Fahey Finally Finished!

 

Out of sequence here for a bit, but these next few albums are likely considered aberrations from the canon. The Christmas album is probably the one Fahey album most people have heard, and what a revelation at the time. Christmas music was usually the height of schmaltz when this LP came out, so how refreshing to hear traditional Christmas tunes and carols (nary a Frosty or a Rudolph to be heard) performed simply on guitar. Nowadays you can't shake a candy cane without smacking up against a Solo Piano Christmas, or flute or mandolin or dulcimer....you get the idea. My favorite track is "What Child Is This?", with a little reverb to get that extra-chilly moon-shining-on-freshly-fallen-snow vibe. The CD contains both the original LP plus a good chunk of the "Christmas with John Fahey II" LP, both including some of the longer pieces that bored most of my friends and family then and now.

 

 

 

 

So, then the contract with the Big Record Company. "Of Rivers and Religion" and "After the Ball" were on Warner Brothers, and as much as I like them, they're generally considered John's major flops. "Rivers" fared better -- only a few tracks featured extra musicians, and it includes the classic "Steamboat Gwine Round de Bend", which John dismissed later as a 'series of cliches' (we'll overlook the politically-incorrect title).

The Dixieland touches aren't garish, but they are more prominent in "After the Ball", whose cover I'll spare you (imagine Fonzie bringing Mrs C to the prom...it's THAT BAD.) I remember picking the LP up at the Cellophane Square store in Seattle's U District, and it was a white label promo copy (that alone should have tipped me off that maybe this wasn't primo Fahey). But it was one of the first Fahey albums I ever owned, so I wasn't aware that he didn't normally perform with members of Andy Williams' back-up band. But still, "Horses" and "Beverly" are great songs, and the "Spanish Two-Step" update "Hawaiian Two-Step" (with ukuleles!) is delightful.  They've been reissued on Collector's Choice, not my favorite label, but what are you gonna do if nobody else will put 'em back out?

 

 

 

"Fare Forward Voyagers (Soldier's Choice)" was John returning to Takoma, licking his wounds, I imagine. It consists of 3 longer pieces, and it reminds me of what John sounded like live. I don't know if he was playing a medley or what, I just remember this torrent of sound pouring from his guitar. I'm still getting used to the first 2 tracks, but the 3rd (the title track) I liked from the first. According to reviewers, John's style was beginning to adapt Indian music, and as much Indian music as I've listened to over the years, I just don't hear it in John's playing. Maybe reviewers were struggling to find comparisons, and the longer raga form seemed appropriate. It took me a while to place some of the "strangled" notes -- I hardly recognized "Amazing Grace" on "America" -- but now I hear echoes of Irish pipe music, which always sounded to me like someone choking an oboe.

.  

 

Finally, I picked up "The Best of John Fahey Vol. 2", and it's a good package, mainly because there are several rare or unreleased tracks included, and there's a good chunk from "Railroad", one of the last albums before John went headlong into noise and 'alternative' guitar. Then came the ravages of Epstein-Barr syndrome, diabetes, divorce, drink...well, I prefer to remember the earlier days. John passed away in 2001 after a sextuple-bypass operation. He always went his own way, and in that sense, I like to think of him as the Neil Young of acoustic guitar. Long may he wave.  

Fahey: Let's Wrap This One Up, Shall We? Uhh, Not So Fast - Part One...

John left Takoma, his own label (huh?), to record two albums for folk standard-bearer Vanguard (oh, more $$$, okay, I get it), and other than the tracks excerpted on the "Repressed" set, I haven't heard these albums. It's confusing to me, because the Fahey recording timeline is very intertwined -- he'll release an album on Vanguard while he's still recording for Takoma and/or Reprise.

So skip ahead to "America" from 1971 (on Takoma), imagined at the time as a 2 LP set, edited down to 1, but re-issued on CD as the 2 LP version (minus 2 minutes). Sounds like A MAJOR STATEMENT is intended here, and..., well, he pulled it off. Traditional tunes rub elbows with classical transcriptions ("Dvorak") and John's longer pieces -- and it all works for me. Okay, I'd happily take back the missing 2 minutes if you'd instead take them out of the last song "The Waltz That Carried Us Away and Then a Mosquito Came and Ate Up My Sweetheart". Oh, and 6:30 or so into "Voice of the Turtle", there's a series of descending guitar chords that later show up (also 6:30+ minutes in) in 1973's "When the Fire and the Rose Are One". Yes, I listened carefully many times to verify this - no slacking off here! I do my homework!!

"America" contains 3 longer songs, between 11 minutes and almost 16 minutes -- and they work. I mentioned much earlier that John doesn't really do 'back-porch, settin' on the porch swing' tunes -- his version is much darker -- but "America", "Dalhart, Texas", "Mark 1:15" and most of "Voice of the Turtle" wouldn't be out of place on that porch. Maybe John's demons were taking the summer off?

   Then the leap to Major Label again, this time Reprise Records (Frank Sinatra's boutique label, part of Warner Brothers). Woo-hoo, big bucks once again! What to do? Hey, let's hire Andy William's touring band to play Dixieland! Good idea? We'll see ... next time!

Tig Notaro Live (I'm Just Now Catching Up...)

This was a big story last year, but I just now heard the routine (thanks, library!), so this isn't nearly as timely as it should be... but hey, with Thanksgiving right around the corner, maybe it is.

Tig is a stand-up comic, and prior to a show, she learns she has breast cancer. Suddenly, the jokes she'd planned to tell that night seem shallow, even pointless compared to what she's experiencing in her life. So she dives off the deep end, ditches her prepared material, and instead talks that night about what's on her mind, the cancer, the recent death of her mother, the recent illnesses, the recent romantic break-up (tough few months!) -- basically, using the audience as therapist -- a recipe for disaster, right ? The recording isn't easy to listen to, but it's not depressing, it's ultimately about survival and being supported by your audience, about facing the worst and taking it and sharing it and getting through it.

