One Sorry Blog

Dion McGregor gets weird in his sleep again
by Paul Carnevale

Listening to a man announce an obscure laundry list of scavenger hunt items, consisting of one of the swans in Swan Lake and a dirty napkin used by Garbo might be amusing to some. No? How about his ponderings of the mating of a unicorn and a werewolf? In the early 1960s, Dion McGregor — songwriter and professional couch surfer — recited hours of vivid conversations, wild stories, and brilliant songs in his sleep. The Further Somniloquies of Dion McGregor is the second in a series of dreams that captures the latest twenty-five enticing sketches.

While most middle-of-the-night mumbles would put you into a deep hibernation, McGregor’s theatrical read casts him as the lead in his own nighttime drama. For over two years, McGregor’s songwriting partner and roommate, Michael Barr, placed a microphone next to the head of our favorite sleep talker, and there now exists over 500 eloquent tales recorded on tape. McGregor’s inflections, accents and tone variations bring to life the joyful singing of a nursery rhyme about Little Willie who “shat right where he sat,” and the boisterous ranting of a lunatic claiming that it’s raining pitchforks.

There are pauses of dead air in the one-sided conversations, which add multiple levels of mystery to his dialogue. Since most of the recordings were made in the early morning hours just before McGregor awoke in the New York City apartment, the daily street sounds of truck traffic and car horns are sprinkled throughout the cinematic dreamscapes, showing up in the most serious of acts. His saga almost always ends in a horrific shriek just before waking, but before the tape ends. McGregor’s violent conclusions often end with him wildly swinging and knocking around unknown objects. At one point, he has obviously scared himself and calls out to his roommate, “Mike!”

McGregor’s numerous question and answer conversations are one consistency to these recordings. “Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Ed Laftus. Mom, Dad? Well, of course they’re my real Mother and Father. What do you mean? What do you mean, does it happen? Certainly, it happens all the time. Mom, Dad? You’ve hurt their feelings. Mom! Dad?!” He continually places us in the middle of his story but rarely gives us the details necessary to completely understand what we’re hearing.

In “All Over Evelyn,” McGregor furthers a relationship with his main female actor. “Oh, look at that … your neighbors are looking at you. Close it now, Mrs. Dangerfield, close your wrapper … I don’t want to see your ass Mrs. Dangerfield. Oh, everybody’s seeing everything, Mrs. Dangerfield. Call you … call you Evelyn? Alright Evelyn, alright, alright.” The two break from their formal relationship and continue on a first name basis. Later McGregor blushes as Evelyn takes his “soft and downy” hand, but things quickly return to their formality when the butler gets involved.

I’ve never questioned the authenticity of these recordings, but one could ponder if our friend is taking us for a spin. It’s been made clear by Barr and the record company that this is no hoax and that others have witnessed our sleep talker, including a psychiatrist and close friends of Barr.

The subject must have been brought up enough to include such writing in the liner notes: “If McGregor is acting, it’s an uncanny deception—he’s doing as good a job of it as Spencer Tracy or Jimmy Stewart ever could, combined with the writing skills necessary to devise such impossibly imaginative scripts.”

Believable? Yes. Miraculous? Definitely. This has to be heard to be believed.

The Adventures of Mike
Peeping Tom, Peeping Tom (Epicac Recordings)

By Paul Carnevale

From his oral percussion discharge on Bjork’s Medulla to his outrageous display of carnage with Fantômas, Mike Patton is truly a transformer of style. I’m never sure what to expect when I spy his name listed among the cast of performers on the liner notes of a record. He has a gift for showing up in the most unexpected of places.

Peeping Tom’s self-titled debut opens on stage in the midst of a campy 1960’s British film of the same name, with Patton sitting on the edge of his director’s chair. Following the premise of the movie, scenes of a young voyeuristic filmmaker turned serial killer become fused together in my mind while digging deeper into this accumulation of talent.

Via modern day file-swapping, a wide array of collaborators have joined forces with Patton to inject their musical habits in an effort to make their own unique tracks; soundscapes from Amon Tobin, raps from Kool Keith and nuevo-rhythm from Massive Attack can be found on their respective cuts. The friends took to heart precise direction from Patton and helped to evolve new pop trademarks.

“Mojo” cranks up with the human beat box cadence of Rahzel. Patton admits to being in his own universe when he sings, “It’s my party but I’m waiting for someone to start it / my party, it’s no one but me in the corner.” Take the West coast Hip Hop production from Dan “the Automator” Nakamura, add creepy, taunting vocals from Patton and interlace the turntable effects of Rob Swift, and I’m set for act one.

