Corrected: Of Note 011: Sleng Teng origins, Deep listening on "Subterranean Homesick Blues", A Ghost is Born, and The Kinks plus a history of cassettes (copy)
CORRECTION: The original email mistakenly did not include a link to Steven Hyden’s piece on The Kinks. Apologies for sending this email twice.
Howdy folks,
Great writing often starts with great listening and I think you’ll see that in the pieces I’ll share from the past month. Whether it’s tracking how Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” inspired country music, reevaluating Wilco’s A Ghost Is Born after hearing alternate takes, or tracking the true origin of the Sleng Teng riddim, the authors trust their ears and follow their curiosity.
I’ll close the newsletter out with some thoughts on the Of Note book of the month: Marc Master’s very fun High Bias: A Distorted History of the Cassette.
Tracking Down The Real Sleng Teng Origin
At The Quietus, DJ Wrongtom’s celebration of the Sleng Teng riddim, one of the first fully computerized accompaniments in Jamaican Dancehall, starts out with an incredibly written intro, describing a soundclash that rocketed the Sleng Teng riddim into popularity.
A succession of high-pitched snares sliced through the tweeters, and the whole crowd turned to Jammy’s speaker boxes as a strange new rhythm hit them in the ribs.
The early 1985 event was thought to be the origin of the famous riddim, but Wrongtom takes us back through time, tracing the origin of the Casiotone MT-40 that made the riddim possible and revealing that on the radio the same night as the famous soundclash many Sleng Tengs were already playing, as proven by a cassette recording made by a listener.
It’s a great story on its own, but it’s Wrongtom’s expert and deft writing that kept me going down the rabbit hole with him and learning more about something I had no idea about before.
Reevaluating A Ghost Is Born
It’s no secret that I’m a huge Wilco fan. I anticipate their deluxe anniversary albums with each release, but I will admit that the value of discs and discs of alternate tracks can be limited without close listening and some guidance.
I found Steven Hyden’s review of the new A Ghost Is Born box set over at Uproxx to be the perfect companion (but also shout out to Bob Mehr and his incredible essay included in the box set). Hyden foregoes cold analysis for a deeply personal reflection on his experience with the album, with interviewing Jeff Tweedy, and with how listening through the evolution of the album, particularly how the new lineup of Wilco coalesced, challenged his presumptions about “tortured artists.”
If you care about Americana-adjacent indie rock, he is one of the foremost examples of the “tortured artist” archetype, especially since he was able to survive said torture and persevere for decades as a healthier and happier person. But what to make of A Ghost Is Born? Why am I attracted to this record? Do l like it for the wrong reasons? Do I misunderstand something I profess to love? If so, what am I missing?
Getting Deep with Dylan and The Kinks
Sometimes a simple observation can lead to an interesting piece. For Don’t Rock The Inbox, Natalie Weiner pulls the thread on the rollicking rhythm and list-style verses of Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” to follow it all the way to many modern country songs. A really simple, but effective piece that doesn’t claim any huge revelations, but will poke your own curiosity and get you to listen closer.
Two in one month for Steven Hyden at Uproxx: this ranking of the best Kinks songs is exhaustive in the best way. Many of us probably don’t know The Kinks as well as we should and Hyden gives us an easy and enjoyable way in.
For an American who loves The Kinks, part of the attraction has always been their aggressive Englishness. For us Yanks, it isn’t relatable at all, but it definitely is exotic.
Book of the Month: High Bias: A Distorted History of the Cassette by Marc Masters
When I’ve told folks about Marc Master’s history of the cassette tape, I often find myself starting by saying, “You wouldn’t think a history of a recording technology would be this fun!”
The books is broken up 7 chapters, each covering a different aspect of the cassette’s history, from how it was developed as a technology to how it birthed DIY culture and many, many musical communities.
At only 173 pages, it doesn’t go especially deep into any one area, but it goes impressively wide and features compelling personal stories to highlight each theme.
What I found myself thinking often, especially in chapters 4 through 6 on tape traders, tape hunters, and the impact of personal mixtapes, was how much I longed for the communities described. I want to start recording my own mixtapes again and trade them with friends around town. I wanted to go find an old 4-track recorder and learn how to use it.
Maybe these feelings were heightened as I read this right after finishing Mood Machine (last month’s featured book) and was thinking so much already about what we lose when we let algorithms decide for us. In that light, the cassette didn’t seem a part of history, but a tool to fight against an undesired future.
Thank you for reading! See you next month!
Justin Anderson-Weber
