Friday, October 02, 2015

Great Composers Steal, Etc.

As promised, another tune by Nashville rockers The Thieves -- "All the Lines Are Down." From their fabulous late 80s album Seduced by Money, produced by Marshall Crenshaw.

I hadn't listened to that one in ages until yesterday, and imagine my surprise when it turned out to be remarkably similar to a mid-90s tune by a band featuring a bass player whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels.

Go figure.

Incidentally, re-mastering and reissuing Fire Lane is shaping up to be my big project for 2016. Hey, it beats playing drinking games during the Republican primaries.

Have a great weekend, everybody!


Anonymous said...

Vickie Rock made passing mention of this artist yesterday in her post. If you want to hear more songs written by Gwil Owen, leader of the Thieves, you should check out Toni Price's excellent debut CD "SWIM AWAY" (from 1993). Eight of the songs on it are written or co-written by Owen.

J. Lag

P.S. I think playing drinking games might be the ONLY way to get through the Republican primaries, particularly this time around.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for getting the reference and following up J. Lag. That is a great debut album. "Something In the Water," the Gwil tune which I referred to earlier, is on her Midnight Pumpkin album. Oh my love, let me go and fill your cup.

Every once in a while the moon plays a saxophone.

VR - back from Tucson via touching down in Yuma visiting old friends from the perico daze. Randy Newman tonight. I wonder how he's holding up. Gotta crash.

buzzbabyjesus said...

I couldn't even get all the way through the terrible generic lead guitar at the beginning because the drum sound sucks. I don't want to know what comes after.

Anonymous said...

It's just baby pictures. That's the way I view it. Developmental potential. But, no, they sure weren't Jason and the Scorchers. It's reflective of the Georgia Satellites kinda thing that was happening at the time. Critics latched onto stuff like this because at least it wasn't hair metal. Well it's 1989, OK. All across the USA. It's another year for me and you. Another year with nothing to do.

The production is shrill eighties crap. Marshall Crenshaw failed this band. Nothing breathes. It's all compressed into this harsh cheesy 80's youthsploitation B-movie mersh sound.

VR tightening the clutch basket nut for a long Sunday ride