You really have to hear it to understand how it's NOT depressing. It's certainly not 'funny', but there are laughs, and I actually teared up at the moment Tig apologizes for not doing her usual material, and asks "Should I just go back to telling jokes?" and a guy from the audience responds "No, this is f**king amazing!" (well, that's my best recall).

The second (shorter) disc in the package is worth a listen, but it's not the revelation that the main show is. So, bottom line: I wouldn't listen to this in the car on the way to Grandma's, but we sat down and listened together as a family for the 30+ minutes and had a moving experience. Maybe you will too.

A Very Late Correction

Good evening, faithful readers!

Way back on 9/10/11, I made another mistake! The Pullman WA Tull performance I referred to was on the '25th Anniversary Box Set', NOT "A Little Light Music". Apologies to all of you who rushed to purchase ALLM and were sorely disappointed!

Fahey Part 3

And once again, serendipity! Found a used copy of Fahey #3, "The Dance of Death and Other Plantation Favorites" at Everyday Music in Bellingham (probably the one I sold them a year or two ago...) It's great -- what was I thinking? DOD has more dissonance mixed into the traditional, so maybe I wasn't used to it at the time, and one or two songs sound like John's still tuning up, but still a good album. One thing I have noticed working through the canon is that to me, the early records were in black and white, and John slowly added color when he wrote his own material. Later releases added some studio refinements (echo) and uh, oh -- many more musicians. But that's further down the line. Now, back to our story..

"The Transfiguration of Blind Joe Death" continues the awful record cover tradition, and oddly enough, it's not on Takoma, John's label, but Riverboat Records, John's other label -- huh? I don't get it, but it's considered John's 5th album, even though some sources say it was recorded before #4. I'll leave that to the scholars. Bottom line: to me, it's the last of John's 'traditional' albums, and one of his very, very best. (He'd still do trad, but he'd experiment more, and his songs were becoming more John than the source material.) Surrealistic moment: "Tell Her to Come Back Home" -- wait, that sounds familiar, where have I heard it before --- oh jeez, Andy Griffith sang it on the porch on "The Andy Griffith Show" where it was called "Get On Home, Cindy Cindy"!

#6, "Days Have Gone By", features so many of my favorites: "Night Train of Valhalla", "The Revolt of the Dyke Brigade" (he's since apologized for the title), "A Raga Called Pat - Part One". He gets more experimental here (or weird, depending on your perspective). "A Raga Called Pat - Part One" mixes in snippets from the railroad sound effects classic "Steel Rails Under Thundering Skys" (yes, that's how they spelled it). Then "A Raga Called Pat - Part Two" adds bird songs. No, not chirping, but squawking -- egrets??  Sounds like "Last Train to Okefenokee Swamp".  And here the traditionalists break camp...

John Fahey Again

First of all, a correction or rather an explanation: the mistakes in track listings I ranted about on "The Best of John Fahey" were evident on my old 1979 edition; it's since been remastered with 3 bonus tracks, so I assume the problem has been corrected. But still... 

So here's where it all started for most of us: "The Legend of Blind Joe Death" (hereafter referred to as BJD), the first in the true canon of John Fahey (Revenant Records resissued some of the fake 78s he recorded, but I think those were mostly hokum and novelties.) BJD was recorded in 1959, and John sold LPs from the gas station where he worked at the time, and he later re-recorded most of the tracks in 1963 and again in 1967. The CD version of BJD features both the 1963 version and the 1967 version, and they both have their charms, 1963 sounding dusty and a little tinny, and 1967 has better sound and more refined picking. These are all traditional (or traditional sounding, at least!) There's also a bonus track of the 10+ minute track from 1959 "The Transcendental Waterfall", but to me, it lacks the cohesion of John's later experiments in longer forms. BJD is a great album, and if you were going to limit yourself to 2 or 3 Fahey albums, this would certainly be a top contender.

"Death Chants, Breakdowns and Military Waltzes" is the second album, and the first of too many with awful covers (I seem to remember it having an altogether different cover, but that may have been another reissue.) This too contains 2 versions of the original, one from 1963 and the other from 1967. Again, the 1963 tracks gain in atmosphere what they lack in fidelity. This one's also trad, and another for 'must have' contender. Song titles continue John's whimsical/arcane references.



Sadly, Volume 3 is currently missing from my collection (but a lot of it ended up on "The Best of John Fahey"). When I had a copy, I never listened to it as much as some others, but I' guessing I was wrong in my assessment, so it may be time to reevaluate "The Dance of Death and Other Plantation Favorites".

I think this may be where I came in; my college girlfriend had a copy from an old boyfriend. John started experimenting more with Volume 4, called "The Great San Bernardino Birthday Party and Other Excursions". The title track is 19 minutes long, and there's some backwards guitar on "Knott's Berry Farm Molly", plus flute and organ (separately) on other tracks. This doesn't usually pop up on 'John's Best' lists, but I've always liked it a lot. Later I heard John's Christmas guitar album, and a collection with labelmates Leo Kottke and Peter Lang, and my collecting days began in earnest.

Remembering John Fahey: A Work In Progress

Hoo-wee. So many albums, so little time! As someone said once, you either have one John Fahey album or you have at least ten. I fell headlong into Category 2, so I need to do more homework before reporting back on my suggested Fahey purchases. To repeat an earlier review, "Return of the Repressed" captures tracks across the spectrum, but it falls off near the end when it includes John's post-illness tracks. BUT it's the best collection to date. Buy it. I'll pay you back if I'm wrong (all three of you followers!)

