PUB.lication 02 by PUB Lication

music for the past, present and Future

EDITORIAL: This issue is a bit like therapy for me. Let’s just say I’m curing my distain for greatest hits albums. See I’ve always walked the line that individual albums are like complete pieces of art and hit compilations are just lazy ways to get down with an artist. See I’d say the chances are pretty high that you’re gonna miss out on tunes that were so great, the charts weren’t worthy of their presence. Take PYT for instance, I’m pretty damn sure that’s one of Michael Jackson’s best songs ever but did it make it on to his Number Ones albums? Did it fuck. No, instead you get You Are Not Alone from Michael’s ‘trying to fit into the 90s by getting the Nick Carter curtains hairdo’ era. Or Earth Song. I’m pretty sure that track made this crying earth weep shores, Mike. But then my very good friend Maria dropped a bombshell by informing me that Phil Collin’s …Hits albums had made it into her Top 5 Albums of All Times list. I wasn’t ready. Talk about double whammy. Phil Collins and a greatest hits album in your top 5? But ideas can grow on you. Once the initial shock wears off and you take a minute [or a year in this case] to recoop, crazy notions don’t seem that crazy anymore. Even ones involving short, balding pop idols. So let’s call this a celebration, of all the best ofs, the collections, the anthologies and the greatest hits.

Editor in Chief: Francesca Ronai Art Director: Farouk Adegboyega Agoro Web Editor: Raymond Okoi-Obuli Contributors: Akinola Davies Jr Maria Schönfeld Tom Donohue Aurore Carincotte Angela Ronai Illustrator: Anna Weeks Contact: editor@pub-lication.com www.myspace.com/pub_lication www.pub-lication.com

The Pros and Cons of Hithiking

the not-so-greatest hit collections

Do-It-Yourself Albums

making our own compilations

Take A Look at Him Now

why phil collins is the man

This Page Belongs To...

angela at tina turner

Recorded Music

greatest hits albums annie lennox/snoop dogg/america...

Ego crack stevens on shabba ranks

So I know we decided to call this a celebra-

tion and we should also be feeling sorry for hits albums because apparently, despite The Annie Lennox Collection riding high in the charts, it’s a dying formula. For the advent of mp3 downloads making back catalogues available songby-song has led to a veritable pick n’ mix attitude to slowly take over and before long hits records will be banished to musical no-man’s land along with the Zavvi in Piccadilly Circus, CD singles and audiophiles. But my up-until-recent vendetta against these best ofs hasn’t been without reason. For one, I consider myself a mild completist; the longstanding arch nemeses of the hits album already wallowing in no-man’s land. And when you already own everything the artists of your affection have released, a cheeky compilation album with one new track is just a nuisance. The whiz kid marketing strategist who started that behaviour is on my hit-list. Then there are those too quick to release their greatest hits, like throw-away reality stars who ‘write’ autobiographies when they’re not even past their quarter-life crisis. There are so many factors to a bad greatest hits albums that I thought I would compile a list [did I mention my penchant for lists?] of the worst offenders: the infuriating, the unnecessary and the unworthy can all be found below.

D’Angelo: The Best So Far “Hey guys, D here. James River will be out soon, I promise. But in the meantime buy this compilation of the measly two albums I’ve managed to release within the last 16 years… oh and I threw in a few random songs so you wouldn’t get too mad at me for this bullshit.” Call it what you like D, this ‘best so far’ is dickteasing crap. If I have to record your third album myself…

ABBA: Gold Yes, ABBA are entitled to a hits compilation considering the ridiculous amount of popular

tunes they have. But when there are so many ABBA collections, albeit under different guises, that you could build a small city out of them then I object. Imagining that city gives me the shivers. It would be like a never-ending hen party in polyester flares.

The Boomtown Rats: The Best Of Who are these dudes kidding? I’m pretty sure they only released one song; six albums must be a figment of Geldof’s imagination. So apparently Rat Trap also went to number one but even if it did, there is no excuse for the amount of Boomtown Rats’ hit compilations that this Best Of is just one example of.

