Shelter From The Storm

I wonder sometimes about the “times” we are each born into. Clearly some people are just born into the perfect place and/or time. Others are most definitely not. It’s like Jimmy Buffett says about his misplaced character in “A Pirate Looks At Forty:”

“Yes, I am a pirate two hundred years too late
The cannons don’t thunder, there’s nothing to plunder
I’m an over forty victim of fate
Arriving too late, arriving too late.”

I’m pretty happy with the time and place that I was born into. But, I sometimes wish I had been born about eight years earlier. I would love to have come of age during the late sixties in San Francisco. If only for the music scene, let alone the culture, the politics, the city and the people. San Francisco is one of the only two big cities I would ever consider living in (Paris being the other) and what a great place it must have been in the late sixties. I recently bought the new Rhino box set anthology Love Is The Song We Sing: San Francisco Nuggets 1965-1970. As with most of the Rhino box sets this is much more than an anthology of the “hits.” The producers dig very deep into the Bay Area scene from these years and pack 77 tracks on four discs. It’s an incredible treasure trove of material, much of which I had never heard before. The Airplane make three appearances including “It’s No Secret” from this, their debut album, Jefferson Airplane Takes Off.

Marty Balin was the driving force behind the original Jefferson Airplane. The band was his idea. He convinced some investors to put up money to convert a pizza parlor on Fillmore street into a club he named the Matrix for the sole purpose of showcasing his, as yet, unformed band. He recruited Paul Kantner and Jorma Kaukonen, as well as the original female vocalist Signe Toly Anderson. By the time Jefferson Airplane Takes Off was recorded the original bassist and drummer had been replaced by Jack Casady and Skip Spence, respectively. Recorded between December 1965 and March 1966 the album is a mixture of rock and pop, heavily influenced by the blues. Balin, a gifted songwriter, wrote or co-wrote 8 of the 11 songs on the album. ”Bringing Me Down” and “It’s No Secret” are both classic little pop nuggets. “Blues From An Airplane” and “Chauffeur Blues” showcase the more rootsy, bluesy side of the band. They do an early version of “Let’s Get Together” which would become a big hit and cultural classic for The Youngbloods a few years later. But, the real gem on this album is “Come Up The Years” a classic Balin ballad that provided a sneak preview into the direction the band would take on their second, and to my mind best, album, Surrealistic Pillow.

There are a lot of similarities between Marty Balin and Gene Clark from the Byrds. Both were the best songwriters in their respective groups. Both left their groups prematurely. Both tried to come back later, with mixed results. You could also make a credible case for the Byrds and the Jefferson Airplane being mirror images of each other reflected through the cultural influences of their respective cities (Los Angeles and San Francisco). This first album is when the Jefferson Airplane truly belonged to Marty Balin. By the time the group’s third album, After Bathing At Baxter’s was released in November 1967 Balin had been pushed aside by Kantner and only one of his songs appeared on that album. Other members of the group, including Kanter and Grace Slick, went on to write some great songs, but none of them were as good as Balin. As far as I’m concerned their subsequent releases suffered noticeably from the lack of Marty Balin songs. Just three short years later, in November 1970, he resigned from the band he created.

RCA released three singles from Jefferson Airplane Takes Off. None of them charted. The album itself only reached 128 on the Billboard Top 200 chart, a disappointment to everyone involved. Signe Toly Anderson left the group shortly after the album was released. The group’s true masterpiece, Surrealistic Pillow, was released just seven months later in February 1967. With the hit singles “White Rabbit” and “Somebody To Love” (brought to the band by Anderson’s replacement Grace Slick) the album was gold by July and the Airplane were well on their way to the iconic status they would later achieve.