Still, it may try to include too much, but jeez, this collection (The Best of John Fahey 1959-1977) ... No problem with the tracks selected, excellent in that regard...but the track list on the disc is wrong. The songs listed are all on the CD, but NOT in the order presented. Think I'm being a bit anal? This is on Takoma Records, which John Fahey founded, and they can't get the track listing right on his first "Best Of"??!? 

Talk about a prophet in his own country getting 

NO RESPECT!! 

More to come --- mostly recommendations, not rants! 

Latin Jazz, My Latest Homework Assignment

This starts in the middle of things, or rather, it gained momentum in the middle. I borrowed this from the library in Anacortes and loved it, so of course I had to get a copy. I knew nothing really about latin jazz (and still don't really), but I've explored Brazilian music and this was kinda in the ballpark.

Then a week or so ago, I borrowed "Psychedelic Blues" by Poncho Sanchez from the library after hearing the title track on NPR.

Well, there's really nothing 'psychedelic' about it as far as I can hear, but I did get to hear the fantastic "Willie Bobo Medley" which featured "I Don't Know", "Fried Neckbones and Some Homefries" and "Spanish Grease". "Fried Neckbones" was a bonus track on one of the remastered/reissued early Santana albums (it may have even been part of their Woodstock performance. Speaking of Woodstock, did I mention that the version of Santana's "Soul Sacrifice" -- the highlight of the film for me --- was actually an edited version. Eventually the full version was added to the reissue of the first Santana album -- if memory serves -- and it's like 2 minutes longer! But here's the catch -- the edited version is better! Just that much trimming of the boring parts of the drum solo elevated that track to genius! But back to our story...) Okay, so Santana is aware of Willie Bobo, and "Spanish Grease" really sounds like Santana's "No One to Depend On" with different words -- what's going on here?

So I dusted off this great Latin comp I'd forgotten about:

and it's full of some latin jazz stars that I'd heard mentioned in interviews with Carlos Santana. Hmmm, this is getting interesting... So I did what every library-type person would do:

I checked out a book. This one's by John Storm Roberts, who I'd heard about from his record label Original Music, which specializes in traditional music of the Caribbean and, you guessed it, Latin America.

Music geek that I am, this is my idea of heaven. I get to explore this fascinating genre of music with a book at my side giving me guidance and pointing out the connections between all these great artists. This will certainly keep me busy for a while, but I'll report back on my findings soon.

American Primitive Guitar and John Fahey

I try not to be a completist, but lately I've noticed CD prices dropping to ridiculous levels, and I've mentioned before that the window of how long a CD stays in print seems smaller all the time, so if I can fill in some gaps in my collection, now's the time.

I also now have a working CD player in my car, so I'm freed from the tyranny of radio for now, but as much as I've complained about it, I have heard some great things, some of which lead to even better things. Case in point: KSER played a track from one of the "Imaginational Anthem" guitar anthology CD series, and I was curious about others in the series. They're mostly compilations of semi-known and fairly unknown acoustic guitarists that could be generally placed in the John Fahey school of what he sometimes referred to as "American Primitive Guitar", a rural pre-war blues/ragtime/folk/gospel amalgam of styles, of which Fahey stands Colossus-like above the crowd.

I listened to snippets of the series, but Volume 6 really grabbed me; it's the Rosetta Stone of the Fahey style. I knew that Fahey's interest in old 78s informed his musical direction, but his was more than just a copy -- he added classical touches, Dixieland and subtle dissonance to forge his own very individual style.  But Volume 6 collects, as the liner notes say, the "primordial universe that spawned and nurtured Fahey". Drawn from 78s by Riley Puckett, Sam McGee, Sylvester Weaver and more (with some politically-incorrect titles like "Darkey's Wail" and "Tramp's Waltz"), this is the stuff that set Fahey on his journey. They sound like rough drafts of later Fahey works, and of course, in a sense they are, and some ("Knoxville Blues") Fahey even covered.

I took a jazz appreciation class years ago, and I couldn't understand why we had to spend so much time listening to Fats Waller and Louis Armstrong when I wanted to get to Charlie Parker, Miles Davis and John Coltrane. Duh. It helps to know the foundation first. This "Origins of American Primitive Guitar" helps me get some insights into John Fahey's music, and I'll listen with more informed ears.

The label that issues the "Imaginational Anthem" series is Tompkins Square, and they do a great job. The tracks are mastered from 78s, so there is some surface noise and you'd never call it 'high fidelity', but after a few minutes of listening, you get used to it. Sure, I would have liked more than 14 tracks, but really, this is more about quality than quantity.

More on John Fahey soon!

John Martyn, Postscript

As Island Records releases remastered versions of John Martyn's classic albums, I've slowly replaced some of my favorites. As more and more people abandon CDs for downloads, the window of opportunity to buy CDs at reasonable prices gets smaller and smaller, and once they've gone out of print (again), prices start climbing. I missed the boat replacing some old reggae albums, and now used copies are big bucks. Same with NRBQ (I assumed that being on Rounder Records would give NRBQ unlimited shelf life -- not so much!)

So I sprung for the 2009 remaster of probably John Martyn's best, most consistent album, "Solid Air". Sounds great, of course, but there's a second disc of alternate takes, live tracks and unreleased-until-now bonus tracks. (Island has taken this to extremes lately -- there's like a 17-disc Martyn box with somewhere close to 3 hours of bonus material. Even if I did win the lottery, I'd have to devote the rest of my life to listening to it all.) That being said, there are 2 bonus tracks on the "Solid Air" set that I really enjoy: "In the Evening" and especially "When It's Dark", 8:36 of pure perfection. I have no idea why it wasn't included on earlier versions of "Solid Air", maybe because you can hear the germ of another song that ended up on John's next album. Whatever the reason, I certainly glad it finally made its appearance.

