Têtes Noires, The New American Dream

As a rabid devotee to the music of '80s Minneapolis, I'm not sure how it took me so long to acquaint myself with Têtes Noires. Thankfully, writer Jim DeRogatis endorsed them on Sound Opinions, and I've been enjoying Têtes Noires ever since.



"Têtes noires" is French for "black heads," named for the band's hair color, and they released three indie-label studio albums over five years of touring*. Their second album, American Dream*, was recently remixed and reissued as The New American Dream, and I can't get enough of it. Years before anyone was called a riot grrrl, this irreverent sextet was reimagining punk rock (new wave? folk rock? help) with keyboards, violin, non-drum kit percussion, acoustic guitars, hand claps and up to six-part harmonies. The music is often upbeat, sung in cheerful voices locked in skintight harmonies graced by brash, subversive lyrics. 

It's rare to hear authentic punk music that you could put on a mix tape for your parents, which makes The New American Dream more dangerous than your brother's hardcore. Têtes Noires is the kind of band that can charm you into lowering your guard before landing one upside your head ("Recipe for Love," "Pretty Boy,") in a good way. The social commentary is sharp without being preachy, and relevant 30 years on ("Peace, Piece by Piece," "American Dream,") while the musicianship sounds tight but uninhibited. As songs like "True Love," "Moonie" and "Family Ties" earworm their way through me for hours on end while I struggle to catch up to them, I'm reminded of Ralph Ellison's quote about masking in Shadow and Act.

"It is in the American grain. Benjamin Franklin, the practical scientist, skilled statesman and sophisticated lover, allowed the French to mistake him for Rousseau’s Natural Man. Hemingway poses as a non-literary sportsman, Faulkner a farmer; Abe Lincoln allowed himself to be taken for a simple country lawyer—until the chips were down. America is a land of masking jokers. We wear the mask for purposes of aggression as well as for defense, when we are projecting the future and preserving the past. In short, the motives hidden behind the mask are as numerous as the ambiguities the mask conceals."

*Apparently their boisterous shows would sometime include a cover of Motörhead's "We Are the Road Crew". If anyone has a recording of this, please send it to me.
*Released in 1984, the same year as Purple Rain, Zen Arcade and Let It Be. What was in the Minneapolis water?

Brooklyn Calling

Does this look like the kind of mix that would have "I Just Called to Say I Love You?" Go to the mall.



Brooklyn Calling

1. Foo Fighters, "This is a Call"
2. Queensrÿche, "Revolution Calling"
3. The Rolling Stones, "Come On"
4. Muddy Waters, "Long Distance Call"
5. The Beatles, "You Won't See Me"
6. X, "Your Phone's Off the Hook But You're Not"
7. The White Stripes, "Hello Operator"
8. Chuck Berry, "Memphis"
9. The Grateful Dead, "Operator"
10. Kraftwerk, "The Telephone Call"
11. Blondie, "Hanging on the Telephone"
12. Al Green, "Call Me (Come Back Home)"
13. Lou Reed, "New York Telephone Conversation"
14. The Notwist, "Pick up the Phone"
15. Love, "The Red Telephone"
16. Penguin Cafe Orchestra, "Telephone and Rubber Band"
17. Prince, "How Come U Don't Call Me Anymore"
18. The Mothers of Invention, "You Didn't Try to Call Me"
19. The Clash, "London Calling"
20. Bob Dylan & The Band, "Long Distance Operator"
21. Tom Waits, "Telephone Call From Istanbul"
22. The Cure, "Wrong Number"
23. The Replacements, "Answering Machine"

23 songs that are less annoying than "I Just Called to Say I Love You" or "Call Me Maybe."

I put this together for some volunteers who will be making calls to help re-elect the President this weekend. For their sake, I'm not including the Dillinger Escape Plan or the Beastie Boys, although those might have been too distracting anyway. Thus, Brooklyn Calling doesn't get any heavier than "This is a Call," which, since Dave Grohl wrote it, will offend exactly no one.

Like many of my half-decent ideas, this one started with the Sound Opinions podcast. Every week, Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot kick off their call-taking segment ("On Sound Opinions, everyone's a critic, so give us a call on our hotline...") by playing a great song about the phone. Had I not heard them on Sound Opinions, I never would've picked out Chuck Berry's "Memphis" or "Come On," the Rolling Stones' first-ever single (also written by Berry) as phone songs. Kot and DeRogatis have also included "Operator," "The Telephone Call," "Call Me," "New York Telephone Conversation" and others on their show. Finally, thumbs up to Sound Opinions for featuring "Hanging on the Telephone," which I prefer to Blondie's more famous phone song.

Much has changed since the days of switchboard operators, and despite the underlying phone theme, many of these songs are hard to apply to the work that we do on the campaign. The most relatable songs here are definitely "Wrong Number," "Answering Machine" and "Your Phone's Off the Hook But You're Not."