Spin Doctors: The Best Of If you’re consistently showing up on one hit wonder collections, you’re probably not entitled to a Best Of. And it’s not even like the Spin Doctors were this really great band that we

New Kids on the Block: Greatest Hits For the cover alone, this album gets full marks: the music notation cardigan, the pseudo-quiffs and stonewashed jeans; just brilliant. But re-re-rereleases are like that boy who cried wolf; one day we just won’t listen anymore.

Creed: Greatest Hits

should’ve discovered more of. She Used to Be Mine or Cleopatra’s Cat aren’t bad but they’re not Two Princes, so we’re inclined not to care.

Fugees: Greatest Hits If this album is in your collection, you are not only lazy but also the biggest false economist on the block. The Fugees only released two albums, and a quick gander on Amazon has informed me that you can buy both of them for less than this farcical compilation. This is one of the sickest hip hop outfits from the 90s, go the extra mile.

Shakespear’s Sister: The Best Of Three albums, only one that produced anything hit-worthy and yet they still feel the need to compile. Maybe life is too precious to waste it figuring out what could be considered Shakespear’s best, or not?. We could’ve donated the time to worthy causes like ending world poverty or curing cancer. Because if anyone is still hampering to hear Stay they can buy Hormonally Yours and then regret it afterwards.

Let’s just be bold: Creed are pretty awful. The affectations of Scott Stapp’s singing voice and the sameness of all their music make for pretty dire listening. And there’s only a handful of bands that can get away with the amount of sickly, power guitar solos that Creed sneak in at every opportunity. Didn’t Poison even copyright that shit?

Vanilla Ice: The Best Of The theme seems to be that if you know you’re not worthy of having a greatest hits album you call it a Best Of. Don’t be fooled by this, I know it makes you feel like you’re missing out on some of Vanilla’s bests, like really he was a genius with hidden hip hop classics. But, trust me, you’re not.

Blue: Best Of Their biggest hit is a bad cover of another song and their three albums were all released over three consecutive years, so we’re pretty sure they were not in it for the art. But so as to not scapegoat Blue when so many countless pop acts are guilty of this quick release crime, here are a few other offenders: Jason Donovan, Hilary Duff, Five and Atomic Kitten. FR

The Do-It-Yourself Hit Albums No more than 8 tracks: making the Best Of albums as we see them Philip est 1965 David Bowie

Can You Here Me (Young Americans) It helps to surround yourself with Philadelphia’s finest musicians and soul backing singers but Teenage Wildlife (Scary Monsters) you still have to write and perform something A brilliant, twisted pop song that goes through this soulful for it to work. about six changes whilst building up to an awesome Robert Fripp guitar solo. Stay (Station to Station) Station to Station (Station to Station) Subterraneans (Low) For most pop stars the more drugs they take Not only did he almost single-handedly write the worse their song-writing becomes; but this the blue print for electro/pop in Berlin whilst re- proved to be the total opposite for David Bowie cording Low and Heroes, he made up a new in the 70’s. At the height of his cocaine fuelled language for this haunting ambient track. decline into nihilism, paranoia and the occult he produced the album Station to Station with Drive-In Saturday (Aladdin Sane) these two slices of pure funk and rock. David’s futuristic take on 50s doo-wop. Kat est 1987 Let’s Dance (Let’s Dance) Chemical Brothers A monster pure pop funk hit with a Stevie Ray Vaughan blues solo that made me buy a Strato- Hey Boy, Hey Girl [Surrender] caster. This catchy, punkish tune, their biggest hit to date, remained in the charts for 10 weeks. The Sweet Thing / Candidate / Sweet Thing (Reprise) vocal sample, taken from The Roof is on Fire by (Diamond Dogs) Rock Master Scott & the Dynamic Three, has A beautiful rock opera of a song in three move- lent itself well to being remixed and sampled on ments that just builds and builds. countless songs since.