"The Tumbler" was John's second album, and there's no remaster yet. For me, it illustrates "you can't go home again". It's a nice album, but having followed John's career since, it's a bit light and unfinished compared to where he went later. I think if I'd heard it when it initially came out, I'd hear it with more nostalgic affection, and the blemishes would be endearing rather than slightly uncomfortable. Still, it was nice to hear on some of our beautiful summer days lately.

Junior Kimbrough:Most Things Haven't Worked Out

Is that the best title for a blues album or what?? Way back during this blog's early days, I mentioned the film "Deep Blues" about Robert Palmer (no, not that one) and his trip to the backwaters of the South to find undiscovered authentic bluesmen still performing. Fat Possum Records has released albums by, among others,  R L Burnside and my favorite, Junior Kimbrough. Forget Stevie Ray Vaughan, B B King or (yeesh!) Eric Clapton. These Deep Blues guys are not the least bit polished or technically accomplished; they might as well be drumming on shoe boxes and plucking a mop for all the proficiency displayed. But, but...man, do they tap into something primal and earthy and rock-frickin'-SOLID.  Primal like Ali Farka Toure or Hamza El Din -- this is stuff straight from the motherland. And when Junior gets into the groove, it's mesmerizing.

Here's another example: when I first discovered reggae, I liked the slick, polished Third World version. Bob Marley (then only just beginning to become the LEGEND) was still 'yard', scratchy, thinly produced --  and forget ska and early reggae. Jeez, they sounded like field recordings, and I hated them. Eventually, I worked backwards, and now those dusty tracks are my favorites. Third World really wanted to be the O-Jays, and I still appreciate their music, but give me something with a little grit in the grooves, please.

So back to Junior: I fell in love with his performance on the "Deep Blues" DVD, filmed in his wooden shack/juke joint called Junior's Place, his face lined and battered like some blues Cyclops, one eye seemingly working on its own as dancers shuffle and strut like it's the last Saturday night on earth in Mississippi. "All Night Long" is the live one from 1995 with the long send-you-into-a-trance songs, and "Most Things..." is from 1997, with a different producer, venue and band but still a keeper.

My Apology to Bruce Springsteen

Originally I was going to title this "Bitch-slapping Bruce Springsteen", because that's what I felt like doing. But why, you ask ? (And why risk getting the holy crap beat out of me?) I was recently listening to the compilation "The Essential Bruce Springsteen" (Bruce gets 3 CDs in his 'Essential' set, but Dylan gets only 2? Really?) and I had to face my bete noir in the form of the title track from "The River", and all my anger rose to the surface again. But let's go back in time a bit, dear reader...

I wore out my 45 of "Born to Run". I lipsynced the screams, I did my best fake mike work, and you know I played my air guitar while falling to my knees. And yet...when I heard the "Born to Run" album, it didn't rock enough for me. Was it the piano? The organ? The tight-ass arrangements? I've read that Bruce obsessed with getting just the perfect sound, but it sounded tied down and airless, fake street punk as arranged by Yes. Sure, I still waded through the corny street opera in "Jungleland" to get to the magnificent Wolverine howls at the end (and my late dog Norm howled along) -- but like Ebenezer Scrooge facing the ghost of Jacob Marley ("You might be a bit of underdone potato -- there's more of gravy than grave to you!"), I heard way more Laura Nyro and "West Side Story" in "Born to Run" than I expected. (But then the live box version of "Rosalita" is just as  over-arranged, but it's in my Top Ten Live Faves, so go figure.)

Over the years I heard enough Bruce I enjoyed to warrant my own crappy self-selected cassette best-of compilation. Bruce himself suggests that "The Essential" isn't for the fan but the casual listener (though the 3rd CD collects enough rare tracks that the dedicated fan has to bite.) But skimming through "The "Essential", I once again run up against the song that always gets me angry: "The River". Plot: kid hangs out by the river/reservoir, checks out Mary, fine and tan, oops he gets Mary pregnant "and man, that was all she wrote/ And for my 19th birthday/I got a union card and a wedding coat". Now he's stuck in this dead-end town, married and working at the factory until he dies. This is his life from now on. Even the river has dried up! (Enter stage left, pathetic fallacy!)

This song pissed me off no end. Hey, remember the part where Mary's pregnant? -- you have a child, you SELFISH BABY! Yes, you'll have to WORK to support your FAMILY. OH MY GOD, nobody's ever done that and LIVED!! And get this -- you have a union job! You're not slapping burgers at Mickey D's -- you have a decent wage AND HEALTH BENEFITS!!

Deep breath. And there's more. Songs about dreams gone dry, women sitting smoking on the porch in the dark wondering where their life went... I get it, I really do. I understand disappointment, and despair, and feeling trapped. BUT there's more than just YOU in this equation, boyo, and you need to be a man and strap 'em on.

I thought "Is this how Bruce sees the world? How old is he?? What a frikkin' baby!" Then finally it dawned on me that Bruce is writing about a character. Oh, and maybe he's pointing out (so subtly that this English major missed it) that maybe the character is immature. Umm, duh.

So...I apologize, Bruce. I didn't understand. I wouldn't dream of attempting to bitch-slap you. Thank you for giving me time to get the picture. I just needed time to let the characters grow up, and, heck, grow up a bit myself.

