#i love a lot of bands with men singing very high pitched or with falsettos

[yellowsubiesdance]

i heard greta van fleet before i knew it was them, and i absolutely thought it was a woman singing. but for some reason, knowing the lead singer is a man changes my feelings on the band, i have no idea why.

[nobody-knose--archive]

so guess who bought complete demos today on a whim

yeah i wasn’t expecting this one to be over as quickly as it was either. have your liveblog

-complete demos. i bought it today & already forgot the tracklist. listening to it on the mp3 player i got for hmcrmshcidshdamsth because why not. makes pausing/typing easier that's why

-who the heck just coughed

-good lord the mixing is. and boy that's steve drumming isn't it. wow

-i mean we've got the stereo panning just like ever but this is incredibly rough. they are true babies aren't they

-oh those flutes are amazing what the hell. can people stop yelling in my individual ears

-and there's the rough megaphone. it's so incredibly clear that these aren't studio recordings but like. still tally hall!

-i think i'm finding many of these a little too funny but gotdam you're pitchbending your own voice do you really expect that to not sound so goofy at such a high pitch

-oh we're not slowing down at all, this is the same tempo as before for sure

-the flipping around audio channels is very not good at all when it comes to disguising the cuts between takes

-a sculptor you say? (is that one in the later versions? i don't remember it at all)

-nothing but rob's voices in the background and maybe 1 or two from red. no ross bits whatsoever. that's wild

-quick move into the greener intro and even quicker movement into greener itself

-well those are extra harmonies. interesting that they removed them for later versions because they're not bad, maybe a little out of place though

-honestly the biggest difference in steve vs ross drumming seems to be more a difference in the quality of the drums themselves. or the recording software but that applies to everything in this album

-it's painfully obvious that everything was recorded in really different circumstances & not mixed professionally and yep. complete demos alright. not inaccurately named in the slightest

-reminds me of the beta versions of g&e songs we heard live before they appeared on the album, makes me wonder if we could've gotten an admittedly complete demos for g&e somehow

-anyway these little different synths-

-hello there rob. alternate bridge. i have remembered this is a thing. something about tissues? a shoulder to cry on? cool

-yeah the little different synths do capture my attention from time to time

-and a basic piano for the outro? huh. sure gives it a different tone alright

-hm? who's that right at the end there- ooh! wtth time! and this still has steve in it doesn't it?

-generally more enthusiasm when it comes to that T, wonder what lost him attention in later years

-boy is that beatboxing weirdly mixed.

-lawn

-well this chorus is actually rather snazzy. the vocals seem better mixed than anything else i've heard in this album

-"who's to blame?" that's like the 4th time now i've heard someone's random voice that i can't recognize. ...it couldn't be steve, could it? i am now aware i have absolutely no clue what his voice sounds like but that seems like it could fit. hm

-zubin sounds really unenthusiastic here. just faintly unenthusiastic all over the place. still sounds more like "badiggle" than anything else

-oh shit they're falling down a well

-red's bit is hella unchanged other than the direct invasion of my individual ears & extra megaphone useage (i really wish the megaphone became more of a tally icon than it did but that's neither here nor there)

-it's rather more barebones though. less andrew keys in general. the calliope-reminiscent synth he uses is different i suppose.

-they did more stuff with funny crowd voices i think i've noticed. playing around with falsetto, as a college band dude might do

-ok yeah steve is a worse drummer. don't ask me what made me change my mind but i did

-wow a crowd that can consistently clap on the 1-2-3-4? how utterly unrealistic

-no wonky wild & weird intro to taken for a ride because i don't think it's on this album. understandable, i can't imagine what sort of wild hell the vocoder would be if it was attempted this early in its lifespan

-1st 2 piano chords of just apathy has me thinking of i know your name (deporitaz ver.) which is certainly as good a start to a song as any

-extended piano intro has me thinking of the ending of mold en mono but nope here's rob's voice to completely knock that impression out of the water

-ohoho? rob cantor swearing momence? i hadn't realized there'd be this many lyric changes

-interestingly enough this track doesn't seem horrendously mixed so far- nevermind that guitar/piano together is way too loud

-the guitar itself does have a pretty cool unique sound. obviously they hadn't had any access to string instruments at this point so given that those're the main thing separating this song from your average sade rock ballad there aren't a whole lot of notable differences here other than said guitar

-very different tone to this lil bridge. faintly reminiscent of weezer but it's not like i know anything about weezer

-sounds like the same synth from wtth being used in the bg there. what, did they have just that limited a selection so as to need repetition that frequently, or did they really like how it sounds? hard to tell with 200 (uhhhh) 4 college band dudes

-and right into two wuv. yes i had heard there's no haiku in this one but i forget what else will be missing. not sure if anything else will other than hidden in the sand. they would have ruler of everything, right? and a track that appears here but not any other albums? something like that i think

-more of that piano in the bg and more of mildly unenthusiastic zubin singing. different melody for said singing but it's not much of a secret that these guys were more untrained vocalists at this time

- .subsides?

