Xgau Sez: July, 2025

Top three dream gigs, A plus upgrades briefly considered, enjoyable (not remarkable) bluegrass, the joy of doc (Swamp Dogg edition), the joy of disc (compact edition), and the TV party that wasn't.

Swamp Dogg (upper right) courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

If you could travel anywhere in time and place to attend a live music show, what would be your top three choices? For me: James Brown and His Fabulous Flames at the Apollo in ‘68, The Velvet Underground with the Exploding Plastic Inevitable in 1966, Nirvana at the Reading Festival in 1992 (edging out Elvis at a Sun Records show in 1956). — Randy, El Lay

Good choices all, obviously, although I wouldn’t be so quick to grab the Velvets (who I did see several-plus times during their justifiably legendary Danny Fields-conceived Max’s stay in 1970). But to be truthful the only rock act—putting JB in a category of his own (and yes, I did see him at the Apollo early on)—I couldn’t give up would be an early Beatles show, preferably in the UK ‘63 or ‘64 though I’d settle for Shea Stadium. That’s because I’d go for jazz: something like the Coltrane-Dolphy gig I describe briefly in my memoir plus pre-Charlie Rouse Monk (not that there was anything wrong with the Rouse gigs, some dozen of which I attended, just to catch Sonny Rollins or someone comparable), and, hell, Charlie Parker with Dizzy Gillespie anywhere.

I’m not sure why, but I was surprised when I read in response to last month’s Warren Zevon question that an “A” grade means “possibly an A+ one day.” Makes sense. With that in mind . . . dare or may I ask about Out of Time (and Document) by R.E.M., and Very by the Pet Shop Boys? Hope you are well. — Fred Hodson, Ipswich, Suffolk

FWIW, which is not much, none of those choices yells A plus at me, although any of them might plausibly qualify. But really, the only way to tell is to catch yourself raving when you put it on, whether because for some reason you’re essaying a career lookback at the artist in question or because the album in question migrated into your hand for no better reason than impulse.

I’ve been a fan of your reviews for several years, though I haven’t left a message here before. As a ‘96 baby, they’ve often nudged me toward albums with low exposure in my generation—Accept No Substitute, Wild Honey, Let It Be (Replacements), After the Gold Rush, It Takes a Nation of Millions. Each gives me compassion, joy, and—on even days—clarity. They regularly circulate in my living room. I’m curious how you feel about the newer crop of thoughtful, big-hearted country artists like Billy Strings. I’ve read and enjoyed your takes on Childers, Sturgill, Isbell, and the Drive-By Truckers. I wonder if you’d ever review Trampled By Turtles—or if you’ve heard Sturgill’s Cuttin’ Grass albums? It may be bluegrass for stoners, but those folks gotta cry and love too. — Will Shootman, Salt Lake City

Fact is, there’s not a lot of country on my radar—didn’t even know who Billy Strings was. And in general I’m not a bluegrass guy, which is not a judgment just a matter of taste—sounds too folkie. While for sure what I value most in country music is such singular vocalists as Jones, Williams, Parton, Cash, Lynn and the colloquial, connubial, humane, hard-edged songwriting they imprint on musical history. So out of respect and curiosity I Spotified Billy Strings’s Live at the Legion as I went down for a nap and as I figured found it enjoyable but not remarkable when I was conscious. Excellent “Tom Dooley” and “Don’t Think Twice,” give you that.

Curious about your recommendation of the new Swamp Dogg documentary Swamp Dogg Gets His Pool Painted, I googled “Robert Christgau Swamp Dogg” and found several album reviews as well as this “Additional Consumer News” from 1982: “Isaac Hayes’s Greatest Hit Singles (Stax) sound a lot better than they did a decade ago, while The Best of Swamp Dog (War Bride) sounds slightly worse, which is what happens when you have pop faith—I always knew Hayes had a sense of humor, but I didn’t know how much of it he got into his music because I was too busy groaning at his excesses, as in a sense was Mr. Dogg.” As a fan of “Shaft,” I streamed Isaac Hayes’ Greatest Hit Singles and loved every track, “By the Time I Get to Phoenix” and “Walk on By” especially. It’s funky and soulful simultaneously and really evokes the ‘70s with its great guitar sound and production. Have you played this album recently and do you stand by your assessment? — Rick Boone, Queens

Can’t be sure but I doubt it, because while Hayes’s professional skills have long been a matter of bizwise critical consensus, it’s more the pro in me than the fan in me who’s signed off on his rep. Also, I don’t exactly know what that “pop faith” remark means exactly. But on the other hand, my personal loyalty to Swamp Dogg, real name Jerry Williams, has never flagged—pretty sure I was the first reviewer to note his existence on his 1969 debut. And the documentary, one of whose producers is the now Austin-based Paul Lovelace, an old friend who did a student documentary on me when he was at NYU circa 2000, is both a hoot—it really is about his swimming pool—and a revealing look at the world of r&b studio musicians.

Hi Bob: You have been a longtime proponent of CDs, not only as the CD era began but even today. Amazingly, CDs are now a niche product, the technology the world has cast aside, like Walkmen or 8-tracks. Personally I remain a CD fan. They are simpler to care for and play, are light and portable, and take up less shelf space. They are, to sum up, compact. For a decade I’ve waited for our nation’s young people to grow tired, as we oldsters did, of devoting floor space to LPs, of toting them from apartment to apartment in milk crates, of running a cloth over them before playing, of rising after 22 minutes to turn them over to Side Two, but evidently they love all of that. What do you make of it, Bob? Have your own thoughts on the pluses and minuses of LPs changed at all? (The prompt for this was your reconsideration of John Lennon’s Rock ‘n’ Roll, which came about as you scanned CD spines, noting that many of your CDs are in sleeves to save space, and that LPs are “awkward to play.”) — David Allen, Claremont, California

The simple fact is that I quickly came to prefer CDs. For decades I used a changer all the time, often but by no means always stacking LPs and listening half-album by half-album, though for sure I carefully and pretty much punctually I stacked the B sides of anything with an A side that caught my fancy (while never again hearing many albums that failed to grab me). For a long time I thought a 20/25-minute running time was more “natural” than 45-60, and for sure one’s attention does flag over the near-hour or more so many CDs last. But I’ve learned to adjust in various ways. And I’m not the kind of audiophile who claims vinyl still sounds “warmer” or however that cavil is worded.

Above left: Christgau , Steve Pond, and news of the show that never was, from Rolling Stone, February 27, 1986

Hey, can you tell us a bit about the pilot you did with Steve Pond for an album-related variation on Siskel & Ebert? Was it fun? Did it seem to work as TV? Did you and he have chemistry? What albums did you review? — James K, Queens

Unfortunately, the details of this project, which involved a trip to LA when Nina was so young my fondest memory of the entire enterprise is walking her to sleep on the plane, and then rather later a trip to Minneapolis with different principals, has faded from my memory. There was always something screwy about the whole deal. Expect that some sort of physical pilot survives on a shelf somewhere. The producer didn’t really seem to know what he was doing. I liked meeting Pond though.