Jefferson Airplane Takes Off was reissued by RCA/BMG in 2003 (along with the rest of the early catalog) as part of the Original Masters series. Sadly, it’s an album that is often overlooked in the Jefferson Airplane catalog. The only reason I can see for that is that many people ignore it because Grace Slick was not in the band for this album and she is so integrally a part of everyone’s concept of Jefferson Airplane. But it’s a real mistake to neglect this album. It’s much better than many of the albums the Airplane would release later in the decade. And Signe can more than hold her own against Grace Slick. She’s an excellent singer and I think had she stayed with the band she would have been every bit the key player that Grace Slick went on to become. The remastered version contains nine bonus tracks, including a wonderful version of Billy Wheeler’s “High Flying Bird” with Signe and Marty trading vocals throughout the song. There are also a couple of “uncensored” versions of a few songs and a longer, eight and a half minute, version of the album closing “And I Like It.” There are also two terrific Kanter penned outtakes, “Go To Her” and “It’s Alright.” Jeff Tamarkin, one of the most authoritative experts on the Airplane wrote liner notes. I’ve picked up all of the Jefferson Airplane Original Masters versions and every one of them is well worth having. You may not think of this album when you think of Jefferson Airplane, but give it a spin and see if it isn’t the exceptional disc I’ve come to regard it as.

Other Listens on June 30th:
Flashes Of Fire: Hoyt’s Very Best 1962-1990 by Hoyt Axton
The Very Best Of by Nicolette Larson
If You Knew Suzi… by Suzi Quatro
Hartford 1965 (bootleg) by Bob Dylan
Born In The USA Volume 1: The Great American Songbook by Various Artists

The subject of bootlegs is always a touchy one. Some people have a strong opinion one way or another. Many average music listeners don’t really have much of an idea of what they are all about. Those that search out and collect bootlegs have their own feelings about the “morality” of the practice. Bootlegs can generally be broken down into two categories: live and studio. Live bootlegs can be broken down into a few more categories: audience recordings, soundboard recordings and radio or TV broadcasts. Audience recordings are made when someone sneaks a tape recorder (or digital recorder) into a concert and records the show from the audience. Quality on these can vary widely from truly outstanding to unlistenable. Soundboard recordings are made on the soundboard at the concert by the performer’s crew and are usually very, very good quality. Generally someone “leaks” these types of recordings to the fan base (or in some cases it’s possible they have been stolen). Radio or TV broadcasts are taped via the radio or TV when a show is broadcast live (or at a later date) and are usually excellent quality. Studio recordings generally consist of alternate versions or outtakes that someone has, once again, leaked to the fan base (or, again, they may have been stolen). Many artists these days are quite willing to allow fans to exchange live recordings as long as money is not involved. Some even encourage the practice. The Grateful Dead are probably the most well known band to do so, usually setting up a special place in front of the stage where tapers could record the show from. Studio recordings are a completely different matter. It’s harder to justify the trading and exchange of studio recordings since the artist has not usually given any permission to do so. I collect them all. I don’t try to make any “justification” for my “habit.” I’m a junkie, pure and simple. The one great thing that has happened with the advent of the internet, bit-torrent and digital trading is that most of the profit has gone out of the bootleg industry. True fans will never sell bootleg material. It is traded openly and freely. There is also a case to be made for “historical” purposes, though that’s a pretty lengthy discussion which I think I’ll save for later. But, in short, it’s the fans who have often recorded and archived a lot of this material that may well be considered priceless hundreds of years from now and looked on in a much different light. 

In the early 60s, long before he was well known, around the time he recorded his first album, Bob Dylan obtained a publishing contract with M. Witmark & Sons. Between 1962 and 1964 he recorded at least 40 (that we know of) “publishing demos” for the company. Dylan would come into the offices and sit before a tape recorder, just himself, his guitar (sometimes a piano) and occasionally a harmonica. These performances were simply meant to serve as an audible source which the publisher could use to transcribe the songs’ music and lyrics for legal purposes. Sometime in the 60s a very rare, one-sided 9 track LP was also pressed up to distribute to other artists who might have been interested in recording some of the songs. A copy of this album sold on eBay a few years ago for $737 (see image on the left). Many of these songs were never officially recorded by Dylan. Some were indeed recorded by other artists. There are however, demos of some of his best known early songs, including “Blowin’ In The Wind,” “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” and “Girl From The North Country.” Some of the unrecorded songs are excellent and some are merely just good. It’s easy to see why some of them were never recorded by Dylan or anyone else. The fact that Dylan was not “performing” these songs for an audience, or recording them for an album, makes them very unique. Dylan, for the most part, is very relaxed, just running through the songs. This has both good and bad consequences. On the one hand we get very off the cuff, spontaneous performances. There are also a few instances of Dylan playing songs on piano that he usually performed on guitar: a great version of “Mr. Tambourine Man” for instance. On the other hand Dylan’s not really trying very hard all the time and a few of the versions are fairly uninspired. In fact, at one point, while singing “Let Me Die In My Footsteps” he stops and says, “It’s a drag, I sang it so many times.” Other times he sings a portion of the song so the company can get the basis of the verse and chorus and then says, “I’ll write down the other verses for you later.” Still, for any Dylan fan these tracks are priceless. Lots of songs you will never hear anywhere else. Historically they are quite significant and very important.