-this chorus sounds significantly more laid-back than the later version

-the extra piano part sure moves this piece way further away from "rock love song" & way closer to "andrew horowitz song", especially that lil flourish where a bee buzzing might otherwise be

-ooh! andrew! he speaks! so does zubin! this song's two olsen boys coming in for a weird bridge bit! hell yeah oh this is adorable

-"because there's 2 of them :}"

-hm. are they actually just removing various parts because they don't have the technological capabilities to do a straight fadeout here? got dam

-i suppose letting zubin do a final solo-ish cadence works too

-uh- say it ain't so‽ w. no this is stationary love, the song that appeared here & nowhere else. cool, cool. strange but cool i guess

-i guess that can explain the multitude of weezer comparisons made for these lads. it's certainly there. honestly andrew was the only thing keeping them from being true weezer successors

-pure acoustic guitar thus far. this is my first time hearing this song of course & it seems like a pretty typical rob "homophonic heterophobic" cantor song

-nothing but acoustic guitar. nothing but rob vocals. nothing but alloromanticism. guess what! it's not my cup of tea! however i can't help but think if this song was worked on more, fixed up a la either mmmm release, with some more andrew/red touches, i could enjoy it some more

-not even any drumming. the simplicity could easily explain why it wasn't played live very often at all

-so the next thing i expect is some very funky & very weird spring and a storm which should highlight steve's (worse) drumming more than anything else i'm sure

-nevermind banana man's just getting slapped directly in here out of order compared to the later mmmm releases. this version i have indeed heard before because it's the version used in the music video

-therefore i have very little to say about it i haven't said on any of the other banana men. or other tracks on this album. the intrusions of vocal harmonies seem jarring because they're not mixed professionally, an effect that's only enhanced by the stereo panning & intense reverb

-this song really didn't change all that much over its lifespan, did it? vocal flairs were redone, but relatively few harmonies were added/removed, i don't think things like the bridge(s) were modified severely. not as noticeably as any of the other songs, at the very least

-i'm pretty sure i can hear andrew's voice in there but beyond that this is severely unsettling

-back to the chorus wahoo. relievingly  familiar territory

-get out of my left ear hawaiian guitar- wait a minute are my earbuds on wrong

-no i'm good

-oh holy shit i forgot this had to be somewhere didn't it‽ i know it's just the same! ok ok

-i've heard this one but only because i had no idea it was from complete demos, it's like rather polished too so i had never considered it would be on an unpolished album like this. i also had no idea that was goddam steve drumming in there too hot damn

-and this is the only recording of it‽ that's wild i always thought it was redone at some point & just kinda. manifested in one of the vague ways miscellaneous high quality tally hall songs do

-it's another romance one but the guitar arpeggios and extra layers give it a pass in my book. man i should watch the music video for it shouldn't i

-i still think it's utterly wild how tally hall played this at an actual high school's homecoming once. wouldn't that just blow your mind

-there's not a major difference between how it's performed here & what i've heard of it in from the occasional live performance, which is making me realize i should watch more live performances of this song

-angstier prequel to hidden in the sand

-or sidequel maybe. depends really. we can tell whatever stories we like

-did my hidden in the sand sotry come out of the queue yet? i feel like i queued it a while ago but also like y'all would've said something if you'd seen it

-bit slow paced innit. much like everything else in this album, it would have gained much from a professional studio treatment, but its mixing & general quality is still surely the best out of everything i've heard so far

-working your falsetto there aren't you my dude? ooh boy

-ruler of everything.... so no spring & a storm? >{

-yeah. ok. weird glockenspiel. almost sounds like a music box

-no vocoding either! i just realized that's a thing here! curious. and... those are some heavily wonky sfx in the background

-who's singing those aaaaas anyway? it's not a chorus which i thought could surely be handled and there's really minimal reverb too; strange considering not only is reverb a jh trademark but easily doable here

-the piano synth used is mostly identical to the 05 mmmm- oh holy shit there's different lyrics & they're being beamed directly into my skull