Patton’s breathy confessions atop the beautiful polyrhythm of Amon Tobin are featured in the hyper-atmospheric “Don’t Even Trip”. Together, this formula produces the album’s closest thing to a single.

Despite being Mike Patton’s most accessible release to date, the debut pushes the limit further with its lyrical content than with its music. The difference between this and other projects with the X-Ecutioners and Tomahawk is that Patton has brought back his hallmark voice from earlier days, delivering with a passionate ravenous range. While the guest list reads like a promotional release, the collection proves to be extremely indefinable.

“Your Neighborhood Spaceman” is a dreamy tale featuring a number of rhythm breaks and beat juggling by Jel and Odd Nosdam. “Celebrity Death Match” spills out with a dirty garage feel, but still manages to reference The Godfather, Dirk Diggler and Beyoncé. Still another highlight worth waiting for is “How U Feelin’?”, which references the high-gloss rock star lifestyle.

In the chorus of “We’re Not Alone,” (a remix of the song featured on Dub Trio’s own album,) I’m finally reminded of what Faith No More sounded like, yet I realize that there’s no going back for Patton. I don’t know what he’ll do next, but I’ll be one of the first to find out.

Editor’s note: Were you hip to Peeping Tom before Paul Carnevale reviewed it in Live from the Analog Playground? Does this review make you want to check out the album, or is it a crock? Let Paul Carnevale know what you think, or what you’d like to see reviewed in the future, by leaving a comment.

Lo-Fi, High Art
TV On The Radio, Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes (Touch & Go)

By Paul Carnevale

It’s not often that an album sends me searching for my good pair of headphones and switching my player to repeat, but I found myself doing just that with Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes, TV On The Radio’s 2004 full-length debut. The first few rotations will surprise you, but the hidden treasures keep emerging with subsequent listens.

TVOTR’s debut is a bluesy, layered landscape of drum tracks, spattering guitar effects and an unexpected array of horns that develop into dark, earthy, eclectic structures. Add that to crisp double-track a cappella lyrics, along with some old-world machinery and you have something extraordinary.

Being primarily a studio band that uses analog gear, old mics, a 4-track and Pro Tools, the sound produced by this Brooklyn outfit is unparalleled and unexpected. Co-founder (along with Tunde Adebimpe) David Sitek starts with a simple drum program, adds guitar tracks, scratch vocals, and finally a live bass guitar to fill in where needed. From there he admittedly plays the role of producer for days, going back and forth between the computer and tape until the precise combination is achieved and the finishing touches are laid down.

A rifling of fuzzy retro guitar, short punchy saxophone rushes, and in-your-face lyrics resembling Peter Gabriel come to fruition on the album’s first track. “The Wrong Way” haunts with its relentless pumping rhythm, yet provides all the unprocessed ingredients of a pop song, sans hook, climax and bridge. After declaring itself as a low-brow harmony, additional drum tracks and light atmospherics are carefully added, providing a wonderful intro into this band’s versatile repertoire.

This entire album is carefully produced without blurring or diffusing the richness of the band’s soulful sound. Sitek shows self-discipline in filling every hole and isn’t afraid of leaving enough space to keep me on my toes.

Adebimpe’s bright and soulful voice shines on the album’s second track, “Staring At The Sun.” His sky-high octaves tear through the synthesized strings and flat prodding baseline, surprising me with a gospel-like delivery on each verse and providing some spirited relief.

“Ambulance,” instantly transports me to TVOTR’s very own New York street corner, where the group decides to unplug their gadgets and gathers around a single mic and perform their own brand of intelligent doo-wop.

Kyp Malone’s reverberated guitar stabs repeat throughout the fantastic scenery in “Bomb Yourself,” which champions TVOTR’s organically designed craft. Heavy bass grooves repeat while the composition is comfortably minimized. Primal voices surge to the forefront producing a harmonic display that, as shocking as it is, would sound great over almost anything. Rather than exploding at the non-existent climax, the textures crumble, and simmer to a peaceful close.

On “Wear You Out,” the slow methodical drum track, guitar crooning and organ effects all combine for a steamy R&B love song about man’s eternal hunt for women. Experiencing this story proves worthy of holding out for the ninth track.

Although this album sounds as fresh as it did when originally released in 2004, David Sitek’s production still sounds like nothing else out there. I’m surprised by most of the songs on this album—one track easily moves in the opposite direction as the previous. Although this could qualify as lo-fidelity sound, please find yourself a good set of headphones and enjoy all the decisive moments.