Incredibly Strange Music series

These two books are titled "Incredibly Strange Music", and that's just what it's about: interviews with record collectors and/or performers who acquire music of the bizarre, the kitschy, and the mostly indescribable. Featuring the Cramps, Eartha Kitt, Martin Denny, Rusty Warren (yikes!), Yma Sumac and many more, it's a quirky but affectionate look at the fringes of vinyl collecting, and yes, a sad appreciation of an era more and more difficult to maintain. As most all of the interviewees complain, the days of finding LP treasures in thrift stores or junk shops is pretty much over, since album price guides and online searching has sucked most of the gold from the marketplace.                                                                                                                  

 

                        It's been a few years since I read these, and in re-reading them, I was struck by how much affection was expressed for the weird. Whether it's the tiki exotica of Martin Denny and Arthur Lyman, or the electronic experimentation of Robert Moog and Gershon Kingsley, or the innumerable rockabilly, r&b, humor or country albums mentioned, every single collector expresses sheer joy in the treasures they've managed to amass over the years --- and the joy they feel in sharing the information with others.

Sound City

"Sound City" is the wonderfully entertaining documentary by Foo Fighter Dave Grohl about legendary recording studio (wait for it...) Sound City, located in a dumpy part of the San Fernando Valley. It's legendary status is due to all the great (or best-selling) albums recorded there over the years. When digital recording arrived, Studio City found fewer and fewer clients, and finally Dave goes back to Sound City to remove the massive analog mixing/recording deck and put it in his own home studio.

The interviews include Tom Petty, John Fogerty, Stevie Nicks, Mick Fleetwood, Lindsay Buckingham, Barry Manilow (!), Trent Reznor, Paul McCartney....and a cast of thousands. They all have sweet stories of how much they loved the dumpy little studio with the big sound. There are embarrassing shots of '80s hair, and confessions of crushes on the receptionist.

There's a companion CD, and it's not really the soundtrack, because most of the performances aren't in the movie (or are woefully short snippets). Paul McCartney records with the remaining members of Nirvana, and it's in his throat-ripping mode. For me, the best song on the CD features Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) and Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age) on the grindingly mesmerizing "Mantra". Lee (Fear) Ving's "Your Wife Is Calling" is fun, and I wouldn't be surprised if there's a knowing reference to it in a Simpson's episode someday.

As Dave says about the studio, "it might not be pretty, but it's for f-ing real". It's a fond look back at a process and a legacy that's still hanging on, thanks to fans like Dave Grohl. 

Cowabunga, it's surf music!

 Summer's here and the time is right for waxing down our surfboards. I guess...  Never ever surfed, but I did own a pair of baggies once! Still, I listen to way more surf music than my wife can stand. Best overall collection is the "Cowabunga" box set, from which I burned off a sampling, from "Mr. Moto" by the Belairs to more contemporary tracks like "Killer Dana" by the Chantays and the smokin' live track "Honeybomb" by the Mermen.

 

   "Back to the Beach" had a fun soundtrack, with Annette updating "Jamaica Ska" with Fishbone, and an astounding version of "Pipeline" with Stevie Ray Vaughan and the Father of the Surf Guitar, Dick Dale. What was amazing about their version for me was that the howling, shrieking guitar was Dale's, not Stevie Ray. (Their appearance in the movie is criminally brief.)  

 

"Get A Board" is a collection of nobody you've ever heard of, but that's common in many surf collections. They're full of bands that never made it out of their local scene but still managed to put out great music (before radio became conglomerized and homogenized). Same with soul and R&B -- there's a wonderful show Saturday afternoons on KSER (The Dusties Show) that regularly features a Top 30 Countdown from a radio station in say, Chicago, from the early '60s -- and two-thirds of it is music you've never heard of because radio hadn't yet been sanitized so that you'd hear the same thing from coast to coast.

The 2 "Surf & Drag" comps are cool, and feature way better sound than "Get A Board" or "Pebbles", which are mostly compiled from scratchy 45s. "S&D" features many of the usual suspects (Boyce & Hart, Gary Usher, Roger Christian, future Beach Boy Bruce Johnston) because they were all over each other's records, and Brian Wilson might pop in to lend a background vocal or two. It didn't seem like a rivalry, just everyone pitching in to bang out as much product possible to sell. And you gotta love the Rat Fink covers!

One of the more interesting tracks on "Pebbles" --beside Dave Edmund's version of "New York's A Lonely Town", retitled "London's a Lonely Town (When You're the Only Surfer Boy Around") -- is the Gambler's "LSD-25". The liner notes suggest that way before the hippies discovered acid, surfers were regularly dosing themselves with LSD. Don't know how true that is, but it sounds like some historian has their work cut out for them!

"Summer Beach Party" was disappointing for me, because I was hoping for more of the songs that Annette would sing as she walked along the 'beach' (the set) with the 'moon' (lighting) illuminating her as she wondered why love was so confusing. I actually liked those songs! Still, we do get Nancy Sinatra singing "Geronimo" (and that sound you're hearing is Frank Sinatra turning in his grave.)                                                                                                                     

                                                                                       

 

Neil Finn: Brothers Again, and Return of the House

Neil got some great merchandising advice somewhere, because from here on, most CDs feature "Expanded Editions", most often a bonus DVD with bonus tracks and live versions. Yeah, it sucks that the initial CD comes out, and then later, presto-change, bonus stuff! Oh well, maybe it's a label decision...


                                                                                                                                                        
 In 2005, we get Finn Brother, Mach 2: "Everyone Is Here". Sigh. There are some excellent songs, and the DVD extras are really special, but...I don't know, there must be some strict timetable involved that requires Neil to release an album, ready or not. Again, some VERY good songs, but the program/skip button got a workout. I do watch most of the DVD tracks a lot, and for sheer inspiration, "Anything Can Happen" (both CD and DVD versions) is primo.

