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.