-even more nonsensical & it's because you can hear them hella easily too. that backwards segment did not need to go on as long as it did. also

-so no zubin vocals? >{

-slapping 5 billion vocal effects on doesn't make up for a lack of the best singer in this damn band

-especially because he sounds reminiscent of goddam fred. being fred before fred was even a thing. oh how accursed

-quiet down your guitars when you're singing shouting through a megaphone if you please

-and there's the earstrain-ass reverb + vocoding on the flibbity jibber jabber reprise. i feared as much would happen. doesn't sound horrible i just need to turn down the volume on my mp3 player

-honestly thing whole thing isn't bad at all in the sense that it's mostly just strongly different from the later versions & lacks zubin

-lease stop yelling though my dude schwiggling your voice like that isn't always a good thing at high volumes

-is that the end? are we.... at the end? i heard that's the name of some song from like sketches or something

-no. how silly of me to assume as much. anyway my dude needs to fix up his ukulele this one sounds like shit

-no vocal effects makes me realize how few times we got this one live-

-now what would you call a wonky little transition like that? puts a smile on my face, even if it does take me by surprise at the same time

-but at least one of the times this was done live featured casey shea

-now for the love of god i already hate the ending of something glowing (view-monster) for its weird-ass asmr finale don't reverse someone's cough & twiddle your ukulele strings directly into my right ear to end an otherwise really nice version of hidden in the sand if you please. oh mama mia. good night

[chiseler]

FATS WALLER: Baby Elephant Patter

Was Fats Waller put on this earth to send up inane pop songs, or did Tin Pan Alley busy itself churning out an endless supply of vapid tunes just to feed his enormous appetite for ridicule? Either way, it wasn’t a bad deal: while he was irrepressible in his vocal shenanigans and merciless in his mockery of cornball lyrics, Waller also bestowed on assembly-line songs unwarranted beauty. His touch on the piano was like a hummingbird’s wings, like sunlight scattering on moving water. The great clown of jazz, Thomas “Fats” Waller belongs, with Oliver Hardy and Roscoe Arbuckle, to that brotherhood of fat men whose girth serves to counterpoint their buoyant grace and delicacy. His music is at once thundering, voluminous, and dainty, like the “baby elephant patter,” he invokes in “Your Feets Too Big,” or like one of Disney’s hippo ballerinas twirling on pointe.

Waller’s own compositions are subtle and elegant, never hard-selling their melodies, but floating with insouciant ease and lingering like a complex perfume. His best songs were written with lyricist Andy Razaf, whose full—indeed overflowing—name was Andreamenentania Paul Razafinkerierfo, and whose great-aunt was the queen of Madagascar. Razaf’s lyrics for “Ain’t Misbehavin’” and “Honeysuckle Rose” fit the tunes so well that the words and music seem to be born from a single thought. He also wrote the bitter lyrics for “(What Did I Do To Be So) Black and Blue?” which started as the complaint of a dark-skinned woman over men’s preference for lighter complexions (“All the race fellows crave high yellows”), but which Louis Armstrong stripped down and turned into an angry lament about being judged by one’s skin color. This transformation wouldn’t have worked so well if Waller’s melody hadn’t had the depth and authority of the blues.

Fats Waller is often accused of having wasted his vast composing talents, and he never earned a full place in the Great American Songbook despite the popularity of his two best-known songs. But he turned out a lot more delightful if too little known songs, from catchy toe-tappers like “Crazy ‘Bout My Baby” and “Aintcha Glad?” to lovely, softer tunes with a pensive touch, like “Blue Turning Grey Over You” and “I’ve Got a Feeling I’m Falling.” It is proper to lament that he didn’t record more instrumentals displaying his full musical talents, and that he was forced by the commercial demands of his record label to be instead an entertainer and comedian—but his comic performances are so marvelous that I can’t put my heart into such a complaint. After all, great musical comedians are rarer than great pianists.

