the best of the golden palominos 1983-1989
Some people don't trust bands that don't have an identity. But some bands don't want an identity. In fact, some bands - Anton Fier's Golden Palominos among them - don't really want to be bands.
Fier aside, the Golden Palominos have rarely boasted anything as focused as a regular line-up. But neither is this a Paul McCartney and Wings situation, with one creative member dominating his faceless bandmates.
Instead, the Palominos have for the last 14 years been a vehicle whereby Fier can investigate, and some deconstruct, a variety of rock, and jazz, genres and stylings. As a concept, that might sound forbidding. But as this judicious selection from their four 1980s album demonstrates, it translates into music that can range from full-frontal, free-form jazz to gentle reworkings of delicious pop songs. What links them, and gives the Golden Palominos their elusive identity, is Fier's refusal to be held back by anyone's boundaries.
Anton Fier was once Andy Fisher, the drummer of New York art-rockers the Feelies. But when that band drifted into inactivity after the 1980 debut LP, Crazy Rhythmes, Fier concentrated on another self-consciously arty New York band he'd been playing with sporadically since 1979, the Lounge Lizards.
They called their music "fake jazz", trading on their mix of be-bop sensibility and avant-garde atonality. Jazz was fresh ground for Fier, but he relished its spacious landscapes and the receptiveness of Manhattan audiences, who were open to the Lounge Lizards' decadence and experimentalism in equal measure.
Fier picked up another layer of art-rock credibility during a 1982 stopover with Pere Ubu, the avant-punk pioneers whose album that year, Song Of The Bailing Man, introduced the drummer to another method of working: deliberately holding ineself in check.
When he formed the Golden Palominos late that year, Fier envisaged a band that would cram all his previous influences - from the avant-garde through punk, via lashings of jazz - into one self-sufficient unit. To that end, he assembled a ferocious line-up of left-field free-thinkers for some New York gigs that boggled the imagination. Crammed onto a single stage were such luminaries as composer and reeds player John Zorn, Material bassist Bill Laswell, percussionist and noise specialist David Moss and funk/latin/rock guitar genius Arto Lindsay.
Those who saw the shows reckon that The Golden Palominos, the band's 1983 debut album, could never match the eclecticism and frenzy of the live experience. But it must have been close, with the shades of James Brown and Ornette Coleman colliding in an avant-funk assault that was quite breathtaking. Over it all lurched the divinely demented guitar of Arto Lindsay, whose contribution stretched to cowriting and playing on almost every track.
Visions Of Excess (1985) was a little that promised an even harsher clash of noise and musical daredeviltry. But in one of rock's most abrupt shifts of direction, Fier threw the Golden Palominos open, selecting material from diverse sources and then hand-crafting he musicians and singers who would perform on each track.
Few other units could have atracted a similar supporting cast - R.E.M. frontman Michael Stipe, former Cream bassist Jack Bruce, former Rotten Pistol John Lydon, dB's leader Chris Stamey, guitar hero Richard Thompson and Paisley Underground maverick Syd Straw amongst them. The introduction of featured vocalists added a pop edge to the Palominos' vision, which in turn called for a more reflective musical approach. But there was still room for guitarist Henry Kaiser to slide a little of his madness into the otherwise calm waters of the old Moby Grape classic, Omaha, with Stipe delivering a superb vocals. Lydon was equally on form with The Animal Speaks, suggesting that no band, even one this weird, could rob him of his core identity.
The album brought Fier and the Palominos to an audience who would never have sampled their work under other circumstances - R.E.M. fans, for one. The temptation undoubtedly proved too great, so they repeated the experiment on 1986's Blast Of Silence.
This was universally regarded as a retrograde step for a bunch of self proclaimed musical radicals, but the slight predictability of the concept didn't prevent the album from featuring several tracks that were every bit as succesful as their predecessor. This time, skewed pop visionaries like T-Bone Burnett, Don Dixon and Matthew Sweet were among the guest musicians.
With A dead Horse (1989), the Golden Palominos shifted into a third distinct phase. Gone were the superstar cameos (though Bernie Worrell and ex-Rolling Stones guitarist did add some subtle touches). For the first time, the Palominos featured a stable line-up, Fier being supported by the ever-present Bill Laswell, guitarists Robert Kidney and Nicky Skopelitis, and vocalist Amanda Kramer. She'd graduated through the electro-hip-hop of the Information Society, but discovered her true vocation on this calm, understated and strangely beautiful album, sending layers of harmonies over the occasional vocals of Robert Kidney.
A Dead Horse marked the end of the Palomino's decade-long relationship with the Celluloid label - and the cut-off point for this collection. Since then, the band has maintained a steady flow of releases, most of them on the aptly named Restless label. They've replaced Amanda Kramer with singer Lori Carson, gathered up a cameo appearance or two from the legendary funk bassist Bootsy Collins, and been subjected to that most predictable of mid-90s procedures, the remix album.
None of this has come close to making the Golden Palominos into a household name, or even into a music-making machine with an instantly recognisable identity. There's a suspicion that regardless of Fier's credentials, and his ability to attract daring musicians, the peak years of the Palominos ended with the 1980s. Maybe the title of A Dead Horse was prophetic, after all.