These demos have been collected in at least three well known bootlegs: The Witmark Years, Through A Bullet Of Light and The Witmark Demos. All three contain basically the same material. This version, The Witmark Years, is generally considered to be the best quality and it also arranges the recordings in chronological order.

Quality is very good to excellent throughout this collection, though it does vary a bit from session to session and of course, it is not as good as officially released material. Three of the songs on this double CD have been released officially on Dylan’s The Bootleg Series: Volumes 1-3: “Walkin’ Down The Line,” “When The Ship Comes In” and “The Times They Are A-Changin’.” Here’s hoping Dylan and Sony see fit to release more of them, perhaps an entire double CD of all the tracks. That’s the best way to combat bootlegging: release the material officially. 

Other Listens on June 29th:
Nolita by Keren Ann
Nuggets II: Original Artyfacts From The British Empire And Beyond 1964-1969 by Various Artists
Abandoned Luncheonette by Daryl Hall & John Oates
After Bathing At Baxters by Jefferson Airplane 
Hartford 1965 (bootleg) by Bob Dylan 

I first moved to Austin in 1976. I moved away for two years, but then came back in 1982. I went to a lot of concerts and shows in those days. I hardly ever go to any these days. There is a great venue in Austin, The Paramount Theatre, and it may be my favorite place in the entire world to see a concert. I saw tons of acts there in the late 70s and throughout the 80s and even into the 90s. But I also went to a lot of clubs to see smaller artists and bands. One of my all-time favorites was Emma Jo’s on North Lamar. A tiny little club, it catered mostly to singer-songwriters and acoustic artists: people like Townes Van Zandt, Lucinda Williams, Nanci Griffith, Butch Hancock, etc. But there was at least one artist who would always play with a band and just rock the joint from top to bottom: Tom Pacheco. Tom was from the New York area, he’d lived in Woodstock for a long time. I have no idea how he ended up in Austin, but he was living there for about a year or two and he would play regularly at places like Emma Jo’s and Hut’s. I tried to catch every single performance and I managed to see him quite a few times. I heard him to some fantastic songs that still don’t seem to have appeared on any of his albums since then. And his band was just stellar. Tom is a songwriter first and foremost, but with the right band he can put on one hell of a show.

I was familiar with Tom through his two RCA albums: Swallowed Up In The Great American Heartland and The Outsider, both released in 1976. He’s a very unique, distinctive songwriter. Story telling is his forte. His story songs can veer off into wild territory, UFOs and alien visitations, beer killing bacteria, energy producing crystals, the life of a tree, JFK’s assasin, etc. but he always manages to pull it off (well, most of the time).  He also has a very strong political vein and comparisons to Woody Guthrie would not be out of line. A true romantic, he’s written some beautiful love songs and has a great way of exploring relationships from all points of view. He moved to Austin in 1981 or 1982, I don’t know for sure and put together a terrific band called The Hellhounds.  I think he may have had a “deal” with a production company, Third Coast Productions, and I also think he may have recorded some tracks, but nothing from this time was ever released. He moved back to New York in 1983, then on to Nashville and Dublin. His time in Austin was well spent, and based on the songs I heard him do during that time, I think it may have been one of his most creative and prolific songwriting periods. A friend of mine recorded several of the shows at Emma Jo’s and I still have copies of those tapes. The quality is pretty good for an audience recording, but it’s certainly not “commercial” quality. Still, I treasure those tapes, not only because they contain some terrific songs and performances but also because they bring back a lot of great memories.