Then, in 2007, Neil reforms Crowded House and releases "Time On Earth". It's dedicated to late drummer Paul Hester, whose recent suicide was devastating to family, band and fans alike. As someone who has a number of family members who suffer from depression, the specter of suicide is always the unwelcome guest at the party, the unspoken question, the dark cloud. Suicide can seem like the only way out when you're in a dark, painful space. Only if you're lucky enough to have the clouds clear can you see how wrong that thinking is. I don't think it's the selfish choice we sometimes paint it as, but afterwards, the pain remains, nothing is fair, nothing makes sense, and the wound never really heals.

So it's no surprise that "Time On Earth" album sounds sad and emotionally raw. I respect Neil's courage and determination to forge on, but despite contributions from Johnny Marr and the Dixie Chicks, it's too sad. But at least Neil sports his latest spiky/tousled haircut!

...2010, and Crowded House releases "Intriguer" -- sigh of relief, thank God, it's not great but it sounds like a band on the mend. This one also comes with a DVD featuring 'live in the Neil's den' footage, and we get to see Sharon Finn singing back-up.

This album is a refreshing collection, and Neil's absurd mustaches lend welcome humor. Neil's charity work continues, with another version of the 7 Worlds Collide project released (unheard by me). Nice to see that the random (?) bandmates of the earlier project find ways to continue the partnerships. More evidence that family is one of the Finn cornerstones. 

Neil Finn, Part II: Solo and Otherwise

1995's "Finn Brothers" is another attempt for Neil and Tim to record together (the first attempt morphed into Crowded House's "Woodface"). The 1995 version has some interesting experiments, has more of a South Pacific feel, but the songs don't really gel for me. I like "Mood Swinging Man", "Last Day of June", and rilly like "Angel's Heap", "Paradise" and "Suffer Never". I'd actually missed this album when it was released, but a later live DVD featured some of the songs, and I was impressed, even more so when, with "Suffer Never", for example, I discovered that the fantastic live version (with members of Radiohead) owed everything to the original album version. So, 5 or so good songs, but not a home run for me.

Neil's true 'solo' release, "Try Whistling This", came out in 1998. My copy was either a cut-out or a promo -- either way, my good luck! A handful of various producers, rotating band members -- a recipe for disaster in some hands, but Neil and his latest crop of songs are the focus, and there are many excellent songs: "Souvenir", "Try Whistling This", "She Will Have Her Way" (very Beatle-y), "Sinner", "Astro", "Faster Than Light", and the perfect closer "Addicted". Okay, maybe it's a bit fussy production-wise on some songs, but that just means there are subtle touches to discover after the first few listens.

One of the things I really enjoy about Neil's lyrics is that they are both personal and universal, obscure and specific. Songs like "Into Temptation" or "Hole in the River" are fairly straightforward, as is "Addicted" -- but then he'll throw in a metaphor that I don't quite understand, so I have to fill in the blanks and take a guess. I get to find my own meaning in the song; given a sketch of what it's generally about, I get to infer my own resonance.

I was lucky enough to find a copy of the DVD "Neil Finn: Sessions at West 54th", a short-lived live-in-the studio series, hosted by David Byrne (!) This features Neil performing tracks from "Try Whistling This", plus a few Crowded House songs. Best part: as the show opens and Neil bounces onstage, he walks past the acoustic guitarist -- who looks maybe 15. Turns out it Neil's son, and this was my first indication how important family is to Neil. Later albums and DVDs feature so many family members, it's like a family reunion, with music!






Neil's album "One Nil" came out in 2001 as an import, and, spiffed up, resequenced, with 2 newer songs, came out here in 2002 as "One All". The 2 new songs on "All" are better than the ones dropped from "Nil", but the mix on "All" is a little too cleaned up for me. "Lullaby Requiem", a song about the passing of Neil's mother, goes a little over the top with the childen's choir, but in this instance, it's understandable.

               

2001 also saw another project from "Neil Finn and Friends: Live at the St. James", a project where Neil invites friends like Lisa Germano, Eddie Vedder, Johnny Marr and more (including 2 members of Radiohead) to New Zealand to rehearse a batch of Neil songs, among others, and perform them live. It's not the tired 'supergroup' concept, but more of a 'let's toss it together and see what sticks' fun experiment. I had the CD, but got rid of it when I saw the DVD. The DVD has 26 performances, the CD maybe 14 or 16 -- and it's so sad! The CD reflects the loss of Neil and Tim's mother, among others, and it's skewed to the view of someone coming to terms with mortality. The DVD, on the other hand, feels more like a celebration, and it includes Tim singing "I See Red" with Eddie Vedder, backed by (Neil's son) Liam's band, as Neil watched from a couch just off the stage -- you can't beat that! Johnny Marr also performs a song of his that I have yet to find anywhere else, and Neil does a cover of The Smith's "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out". It's also fun to see Lisa Germano, whose own material tends to be dark and introspective, step up and be fully and joyfully involved in the proceedings. This is one of my favorite DVDs, ever.

Next time: Finn Brothers once again, and the return (?) of Crowded House.

Neil Finn's Amazing Body of Work: A Buyer's Guide, Part 1

I've always felt that Neil Finn isn't afforded the fame/success that his talent warrants. He's been writing, consistently, some of the best songs of the last 25 years, ever since his days with New Zealand's Split Enz.

It's been years since I heard any Split Enz albums, so I'm satisfied with this budget hits comp, including "I Got You", "Six Months in a Leaky Boat" (gotta love those massed mandolins!), and the revved-up "I See Red". Older brother Tim wrote most of the 'hits', but when Neil joined after the second album, he quickly came into his own. The band eventually broke up, and after some woodshedding, Neil's next band was the mighty mighty Crowded House.

Crowded House's first album featured some of Neil's best songs, and the fact that they were idiosyncraticly cute meant they enjoyed some quality MTV video time. This album has The Song That Neil Will Perform Forever ("Don't Dream It's Over") and it's front-loaded with the hits, but the formerly-known-as-Side 2 keeps up the quality, with "Hole in the River" sounding even better in live versions. Very 80's production (shiny shiny), but some darker themes amidst the sunny sides.