Fier aside, the Golden Palominos have rarely boasted anything as focused as a regular line-up. But neither is this a Paul McCartney and Wings situation, with one creative member dominating his faceless bandmates.
Instead, the Palominos have for the last 14 years been a vehicle whereby Fier can investigate, and some deconstruct, a variety of rock, and jazz, genres and stylings. As a concept, that might sound forbidding. But as this judicious selection from their four 1980s album demonstrates, it translates into music that can range from full-frontal, free-form jazz to gentle reworkings of delicious pop songs. What links them, and gives the Golden Palominos their elusive identity, is Fier's refusal to be held back by anyone's boundaries.
Anton Fier was once Andy Fisher, the drummer of New York art-rockers the Feelies. But when that band drifted into inactivity after the 1980 debut LP, Crazy Rhythmes, Fier concentrated on another self-consciously arty New York band he'd been playing with sporadically since 1979, the Lounge Lizards.
They called their music "fake jazz", trading on their mix of be-bop sensibility and avant-garde atonality. Jazz was fresh ground for Fier, but he relished its spacious landscapes and the receptiveness of Manhattan audiences, who were open to the Lounge Lizards' decadence and experimentalism in equal measure.
Fier picked up another layer of art-rock credibility during a 1982 stopover with Pere Ubu, the avant-punk pioneers whose album that year, Song Of The Bailing Man, introduced the drummer to another method of working: deliberately holding ineself in check.
When he formed the Golden Palominos late that year, Fier envisaged a band that would cram all his previous influences - from the avant-garde through punk, via lashings of jazz - into one self-sufficient unit. To that end, he assembled a ferocious line-up of left-field free-thinkers for some New York gigs that boggled the imagination. Crammed onto a single stage were such luminaries as composer and reeds player John Zorn, Material bassist Bill Laswell, percussionist and noise specialist David Moss and funk/latin/rock guitar genius Arto Lindsay.
Those who saw the shows reckon that The Golden Palominos, the band's 1983 debut album, could never match the eclecticism and frenzy of the live experience. But it must have been close, with the shades of James Brown and Ornette Coleman colliding in an avant-funk assault that was quite breathtaking. Over it all lurched the divinely demented guitar of Arto Lindsay, whose contribution stretched to cowriting and playing on almost every track.
Visions Of Excess (1985) was a little that promised an even harsher clash of noise and musical daredeviltry. But in one of rock's most abrupt shifts of direction, Fier threw the Golden Palominos open, selecting material from diverse sources and then hand-crafting he musicians and singers who would perform on each track.
Few other units could have atracted a similar supporting cast - R.E.M. frontman Michael Stipe, former Cream bassist Jack Bruce, former Rotten Pistol John Lydon, dB's leader Chris Stamey, guitar hero Richard Thompson and Paisley Underground maverick Syd Straw amongst them. The introduction of featured vocalists added a pop edge to the Palominos' vision, which in turn called for a more reflective musical approach. But there was still room for guitarist Henry Kaiser to slide a little of his madness into the otherwise calm waters of the old Moby Grape classic, Omaha, with Stipe delivering a superb vocals. Lydon was equally on form with The Animal Speaks, suggesting that no band, even one this weird, could rob him of his core identity.
The album brought Fier and the Palominos to an audience who would never have sampled their work under other circumstances - R.E.M. fans, for one. The temptation undoubtedly proved too great, so they repeated the experiment on 1986's Blast Of Silence.
This was universally regarded as a retrograde step for a bunch of self proclaimed musical radicals, but the slight predictability of the concept didn't prevent the album from featuring several tracks that were every bit as succesful as their predecessor. This time, skewed pop visionaries like T-Bone Burnett, Don Dixon and Matthew Sweet were among the guest musicians.
With A dead Horse (1989), the Golden Palominos shifted into a third distinct phase. Gone were the superstar cameos (though Bernie Worrell and ex-Rolling Stones guitarist did add some subtle touches). For the first time, the Palominos featured a stable line-up, Fier being supported by the ever-present Bill Laswell, guitarists Robert Kidney and Nicky Skopelitis, and vocalist Amanda Kramer. She'd graduated through the electro-hip-hop of the Information Society, but discovered her true vocation on this calm, understated and strangely beautiful album, sending layers of harmonies over the occasional vocals of Robert Kidney.
A Dead Horse marked the end of the Palomino's decade-long relationship with the Celluloid label - and the cut-off point for this collection. Since then, the band has maintained a steady flow of releases, most of them on the aptly named Restless label. They've replaced Amanda Kramer with singer Lori Carson, gathered up a cameo appearance or two from the legendary funk bassist Bootsy Collins, and been subjected to that most predictable of mid-90s procedures, the remix album.
None of this has come close to making the Golden Palominos into a household name, or even into a music-making machine with an instantly recognisable identity. There's a suspicion that regardless of Fier's credentials, and his ability to attract daring musicians, the peak years of the Palominos ended with the 1980s. Maybe the title of A Dead Horse was prophetic, after all.
Peter Doggett
3 commentaires:
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ou alors rapidshare
Interresting ! Thanks
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