Eagle In The Rain, released in 1989, was Tom’s third album. There was a gap of 13 years between The Outsider and Eagle In The Rain. Tom has since made up for that gap releasing quite a few albums in the 90s and 2000’s. This may be my favorite of all his albums. Overall, I think it’s the most balanced and cohesive. Like I say, Tom is a terrific writer, but he does have a tendency to get a bit “overemotional,” even “schmaltzy” from time to time. He writes a lot of songs it seems and not all of them are really up to par with his best. He’s the kind of songwriter that could really benefit from a great editor. On this collection of 11 songs he manages to keep those issues at bay. The album opens with one of his best songs ever, “Robert And Ramona,” the story of two doomed outcast lovers. “Midnight At The Hot Club,” “Donna Marie,” “She Always Thought He’d Come Back,” “Jesus In A Leather Jacket” and “The Last Blue Whale In The Ocean” are perfect examples of his fine story telling abilities. “Made In America” picks up where “Swallowed Up In The Great American Heartland” left off 13 years earlier. “All Because Of You” and “All I Can Look At Is You” find Tom working familiar romantic territory with his heart (as always) squarely on his sleeve. “You Will Not Be Forgotten” and “Just A Little Bullet” (which closes the album) touch on his political leanings. It’s a damn fine album from beginning to end. Produced by well known Irish performer Arty McGlynn, the album was recorded in Ireland and features Irish musicians, who bring just the right sound to these songs.

Like I say, Tom’s made quite a few more albums since this one. Unfortunately, most of them are pretty hard to find. He seems to record for small, out of the way labels and a lot of the albums don’t stay in print very long. I’ve tried to keep up with them all, but most of them have only been released in Europe and when you can find them they are quite pricey. Still, I think I have the majority of them. A few recent ones have slipped by me, but hopefully I’ll be able to find those one of these days at a reasonable price. Tom Pacheco is a true songwriting treasure and I sure hope he continues to keep new songs and albums coming for us to listen to.

Other Listens on June 28th:
Enough Rope by Chris Knight
Forgive by Rebecca Lynn Howard
11/12/13 Live In Melbourne by Kieran Kane & Kevin Welch
Float Away With The Friday Night Gods by Marah
Own & Own by Butch Hancock
Family Tradition by Hank Williams, Jr. 

The first job I got working in the “music” business was at Wherehouse Records in Gardenia, California. I was living in Hawthorne just a few miles away. I think at that time Wherehouse was the biggest record store chain in California. I don’t know maybe Tower was bigger, but I don’t think so. Wherehouse certainly had more stores. The job I got was working at the warehouse for Wherehouse. They had a big central warehouse in Gardenia. All the LPs, cassettes and 8-Tracks were shipped in to the the warehouse and then sent out to the individual stores. Someone I ended up working in the “returns” room. It was a fairly large corner of the warehouse, closed off into its own “room” constructed from 2×4s and chicken wire. All the returns (defects, overstock and otherwise) would be shipped from the individual stores to the warehouse and end up in giant stacks of boxes in the returns room. My job was to sort through all the albums, group them together by label on shelves and then write up “return authorization” forms to ship them back to the labels. Many people don’t know that in the record business everything is 100% returnable to the label, for any reason whatsoever. Stores can buy anything they want, as much as they want, and if it doesn’t sell they just send it back to the label for credit. I don’t think most retail businesses work that way. I think in most retail situations if you buy something and can’t sell it you just keep marketing it down until it does sell. But not the record business. You just send it back. I actually really liked this job. It gave me an incredible education in music and record albums. I’d see so many things come through that room. Things I’d never seen before. Some pretty rare things too. Well, rare nowadays at least. I really learned a lot about labels, artists, albums, etc. working there.