Next album "Temple of Low Men" didn't hit the heights of the previous album, but it still contains many of their "classics". "Into Temptation" is one of the best songs depicting the slippery slope that leads one to stray into an affair, "Sister Madly" features label-buddy Richard Thompson, and "Better Be Home Soon" sounds like "Don't Dream (Part 2)" -- in a good way.

Older brother Tim comes aboard for the 3rd album "Woodface" after the disappointing sales of "Temple". Opening with a clunker, the album's next 7 songs are gold. 4th album "Together Alone" from 1993 is another retrenching, with the addition of keyboardist par excellence Mark Hart as Tim leaves for his own projects and producer Youth experiments with murkier textures and the boys return to record in New Zealnd. This one for me is the most consistently great: "Pineapple Head", "Private Universe", "Walking On the Spot" (!), "Catherine Wheels" (!!) -- as good as the other albums are, this is probably the one I play the most. And of course, it was their last album! (There's more to that story, but that's for another post...)

"Recurring Dream: The Very Best Of" followed (try to get the one with the bonus live disc), and eventually "Afterglow" with B-sides and more (including "Recurring Dream" the Crowded House U2/Big County mash-up which isn't on the album "Recurring Dream" -- go figure!) but still the quality is right up there -- "Anyone Can Tell", "Help Is Coming" -- Neil's leftovers are still better than most other writers' A-list.

Sadly, drummer Paul Hester committed suicide, which brings this chapter of the Crowded House story to a dismal end. The DVD "Farewell to the World" is their last performance from November 1996 outside the Sydney Opera House", and that's how I'd like to remember Paul, the bittersweet moments of being onstage with his mates for the last time. Don't dream it's over, indeed.

Next: Neil, The Solo Years!

NRBQ, America's Best Band That You Never Heard Of

Driving home Sunday afternoon, listening to NRBQ, I turned to my wife, almost to the point of tears, and said "When NRBQ is good, nobody can touch them." 

One of the problems with getting older is that so many members of my favorite bands are dying, NRBQ included. I have so many favorite bands, but there's only a handful that I can say I love, and NRBQ is one of them. I've never met any other fans (other than my wife), but I'd guess I'm not alone -- these guys just inspire that kind of devotion.

How does that happen? I mean, I love the music of the Beatles, Radiohead...but I can't say I love the bands. But I know I love NRBQ (and Firesign Theatre). Maybe it's that there seems less of a distance between band and fan?

So, Mr Smarty Pants, if NRBQ is so great, why aren't they famous? Well, Bonnie Raitt's done her best to make them better known, and the writers and producers of "The Simpsons" are big fans, but NRBQ's recorded for smaller labels, their stuff is in and out of print, and when they do get a major-label opportunity, the stars don't align and it's back to indie-ville for them.

So try to find a copy of "Peek-A-Boo", an excellent introduction and best-of. Yes, there are hidden gems that this 2-CD set misses, but they managed to get most of the best, and it focuses on the classic line-up that lasted 20 years: Big Al Anderson's masterful arsenal of rockabilly and country guitar licks, Terry Adams on keyboards, (honky-tonk via Thelonious Monk), Joey Spampinato, the token Paul McCartney on bass, and boss of the backbeat, Tom Ardolino. Tired of the road, Al left to become a much-sought-after Nashville songwriter, Tom died, Terry had a throat cancer scare and retired the band for a long spell...

So, what makes them so special? Joey usually is singled out as the one writing the sweet, romantic Paulie songs, but Al and Terry provide their share too. They have a great sense of humor: immature, ironic, dry and extremely silly. (Okay, maybe too silly. That's a problem for non-fans.)

But c'mon,take this lyric from "Magnet", one of their early love songs. You know where this one is going, right? Magnet/Love/Attraction, yeah, I get it. Wrong. "I'm like a magnet/You're like a piece of wood".
Songs like "Rain at the Drive-In": "When it rains at the drive-in/My girl and I start to grin/We can't see out/They can't see in". Or "Little Floater", a love song to a car and one of the Top 5 Best Car Songs Ever. I realize that's a ridiculous claim, but I'm standing by it.

Al's guitar work provides the rockin' element, but he's so unconventionally sensitive and complimentary on the ballads.Terry worships Monk and Sun Ra but again, his sympathetic support is stunning but never draws the spotlight from the song.

So like I said earlier, their stuff is constantly going in and out of print, so I've been trying to grab as many CDs as I can, because, as great as "Peek-A-Boo" is, there are still more great songs tucked away on the other albums. "NRBQ at Yankee Stadium" (that's them in one of the bleachers) includes one of my very favorites "Yes, Yes, Yes", a sweet song that still manages to allow Terry to indulge his Monk fetish. He breaks the melody into teasing little pieces, puts it back together, then follows with a shattered piano solo, then puts the song back together again in a swoony finale. (The band must think it's a great song too, because it regularly shows up on their live albums.)

"Grooves in Orbit" has hidden gems like "My Girlfriend's Pretty" and "Smackaroo" (with what initially sounds like a chainsaw solo). "Tapdancin' Bats" (an odds 'n sodds collection that's probably only for the faithful) has my new favorite "I Don't Think of..." ("I don't think of/The things I could be missin'/ 'Cause all I think I'll ever want's been given").

That's a lesson it took me a long time to learn, and this is where I began, riding in my car with the woman I love with NRBQ as the perfect soundtrack. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I love those guys.

