014 Brian Eno has already released 2 records and provided guest vocals on Damon Albarn’s record. We haven’t even talked about Eno’s career as record producer for some of the biggest names in music over the last 35 years. Perhaps another time. Until then, here’s where it all starts. “Oh cheeky cheeky / Oh naughty sneaky / You’re so perceptive and I wonder how you knew”

Mansun – Six


Part 47 of a series that will run throughout 2013 as I discuss records that have affected me throughout the years – Flashback Fridays

In 1997 at some point – the exact details are hazy – a friend and I set out to see a show at the TLA on South Street in Philadelphia. The headliners were a band called The Seahorses, featuring John Squire, formerly of The Stone Roses. Although I had their record, I really wasn’t there to see them (and as it would turn out, I wouldn’t even stay for their set that night). The opening band was a band called Mansun who had recently released their debut record, Attack of the Grey Lantern.

The mid 90’s was a strange time period for a wannabe hipster latching onto the Britpop scene. Oasis, Blur, Pulp, and Suede (that’s The London Suede for us Yanks) were all clearly within the genre, but there were dozens – if not hundreds – of bands that didn’t quite fit so neatly into the tag. I bought anything I could that was lumped into the scene, sometimes based on an article I’d read in an import music magazine whilst killing time at Barnes & Noble. I’d read about Mansun, and their glam inspired look combined with decidedly non britpop musical leanings pulled me in. Their 1st record quickly became a favorite of mine, culminating with the show I caught at the TLA. They ended their set with an incredible version of their 1st single “Take it Easy, Chicken” and my friend and I felt like there was no way The Seahorses – John Squire and all – could ever top Mansun. And so we left the venue. Upon reflection, this may have signaled the end of my personal Britpop phase.

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