I had a couple of friends who I met at Wherehouse who lived a few blocks over from me. I used to go over to their house fairly frequently and listen to and talk about music. Rolf and Jim. Jim was the old-timer. He didn’t work at the warehouse (where Rolf worked with me) but at one of the retail stores. He’d been working at Wherehouse for awhile. He was a bit older than me and I looked up to him. I was always interested in what he was listening to. I remember one night he came in from a show at the Troubador where he’d seen this band, I’d never heard of before, Little Feat. Man, he just raved about the show and the band. Now this was 1974, so Little Feat had been around a little while, but they hadn’t really broken through yet. I think their fourth album, Feats Don’t Fail Me Now, had just been released. I remember he also liked The Heart Of Saturday Night by Tom Waits. But what I remember most was that he considered it a “morning” album. He used to say he would only play it in the morning. Being young and impressionable I found that kind of cool. 

I first became aware of Tom Waits when I bought the Eagles’ debut album. One of my favorite songs on the album was their cover of Tom’s song “Ol’ 55.” There’s a great story that Don Henley tells about their version. He says Tom didn’t really like it, he didn’t like the way they did the song. But, says Henley, he liked it a lot more when the royalty checks started arriving. Tom’s original version of “Ol ‘55″ was on his debut album, Closing Time. An album I dearly love. For those most familiar with Tom’s later material Closing Time might be a real shock. It’s a very folkie, singer-songwriter affair filtered through a Jack Kerouac novel. What a bunch of great songs. His second album, The Heart Of Saturday Night, was released in 1974. It contained more of the great songwriting that graced his first album, but the production was definitely something new. Producer Bones Howe brought a much tougher, street wise sound to the songs. The jazz/beat influence is much stronger as well. It’s an early preview of the direction Waits would take his music in later years. “Please Call Me Baby,” “Drunk On The Moon” and “New Coat Of Paint” are among my songs on the album, but the standout track here is the title track, “(Looking For) The Heart Of Saturday Night.” It’s “companion” piece, “The Ghosts Of Saturday Night” is a real Kerouac/Ginsberg influenced track with Waits reciting poetry to a jazz background. I had just discovered John Stewart around this same time and I was quite surprised to hear him play “Shiver Me Timbers” during a concert at UCLA. I remember he praised Waits as a great new, young songwriter.

Funny thing about Tom Waits. I wasn’t able to stay with him as he and his music grew and changed. The first two albums are two of my all-time favorite albums. His next album was the live Nighthawks At The Diner, and I’m quite fond of that one as well. But then came Small Change, Foreign Affair, Blue Valentine and Heartattack And Vine. I bought all of these albums, but none of them really captured my ear the way the first two had. And then in the early 80s he really started to change. I read great reviews of albums like Swordfishtrombones, Rain Dogs and Franks Wild Years. I bought them, but they never connected with me. Now I know full well that these years are considered by most Waits’ fans to be his prime years. Seems that I fell off the wagon exactly when the majority of fans were getting on. I haven’t bought or listened to a new Tom Waits album in a very long time. But I come back to those first two on a very regular basis and they still do it for me every time.

There’s a phenomenon in the music business often referred to as the “sophomore album” syndrome. It’s an attempt to illustrate why the second albums from so many artists are so disappointing when compared to their first. There are several theories that attempt to explain why this seems to happen on such a regular basis. Probably the most common is the “song” factor. Artists have years to write, rewrite and hone the songs that appear on their first album. Then suddenly they need to have a second album of tunes ready within a much shorter period of time. Back in the 70s it wasn’t unusual to put out a new album every six months to a year, especially in the country music market. Often times an artist just can’t come up with a new batch of songs so quickly. Overconfidence is another theory. Artists who experience quick success from a first album often fall victim to this fate. There’s one thing I can say for sure about  James Talley’s second album: it most definitely did not succumb to the “sophomore album” syndrome.

Talley made four terrific albums for Capitol Records in the mid to late 70s. Straight ahead, authentic, genuine country albums. Four of the best country albums made during that (or any) decade. Got No Bread, No Milk, No Money, But We Sure Got A Lot Of Love was the first, released in 1975. I bought the album at a bookstore on the campus of SUNY Oswego in upstate New York when I had really had no money to spend on anything. I was living day to day (I didn’t even have a place to live I was just crashing with friends), but I had a few dollars that day and the record cost a few dollars, so I bought it. I must have read something about it in one of the music magazines I was constantly pouring over in those days. I don’t think the album generated much commercial success when it was released, though it did receive great reviews. It’s now considered a genuine classic. But, there were no hit singles on the album and country music in those days, even more than today, was ruled by radio. I sure spent a lot of time listening to it though. Whether the rest of the country would catch on or not to how great this guy was I just didn’t know (turns out they never really did). Many of my very favorite artists, the ones I was sure were bound to be stars, never broke through. A mix of country blues, western swing and dust bowl “okie” country it was a fine debut album from a new “Nashville” artist. But it was his follow up album, Tryin’ Like The Devil, that really turned me into a lifelong James Talley fan.

