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MC5 - Anthology 1965-1971Who you callin’ whitey? Cleopatra recycles its MC5 reissue, Anthology, later this month, a two-disc flash retrospective of Lincoln Park, Michigan’s free-rockin’ colossus that (mostly) succeeded with interfacing James Brown’s more overt takes on Rock ‘n’ Roll as auditory cunnilingus and ‘Trane & Sanders’ god-bothering butt-trumpet squall. Approach, then at least, was secondary to belief-system: Built-in credo a necessity for every ‘70s band that ever shacked up with literati, drove to dunes for bark-at-the-moon fete, finding point and purpose in ‘caine and toothless subversion. Lots of people – other than Mr. Bangs – bought it apparently. Me? Always found MC5’s “plight of the black man” shtick just that. Musicians and politics unfortunately are prone to mixing. Like the dreaded Singapore Sling, idea is infinitely more appealing than the ingesting. Cleopatra’s reissue does dog-‘n’-pony with some of MC5’s more “loaded” tracks. Fans of roadside carnage get the “uncensored” “Kick out the Jams” with Rob Tyner hurling an F-bomb into uptight America’s anus from the get-go. Stupid covers and live ruse abounds. “Come Together,” “Baby Please Don’t Go,” and “Tutti Frutti” all get prominent billing here and come off like day-glo dildos superglued to St. Patrick’s pews. Two discs worth of live versions of “Rocket Reducer” would’ve been more welcome. Playing here, as usual, is chemically inspired dust devil type modus. But that doesn’t detract from a half-baked assemblage, which is status quo for the eternal reissue. Were Tyner alive today he’d probably call Obama a cracker. Hell, Mo Dowd does as much. Band’s politics now as hackneyed as this comp. The critically lauded, indeed, separate hemispheres from this approach. [White, privileged] kids may argue about the relevance ‘n’ reverence of R&B on Internet BBS these days, but they’re still sitting in Starbuck’s, sipping decaf latte, tweeting about musical opinions they like if only because they agree with them. MC5 had more addled opinions than Kanye West. And like Mr. West, it had an odd way of articulating them, mostly confined to: Medicate, form up, blurt. Cleopatra’s crew must have taken up the same approach with this comp in 2008. Committed archival archeology should be left in Get Back’s hands. The Italian label’s vast treasure plundering takes the crown by the jewels – and leaves the blackface for the messageboard minstrel show. [Stewart Voegtlin] Comments (2)Leave Feedback |
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Couldn't you on the other hand make the same case for some of this review, pontificating about music you don't like if only because you don't agree with them?
But yeah, point taken on the reissue front, and totally agree with you on the Get Back, showing it how it's done year after year.
I don't agree with Cleopatra's take on "anthology." Still, however, I refrain from tweeting about it "iirc."