Yes and the Sound That Dare Not Speak Its Name

First off, a small correction: In my last post, I accidentally telescoped the timeline of my college years. I had the Yes albums, sure, but I didn't get most of the Camel, Caravan, Genesis, et al, until just after college, when I worked in a record store. And that just makes it worse -- at the same time I was buying singles by the Sex Pistols and XTC, I was picking up Genesis albums. I was tempting fate in the belly of the beast, where the judgment of my peers hung over my head.  (My moment of clarity: I remembering wondering one day, working at the store, "Why is it that all these nerdy guys are buying the same Eno albums that I like ?" Uh oh.)

So...back to Yes.

Yes became the whipping boys for everyone who hated progressive rock. My guess is that's because they a) took themselves very seriously, and b) insisted on making each successive album bigger and more grandiose, and finally c) their music had nothing whatsoever to do with the blues. Happened to Emerson, Lake and Palmer too, but the knives were out for ELP from the beginning.

Yes' "Fragile" album was probably the last release that saw them straddling the line between fan expectations and critical approval, though the fact that "Fragile" also featured each band member's solo turn gave some listeners pause. "Close to the Edge" featured only 3 songs, one being the side-long title track, and now the accolades were coming exclusively from the prog fans (though Rolling Stone gave it the feature spot in the reviews page.) Side Two's "Siberian Khatru" is one of my favorite songs ever, but Jon Anderson's lyrics?  I still have no idea what they mean. David Bowie borrowed William Burroughs' random cut-up method of assembling lyrics, yet he's considered a genius? Jon Anderson, you deserve another look.

Then the final straw....

"Tales from Topographic Oceans", 4 sides, 4 songs, based on footnotes in "Autobiography of a Yogi" about Shastric scriptures. Or something. (What can I say? It was 1973/1974.) It's not really terrible, but it could have been edited to a single LP without much trouble. I wonder if halfway through they didn't wonder "Why are we doing this again? Oh yeah, we're Yes. How can we top Jethro Tull's "Thick as A Brick" which is just one song over 2 sides?"

You could say they were asking for it, and from here on in, "Tales" became critical shorthand for the bloated dinosaur product soon to face the gobbing face of punk.

But other bands carried the progressive banner in a much lower key under-the-radar way. The sudden advent of punk only confused the prog set. "I don't get it; we're instrumentally adept, writing interesting and complicated adult material, only to be trumped by bands that are challenged to pull off something like "Louie, Louie". What's up?" Keyboardist Dave Stewart's notes in the National Health reissue are brutally humorous as he describes sinking lower and lower on the foodchain until he's reduced to making a living by transcribing 'songs' by Slaughter and the Dogs for the record company's publishing arm.

An earlier incarnation of National Health, Hatfield and the North, drew members from Caravan and other members of the Canterbury scene, which spawned Soft Machine and eventually the fine catalog of Robert Wyatt, among others (and I'm a big, big fan of them all.) Dryly humorous and somewhat pastorally English in atmosphere, these and other bands managed to pursue their progressive agenda backed by fan support and, if not with critical acclaim, at least under a critical truce. Prog would live to fight another day.

The '90s saw a blossoming of the progs, some under the mantle of "math rock". Isn't that the best? A new breed of musician, facing an uncertain future armed with pocket protectors. 

 

More on Caravan, Hatfield, National Health and Robert Wyatt later this fall. 

Skeletons Crowding the Closet, Progressive Rock Edition

I've mentioned before that I own some embarrassing records, some of which I can defend ("I own it for the ironic value!"), some of which I truly believe in ("One day the world will know the genius of Gilbert O'Sullivan and Ian Anderson!"), some of which I can claim as excellent examples of pop-craft (ABBA, and umm, the Turtles), some of which I just have to plead guilty (Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, Seals and Crofts) --- and then there are the guilty pleasures that I really have a hard time defending: progressive rock. Kaftans, brown rice, album covers that only revealed their full meaning under black lights -- yes, that sounds like psychedelia, but in one sense, progressive rock was the next step. For bands convinced they were above rock's primitivism, each new album was a further step in complexity, intricate time signatures, and denser lyrical content. Why couldn't rock progress toward something like classical music? Fans loved it, but everyone else hated it (and critics found some place beyond hate.)

Imagine: a few friends stop by my college-era apartment, begin to thumb through my LPs, I bask in the reflected coolness (Joni Mitchell, John Fahey, Miles Davis, Fairport Convention, John Martyn)...and then they find the Camel album. Uh oh. Then Genesis (oh crap). And finally, Yes. (Well at least they didn't find any Rush albums, but who knew Rush would finally attain the status of Totally Cool Because They Totally Aren't Cool ?).

So, may I address the jury? First of all, the Camel album was a live album, and they sufficiently rocked out, avoiding the tight-ass quality of some of the studio albums. Yes, I said "rocked out" referring to Camel. (My reference is my sister-in-law, a Bad Company fan, who was impressed with the guitar pyrotechnics of "Never Let Go").

 Genesis? Let's begin the defense by noting that Peter Gabriel is on several of the Genesis albums I own. Peter Gabriel, these days The Earnest Voice Of Environmental, Political And Social Causes, was over the top, but clever and unconventional enough to earn a passing grade from most critics. I remember playing (LOUDLY) bits from "Wind and Wuthering" (post-post Gabriel), giving my stereo a workout, thinking "THIS is high fidelity!" Later, so much later, I realized I was listening to some studio sheen plastered on top of synthesized sound -- nothing sounded like a real instrument! (I remember when every single audio equipment store played Steely Dan's "Aja" as their go-to demo LP, itself engineered and polished until nothing was left but a shiny Lemon Pledge-d version of real music -- but it sounded great, and I still listen to Steely Dan all the time, knowing that I'm being aurally manipulated, and I'm fine with that.)

Well, enough for this post. Next time: Yes! And the fate of lesser known bands that escaped the progressive mantle, for better or worse, but still tried to carry the banner.