Released less than a year later, Tryin’ Like The Devil picked up where the debut album left off. Co-produced by Talley and Steve Mendell, the album featured ten strong Talley originals. Right from the beginning Talley is clearly more confident, more self-assured, both in his songwriting and his singing. Whereas he sometimes seemed a little tentative on the first album, like he was still finding his footing, Tryin’ Like The Devil was a major step forward. The album announces itself with the rollicking country blues of “Forty Hours.” Throughout the album themes of loss, sorrow, difficult times and, most importantly, everyday people persevering in the face of hardship, wind their way through Talley’s lyrics. Sometimes the song reflects that sadness in a defiant uptempo manner as with “Forty Hours,” the title track, “Tryin’ Like The Devil,” “You Can’t Ever Tell” and the minor hit “Are They Gonna Make Us Outlaws Again?” which pays tribute to his Oklahoma roots evoking both Woody Guthrie and Pretty Boy Floyd. But the real heart and soul of this album is in the magnificent clutch of stunningly beautiful, achingly sad ballads. “Sometimes I Think About Suzanne” might be the best song Talley has ever written. “She Tries Not To Cry,” “Deep Country Blues” and “She’s The One” are masterful examples of Talley’s ability to tell a story of heartache without ever resorting to traditional cliches and methods. Another real standout is “Give My Love To Marie” written from the perspective of a black lung miner from East Tennessee.

Capitol released Blackjack Choir in 1977 and Ain’t It Something in 1978. Both are excellent albums, but Tryin’ Like The Devil is by far my favorite. All four albums were released on CD by the German label Bear Family Records in the late 80’s. Talley tried for years to get Capitol to release the albums on CD in the US, but to no avail. He was finally able to license the albums from Capitol and re-released Got No Bread, No Milk, No Money, But We Sure Got A Lot Of Love on his own label in 2006. I was told he had plans to re-release the others but so far I haven’t seen any sign of them. He’s made eight or nine new albums in the thirty years since the Capitol deal ended, some of which are easy to find and some of which are not. The 2000 release Nashville City Blues is especially worth seeking out. 

These days Talley sells real estate in Nashville. He appears to still be writing songs, making music and recording albums. The country music industry could use a lot more artists like James Talley these days. Original, unique, honest, straightforward. Over the years it seems that country music has always gone through cycles where it’s careened dangerously close to “pop.” But sooner or later it always gets pulled back to it’s roots. Be it Buck Owens, Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash in the 60s, Waylon, Willie and the other “outlaws” in the 70s or Dwight, Randy Travis, John Anderson and the other “new traditionalists” in the 80s, just when it seems the car is about to plunge hopelessly over the edge it rights itself, straightens out and gets back on track. Sadly, I’m afraid those days may be gone for good. It could be that this time there is no going back. I blame Garth Brooks for that, but that’s another story altogether.

Other Listens on June 26th:
Wet Show (bootleg) by Neil Young
Love Has Got Me by Wendy Waldman
Stories by David Blue
Buffalo Nickel by Dan Baird 

Generally speaking I don’t like to write about albums made by people who I consider to be friends. There are many reasons for this, some of which should be obvious. Artists, by their very nature, are usually quite sensitive about their creations. It’s only natural. I don’t consider myself an “artist.” But, I am a graphic designer, I design and build websites, multimedia programs and other things that might be considered “art” in some ways. I know what it’s like to spend a lot of time and effort to create something. I know how I work over and over to get things to be what I consider just right. I know how I keep coming back to something trying to make it better. I know how good it feels when I get it to the point where I’m really proud of it. And I know how it feels when someone else then looks at it and starts tearing it apart, criticizing it, pointing out what they see as imperfections and problems. So, I can imagine how a musical artist might feel when they pour so much into writing, performing, mixing, mastering and perfecting an album, only to have listeners pick it apart.