Setting Sun [Brotherhood] Released in ‘96, the dirty, distorted ‘rave’ style adopted here is symbolic of dance music from the time. Featuring Noel Gallagher, it gave the Chemical Brothers their first number one. Francesca est 1983 Devendra Banhart Long Haired Child [Cripple Crow] What an opener for this freak-folkster’s hits compilation. A little bit reggae, a little bit rock n’ roll, a lot a bit flower child. Surgery I Stole [The Black Babies] Classic Banhart: crackly backing track and drowned vocals spouting nonsensicalities like: ‘Your eyes see sweet but your mouth tastes tin, Star Guitar [Chemical Four] the toothbrush is black, that’s the place where Instantly recognisable, this song has been re- you’re at’. mixed numerous times since its release, but the original still holds its own on a dancefloor. The Lover [Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon] breathy vocals make it spellbinding. Woah what do we have here? Is Devendra getting his hippy ass into the groove? Who knew Saturate [We Are The Night] he had it in him. Weirdly uplifting and dark all at once, this consumes you as it builds, twists and breaks. Ab- Don’t Look Back In Anger [Guilt By Association] solutely addictive. A different take on the Oasis back catalogue. I’m not sure what the silly accent is for. Believe [Push the Button] Dirty bass, big drums and adrenaline-fuelled Bad Girl [Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon] lyrics; strip away the acid house components, Well if we’re picking favourites, which we and there’s a song pleading for you to break should be, then this is it. Desperation transaway from the mundane and do something bet- lates well into simple, sad love songs. ter with your life. Long Song [The Black Babies] All Rights Reversed [We Are The Night] A song about a song, how genius. The lo-fi A slightly different style for the Chemical Broth- recording and abstract lyrics on The Black ers with very powerful lyrics from indie band Babies EP made it the perfect introduction to Klaxons. Devendra’s little world that his music creates around him. I think I want to live in it when I The Boxer [Push the Button] grow up. All about trying to suppress drug addiction; featuring vocals of Tim Burgess of the Charlatans, An Island [Niño Rojo] And so to the closer: a little ditty about how The Big Jump [Push the Button] eyelashes are islands and eyes are people’s The consistent beat works with the bassline friends. When songs are this bizarre you can and repeating ‘the big jump’ throughout builds have it mean whatever you like. I’ve decided up the momentum. this track is romantic.

Long before he was being

ripped off by chocolatepeddling primates, Sir Phil Collins (knighthood pending) was changing the face of music one epic soulbearing synth symphony at a time. Who among us can say they haven’t air drummed wildly to In The Air Tonight? Rolled up their blazer sleeves and jammed to Easy Lover? Taken that special lady in your arms while One More Night played out softly? Or cried to the Tarzan soundtrack? [Perhaps that last one is just me]. Phil is Mr 80s. In a decade of anthemic ballads crammed into the charts like Whitesnake into spandex, Phil clocked up one life-defining hit after another. “But you were only born in 1983 Tom, how can Phil have touched your life so deeply?”, I hear you cry. Well, like many of a child of the 80s, I grew tired of suckling at the teat of R&B and rap. The modern world was full to the brim with cars and shoes but, like the lion in The Wizard of Oz, lacking any heart, in short the breast milk had turned sour. Facing a bleak musical future, I chose to look to the past. When I did, I found in Phil, the short, bald emotional man that had always been inside me. And so I say to all: Phil can touch you too; you just have to let him. The earth-shatteringly phenomenal …Hits album is the perfect way to open your heart to the magic that is Phil. It’s all I have ever needed to get me through bouts of heartache, make otherwise non-descript car journeys lifeaffirming and has been my saving grace at more than a couple after parties. Once Phil is on I can put my incessant need to mp3J away

take a look at him now: why phil collins is the man

The Legacy: We must not forget where Phil has really made his mark in this world: on the lives of millions of drummers worldwide. He not only laid down some of the raddest solos of all time, but post Phil [ok, with an honorary mention going to Ringo and Don Henley], drummers were no longer consigned to the floor of the tour bus and the chubbiest groupies, the sky was the limit. And so to a mini-list of drummers that sing true to the art of Phil:

Sheila E

and sit back knowing that I have done a great thing. Although Another Day in Paradise may have had a negligible effect on the plight of the homeless [although it did Brandy and Ray J a solid], the way it opens the album leaves you in a flurry of emotions. Swiftly followed by Easy Lover: perhaps the best male-on-male mixed race duet of all time [beating off [no pun intended] the not inconsiderable challenge of Charles and Eddie]. Each tracks is worthy of praise. Some, such as Take a Look at Me Now for leaving me yearning for a love that only Phil can describe and others like Something Happened on the Way to Heaven for making me never want to listen to music without a horn section again. The man is no stranger to the extended intro; a tactic wonderfully employed on his two final greatest hits, Take Me Home and In the Air Tonight. Collins, like a miniature musical angler casts his atmospheric, brooding line and reels you in as you anticipate the coming nirvana that is the chorus. It doesn’t matter how many times you listen to these songs the feeling of sheer orgasmic relief is always the same, that dear reader is why I love Phil and why if you are a member of the human race, an unusually smart dolphin or an ape that can use sign language, you must own this album. TD/MS

A percussionist and drummer from Prince’s stable of musical superheroes, who sang, drummed, danced and was insanely hot all at the same time. Damn her talented ass. Greatest Hit:The Glamorous Life.

Dave Grohl

Notoriously went from drumming for Nirvana to leading the incessantly popular Foo Fighters. You all know the story. Greatest Hit: All My Life

Sebastien Grainger

Multi-tasked it for the sadly no-more Death From Above 1979. Greatest Hit: Romantic Rights

Kristin Grundred

Another hot female drummer and lead singer of the San Diego-based, Santa Cruz-born Grand Ole Party. Their 2007 debut Humanimals is still blowing PUB’s collective ears off. Greatest Hit:Turn On, Burn On

Simone Felice

Drummer and vocalist for The Felice Brothers; admittedly his brother Ian leads most of the singing but anyone who has been to a gig knows who the front man really is. Greatest Hit: Frankie’s Gun

Tina,

they should have been there, in the Colorline Arena in Hamburg, when you steamy windowed your way down to the footlights that night. Those doubters (male I might add, and themselves heading for retirement), who asked me later why anyone would pay to see a 70year-old (they even had to exaggerate your age) totter around on stage, couldn’t believe you still wore those tiny dresses at your age. Really? But I told them, Tina, I don’t need an(y) other hero, your story shines like a light for all women of my age and I’m glad you’ve come back to show us – and those men – that life is for living to the full. Just look how you overcame those lean-faced times with Ike, cast off your demure frocks, raised your hemlines, gave yourself a mighty leg up to the top and beamed that smile around the world. Tossing your wild hair, and kicking out at the whole idea of menopausal years with your high heel struts and shimmy-shakes in non-stop motion. How I’d love a bit of that courage, that energy and the sheer in-yourface embodiment of life. I thought it was all hype until I checked but now I know that I have Beyoncé, Oprah Winfrey and that other iconic woman, Sophia Loren, to thank for giving me a chance to see you perform live. I’ve watched you all through the

years, of course, on black and white TV in the 60s and early 70s, rhythm and bluesing before studio audiences, and in colour in the 80s taking the starch out of David Bowie’s white jacket on your Private Dancer tour and even getting Mick Jagger so heated up when only rock and rolling that he couldn’t keep his shirt on one moment longer. But then, at the end of your Twenty-Four Seven tour in 2000 just when you were at the pinnacle of life and showing what a W-O-M-A-N can achieve you, you bowed out. So tell me, how do you do it? Out to grass for so long (and it’s lush grass in Switzerland) yet not a fleck of rust to be seen. No creaking joints stopped you keeping up with the fast routines of your four girl dancers, led by Clare Turton from Sheffield (where you have another date in May I see, right after London), no gripping tight, except to your mike, as you were ferried up on hoists, glided down stairs or skipped along narrow gantries. You showed no fear of comparison with the athletic Ninjas who entertained us while you went off to change into yet another stunning costume, and though memory tends to be the stumbling block of age, I didn’t see you peep at any cue cards before giving us one great hit after another. From slow numbers – Private Dancer or Let’s Stay Together – to the Rolling Stones medley with Jumping Jack Flash – you paced yourself beautifully, sometimes seated with your band – Ollie Marland, Joel Campbell, Laurie Wisefield, John Miles, Jack Bruno, Euge Groove and Warren McRae – and sometimes in a fast-moving line-up with your great backing singers, Stacy Campbell and Lisa Fischer. AR

this month’s greatest hits album of choice: The Annie Lennox Collection [Sony]