The triteness and sentimentality that plagued popular song of the jazz age was Waller’s unfailing spring of humor. (The glories of Porter, the Gershwins, Rodgers & Hart et al. rose above this morass, but Waller rarely got to sing any great songs besides his own.) Once you’ve heard him make light of a shopworn lyric, you will never again be able to hear a straight rendition without snickering. Above all, he gleefully skewers the melodramatic hyperbole larded into love songs: if you break my heart I’ll die. In “It’s a Sin to Tell a Lie,” Fats updates this to, “If you break my heart I’ll break your jaw and then I’ll die,” and in “Stay,” a duet with a female singer, when she sighs lugubriously, “And please believe me / Without you I would die,” he interjects, “’Course, I ain’t gonna let her die—no, I might kill her lightly…” He salvages (and savages) “The Curse of an Aching Heart,” a self-pitying bit of rubbish, with a spoken introduction: “Yeah, this is me—look at me, look at me! I look like something the cats had in the alley last night…” Then he sings the rest of the song like a drunken Pagliacci. Listen to a lot of Waller’s recordings, and the whole enterprise of the love song teeters on its throne, raising the question of whether passion can coexist with a lively sense of the absurd. (Irving Berlin wrote a song on this subject, lamenting, “I want to be romantic, but I haven’t a chance, / You’ve got a sense of humor, and humor is death to romance.”)

Alfred Appel, Jr. justly titled Waller the “King of Razz.”

All this clowning can’t conceal the iridescent brilliance of his playing, with its springy stride rhythm and gossamer arpeggios. No other pianist gave a more accurate demonstration of “tickling the ivories.” Occasionally, as though giving voice to his piano, he would cry, “Aw, the ticklin’ is so terrific!” He punctuates instrumental sections with exhortations to the band, a six-piece ensemble dubbed His Rhythm: conversing with the soloists (“Boy, would you plunk them strings? Plunk ‘em, plunk ‘em!”), and the instruments, as when he demands of a disgruntled-sounding muted trombone: “Who is you growlin’ at, woman?” He knowingly and sarcastically uses this kind of fractured grammar, so offensively imitated by white lyricists like Berlin (“It’s just the bestest band what am, honey lamb”), then turns it on its head by translating “your feets too big” into the peerlessly pompous, “Your pedal extremities are colossal.”

All the interjections, wordplay and verbal slapstick were ad-libbed, as he plowed through piles of mostly mediocre or worse songs he’d never seen before in marathon recording sessions for RCA Victor, fueled by sandwiches and gin. He veers into a prissy, whining falsetto or a goofy operatic basso profundo; scats, baby talks, reacts with surprise to the lyrics he’s singing, and enacts little spoken dramas in the background. But for all his hamming and volcanic spirit of ridicule, his teasing is never mean-spirited, and now and then he gives a straightforward, tender rendition that elevates a potentially cloying song like, “My Very Good Friend, the Milkman,” or reveals an unexpected gem like the charming tribute to a liberated woman, “A Little Bit Independent.” Despite his comic bent, Waller’s singing has far more heart and warmth than reptilian crooners like Rudy Vallee put into their high-pitched drone of seduction.

He made far fewer film appearances than one would wish, since his facial expressions are as finely calibrated for comedy as his voice. In Stormy Weather (1943) he does a duet with Ada Brown, accompanying her as she belts out a low-down blues and slipping in hilarious asides in response to her allegations of mistreatment (“Suffer, excess baggage, suffer!”), while his chubby features rearrange themselves into a mask of supercilious disdain or flinch in fastidious dismay.

Even his eyebrows had rhythm. Thick, black and extravagantly arched, they had the springy calligraphy of Hirschfeld’s pen-strokes, and when he sang they waggled up and down, saucy as chorus girls’ hips. His face was moon-shaped and, in black-and-white film, almost moon-pale, a striking backdrop for the eyebrows, the huge mouth daintily outlined with a mustache, and the round black eyes, which rolled dramatically or narrowed to sleepy, mischievous slits. A derby tilted over one eye completed this cartoon-like, yet minutely expressive face.

Alas, he died in 1943, not yet 40, at the height of his popularity. The cause was pneumonia, but his system was worn down from too much touring, too much eating, too much drinking, and the stress of legal wrangling over alimony payments. He was the son of respectable, strait-laced parents, his father a Baptist minister; young Thomas used to accompany his services on the organ, which remained his favorite instrument. As a teenager he played in movie theaters, and his recordings on the pipe organ use its vast palette to surprisingly light and graceful effect, creating watercolor-like washes of sound that still swing. His vocal mannerisms often show the influence of preaching, with call-and-response patterns and shouts of soul-fired joy. Predictably, his parents were opposed to his becoming a musician, no doubt predicting he would fall into evil company—as he did if the story can be believed that he was once kidnapped at gun-point and made to give a command performance at a birthday party for Al Capone. If true, this speaks well of Capone’s taste. It’s something to imagine, this meeting of two men who were both, in their very different ways, experts at misbehaving.

by Imogen Sara Smith