With a brief look at some notables along the road, Chang Terhune’s Music Mondays aims to shed light on both new and old(er) music over a wide spectrum of sound (and vision). This week, 2023 Passages: Ryuichi Sakamoto, Mars Williams (The Psychedelic Furs), Andy Rourke (The Smiths), Sinéad O’Connor, Teresa Taylor (Butthole Surfers), Vivian Trimble (Luscious Jackson), Dave Jolicoeur (Trugoy Dove), and Tom Verlaine (Television).
2023 Passages
2023, like all years, was marked by the passing of many great musicians and artists alike. It’s hard to single out any as more or less meaningful than others. Of the many I’ve selected a few known to me that marked more of an end to an era than anything else.
Ryuichi Sakamota — In the 71 years of his life, Sakamoto created an immense amount of music. From his years in YMO to his solo work to his numerous collaborations with everyone from Thomas Dolby to Fennesz. Sakamoto was one of the few artists to successfully combine incredible musical talent with a willingness to experiment and play in his music. His final works are as groundbreaking. powerful and moving as anything created by someone a quarter or half his age. I could post a hundred links to his music, but at this time this simple and beautiful rendition of “Forbidden Colours” seems most appropriate.
Mars Williams — The saxophonist in rock groups often gets sidelined, well below in ranking after the singer, guitarist, bassist, keyboard player and drummer. One sax player who wasn’t was Mars Williams of The Psychedelic Furs. His playing was often front and center not just in their hit songs of their heyday but earlier. In memory of his passing I’ve included two videos. One is their song “Heartbeat,” which is a monstrous 80s disco track. But the first is “Sister Europe” from their debut album. It’s the first track of theirs I heard. Mars’ contribution perfectly captures the strange mood of the bands early origins.
Andy Rourke — As a kid, I was a big fan of The Smiths which should surprise no one. Andy Rourke was their bass player and as such was often overlooked in favor of Morrissey or Johnny Marr’s guitar work. But Rourke was perhaps the best kind of bassist—as a bassist myself, I know this is an inflammatory comment but here goes—in that he held the low end down firmly so the rest of the band could create their great tracks. He does it so well in all their songs, but the best example is in their first single “This Charming Man” where Rourke plays a perfect melodic line underpinning the vocals and guitars while keeping the rhythm steady and strong.
Sinéad O’Connor — As someone who’s struggled with their own mental illness, the death of Sinéad O’Connor was a difficult one. I didn’t follow her closely but had a couple favorite songs. Whenever I think of her, I always thinks of one of the first songs I heard her sing. A simple and clear voice ringing out of my speakers—singing in a way I’d never quite heard before. It always brings tears to my eyes especially after her passing. This is not an original video of the song but it’s a perfect accompaniment to the song. I hope you’re at peace now, Sinead.
Teresa Taylor (Butthole Surfers) — I admit I was terrified of the Butthole Surfers the first time I heard them. As a teen immersed in synth-pop and goth, their music was way outside of where I felt comfortable. I read about their live shows and even when the opportunity to see them might have appeared, I was too afraid to go. Part of their early lineup included Teresa Taylor. One of two drummers, Taylor’s kit was often snare, war toms and pretty much anything else. Not a large person, Taylor was often caught in the fray of the Buttholes legendary insane live shows. Perhaps the best way to remember her is with the entire PCP EP.
Vivian Trimble (Luscious Jackson) — Luscious Jackson were not given the credit they were due in my humble opinion. Their drummer played with the Beastie Boys for one thing but their music was understated pop that was ahead of its time in many ways. The music was a brilliant mix of indie rock, hip-hop, and electronica before there was even a name for it. Trimble’s vocals and keyboards were an integral part of what made their music. “City Song” and “Naked” were on constant rotation in my place back in the day.
Dave Jolicoeur (Trugoy Dove) — To say De La Soul changed everything isn’t hyperbole. They dressed like futuristic hippies when rappers were still sporting Kangols, K-Swiss kicks and dookie gold ropes. The music was mind-blowing when I first heard it. Hip-hop that dug deeper into rock than most had before with head nodding and head scratching samples. I was a huge fan of Eric B. & Rakim at the time and the two were similar while being at opposite ends of the very young phenomenon that was hip-hop. If they’d only made their debut album 3 Feet High & Rising, they’d still be legendary. Considering how primitive sampling technology was when they recorded it “Me, Myself & Eye” is even more monumental (also hilarious!)
Tom Verlaine (Television) — It took me far too long to get into the band Television, but once I heard them I knew I wasn’t ready until that moment. I was more into synth pop at the time and they looked way too out there and weird to interest me. But when I finally heard “Marquee Moon,” I realized I needed to hear more. Richard Lloyd and Tom Verlaine were doing weird wild and things on guitars that I’m still figuring out. This is a recent live performance of “Little Johnny Jewel,” which I first heard as covered by Siouxsie & The Banshees. It’s great to see the band still killing it forty years later.