See once was a time, circa 1993, when if anyone

heard Walking On Broken Glass once more, they were going to personally smash someone’s face in and walk on that instead. But I think we’re past that now. We’ve been over-exposed to so many songs since then that Annie’s megahit doesn’t even make it into the hall of irritation fame. There was that Timbaland featuring OneRepublic track where the ‘a’ kept being left off the word Apologise, and speaking of republics: Republica’s Ready to Go [yeah I bet you forgot how annoying that song was]. What else? Who Let the Dogs Out, My Humps, The Ketchup Song, Mambo No. 5, You’re Beautiful: a meaty list and yet only the frothing on the barrel full of tunes that burned our eardrums off in the last 17 years since Diva was released. And so now Annie stands on the cover of her own solo career’s collection giving the Gellar family fuck you [I just watched the entire box set from beginning to end, so you’ll have to forgive the Friends reference] to the rest of the reviews section: “Yeah Sting, I’m album of the month so take that message in a bottle…” There are no pavement cracks in this playlist and we’re even forgiving the sneaky marketing ploy of chucking in a few newbies [but I’m still after that whiz kid, whoever you are…]. Masterfully compiled; we’re treated to many Diva classics like Little Bird and Why, Medusa’s No More ‘I Love You’s’, Bare’s A Thousand Beautiful Things, Mass Destruction’s Dark Road. The collection is juicy and Lennox is legendary. FR

annie lennox

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recorded music: greatest hits albums

The Police Greatest Hits [A&M] Somewhere in a dingy room, with pulled-to curtains and a musty smell, Bring On The Night is shattered and depressed. “Why am I not included in this compilation?” it mourns. “Invisible Sun is a good song but I am far superior. Am I that under-appreciated for not chart-topping? “Oh sure, I was included in the 2-disc, 30 track anthology released in 2007 but so was the schmaltzy Wrapped Around Your Finger and that romper-stomper Rehumanize Yourself, who are completely inferior to my painful reggae beat, my lyrics and Sting’s expert execution of them.” And so this almost-perfect collection carries on life with its in-crowd of Police songs: Roxanne, The Bed’s Too Big Without You, So Lonely, Walking on the Moon, De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da…sweet Jesus, their catalogue of tunes is so watertight, it’s mind-blowing. Remember the way Every Breath You Take should’ve sounded before P.Diddy massacred it in a self-glorifying, career-enhancing tribute to Biggie? As excited as we are to see some PUB.licationapproved inter-generational sharing as Sting’s daughter Coco’s talent and ska-sensitivities continue to keep the torch alight, there is still no chance of any dust gathering on The Police section of our office’s LP collection. FR

Snoop Dogg The Best of... [Priority] Not having grown up in the ghetto, and having exorcised my early teenage angst listening to classic rock and neo-punk bands, my musical taste buds only grew accustomed to hip hop later in life. Long gone too is the time when I fancied myself only as a cerebral music lover, shunned the commercial stuff and sought the glory of the underground: the imports, the politically conscious texts or the mind-expending melodies. Today, I am not afraid to declare that I, also, am a sucker for a head-noddin shouldershruggin booty-shakin beat. This is where Snoop takes over. Just like you may want to watch a movie that won’t require you to think too hard, or perhaps hardly at all, but instead leaves you with a smile, Snoop Dogg’s Best Of has its place in my music collection for this very reason: it simply drips with comedic genius. With Suge Knight keeping Death Row releases greedily in his grasp, this album leaves off Snoop’s expected classics but from the cheesetastic Beautiful to the hilarious Snoopafella via the incredibly offensive Bitch Please, each track induces a chuckle. I defy anyone to listen to lyrics such as “I’ll be gentle, sentimental. Shit, we fucked in a rental” and not laugh. After all, where would the world be without a little poetry? AC

America History: America’s Greatest Hits [Warner Bros] Pompous seventies folk rock anyone? Hell yeah. How better would you like your hippy idealism and visions of the US as a never-ending road trip under big skies and through ever-changing landscapes served to you on a plate? I, for one, plan on taking this album to the Burning Man festival with me this year, perhaps I’ll even set up a camp dedicated to the music that perfectly soundtracks the daytime activities of that week spent in the Nevada desert. The History: America’s Greatest Hits Camp complete with daily listening party accompanied by chai tea and biscuits. Heaven. There’ll be men dressed as fairies, bare breasted women and dust-covered folks swaying to the melodic rhythm of Tin Man, embracing the lovein with I Need You [yes I do need you like the flowers need the rain, you ingenious bastards!] and then setting alight the symbolic Sandman. I’ll be the golden-haired sister and you’ll be Daisy Jane and together we’ll crescendo into an explosion of slide guitars, banjos and harmonicas. Then, like an extra, almost unbearable dollop of cream cheese icing on butter-based brownies, we’ll give them a glorious encore of A Horse With No Name. By and far, America’s showstopper: wow it feels good to be out of the rain. FR

Al Green The Definitive Greatest Hits [Capitol] Because I’m still stuck in second grade, I like to pick favourites. Favourite food, favourite colour, favourite cartoon character, favourite old school soul singer… Well obviously the list grew longer and the categories expanded as I worked my way towards 25. But yes, I’ve decided Al Green is my favourite. I like him better than Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, Curtis Mayfield and the lot. Listen to him for fuck’s sake. His music is so sexy. He’s tired of being alone, he’s full of fire, he’s there and he wants me to come and take him. And when I do he’ll adlib all over me in his breathy falsetto. Sheeee-eeee-eeeettt. I’ll take him to the river. But perving aside, Al Green has tracks. I’ve warmed up to the idea of compiling hits all onto one juice-filled disc but my one condition has been that the track list has to be limited to, at the very most, 15 songs. Al has 21. All of them throbbing under the weight of greatness. And so to my favourite of Al’s songs: Love and Happiness. Not the obvious Let’s Stay Togethering crowd-pleaser, L&H drags you so slowly behind its powerful soul train, never allowing you any easy satisfaction. It’s like a beautiful woman touchlessly teasing you to climax. FR

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ego: gurngurngurn.com’s crack stevens takes on shabba ranks ed in Bed, it motivates me to stop masturbating and refrain from telling lies about my sexual prowess. Shabba represented a host of artists that were my first few encounters with dancehall; Patra who was a bumper-grinding, long-braided, 10-year old boy’s wet dream. Or Chaka Demus & Pliers, a poor man’s version of KC and Jojo but still amazing in their own right. Greatest Hits is filled with the most notable Shabba anthems, from his early ragga-muffin days to his more culturally concerned later works, aka the boring stuff. At the time he collaborated with many of Jamaica’s hottest artists and producers such as Maxi Priest on Housecall or Cocoa Tea and DJ Home T on Pirate Anthem. The most nostalgia inducing track though has to be Ting-a-ling: a dancehall blockbuster! One thing I think I share with Mr Ranks, [he likes it when I call him that] is his appreciation for the female kind. Variations of scantily clad, gyrating women are a reoccurring theme in his videos. For Shabba, it’s his trademark glasses and if it’s early Shabba, definitely an open shirt with some white khaki trousers looking laid back but distinctively bossman. Late nineties Shabba went a bit black leather. But the epitome of our similarity is Original Women but needless to say it’s not one of the songs on the album - so whatever! But it makes me want to do weird and wonderful things to women, just more respectfully. CS

Bad and Wicked It must have been the early nineties and my

prepubescent days when I first feasted my eyes and ears on Shabba Ranks. He was the first dancehall I ever encountered and the first sexually charged artist I adopted as a father figure. Back then, at house parties we would wait till the lights were turned out and the slow jams were thrown on to try our luck with the lady types. But I was most excited when Mr Loverman with Chevell Franklin was thrown on. It allowed me to be at my most inappropriate and paved the way for a lot of dry humping. Anyway, a few years ago his Greatest Hits were released. I say a few years but actually mean in 2001. The hottest rhythms from Ranks’ albums were thrown together and regurgitated for our listening pleasure. A personal favorite is Wick-

anna weeks: www.myspace.com/anna_traume

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