On the other hand, that’s the nature of making art. Art is a very personal, selective experience and each of us interpret, absorb and judge it according to a million different influences. If you can’t handle criticism you should not be making art. My friend Grant (a writer and critic by profession) considers it part of his job to help weed out the ones who can’t handle criticism. There are a lot of people out there making just plain bad music and if they can’t handle having that pointed out to them they should be doing something else. As I’m sure you can tell if you’ve read any other of my postings, I’ve got no problem criticizing music. I just don’t like to criticize the music of my friends. At least not in public. One of the things I’ve learned spending time with and around musical artists is that they almost always consider their newest album to be the best one they’ve ever made. Which when you stop to think about it is just plain ridiculous. Every artist is going to have ups and downs, ebbs and flows. But I’ve never heard a single one say, “Yeah, my new album’s pretty good, but it’s not as good as the one I made six years ago.” Of course, whether they’ll admit it or not, as time passes I’m sure most artists are able to put their catalog in perspective and recognize the albums that really are better than others. But not when it’s new. And it’s a sad reality (that very, very few are ever able to admit), that most artists make most of their best albums during the first ten years or so of their career. Certainly there are exceptions, but they are rare. I dare anyone to try and argue that the vast majority of Neil Young’s best albums were not made in the 70s. That Bruce Springsteen has made any albums near as good as his first seven. The Who, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, James Taylor, Joni Mitchell. Etc., etc., the list is almost endless. Artists often ask you to tell them what you “really think” of an album. But I don’t think many (if any) of them really mean that. Well, they mean it if you like the album. They don’t mean it if you don’t.

However, all that said, I’m willing to make a few exceptions with my rule of not writing about friends from time to time in this blog. This album is certainly an exception I am more than willing to make. However, this album presents yet another difficulty. In addition to considering Eric Taylor a dear friend I also worked with him. When I was doing A&R for Koch Records I signed him to the label and we released this album. Later I signed him to another label I was working at, Eminent Records, and we released his next album, Scuffletown. So, I am obviously hopelessly biased when it comes to Eric Taylor and this album. Whatever. It doesn’t change what I think of this music, how it affects me and the part it’s played in my life.

Eric’s music is usually fairly sparse. Often times it’s just Eric on guitar with some piano or organ, a bass and maybe some light percussion. A violin or horn might pop up from time to time, but those instances are rare. There’s sometimes someone like Denise France or Susan Lindfors on backing vocals. Eric is a genius at weaving a mood and a spell out of a minimum amount of instrumentation. He’s one of those songwriters where the songs themselves are so damn good, so spellbinding, he doesn’t need a big full blown production. Eric is also one of those rare songwriters that is able to write both exceptional lyrics and melodies. Eric produced Resurrect himself and he does a brilliant, and I do mean brilliant job. The musical setting he places each song in is simply flawless. Every single song on this album is a small treasure. Personally, my favorite, by far, is “Comanche.” It’s a slow, seductively simple (or so it appears at first) song about the affect one person can make in another’s life. But every line is pure poetry (even the one where he says “I think that poetry and jazz are lies”). And I love how the chorus ends musically unresolved. Just like life and love. “Two Fires” and “Texas, Texas” are also two of the finest songs Eric has ever written. I could say something about each and every other song on the album, but let me just reiterate what I said before: they’re all small treasures.

Eric released his first album, Shameless Love, in 1981 on Featherbed Records. I could be wrong, but I believe it was the only album issued on that label. I somehow acquired the album at the time, but it was not one I ever listened to. I know it might seem strange, but I’ve got way more albums than I can ever listen to. Many things sit on the shelves and then one day finally get their due listen. I imagine that when I die there will be a lot of albums that never got their chance. No way around that, there’s just way too much music out there. I didn’t hear of or about Eric again until 1995. He made a self-titled album for an Austin based label, Watermelon Records. Now, I’ll be honest here. I was running a small Austin based label myself at the time, Dejadisc, and while the owners of Watermelon were friends of mine, they were also competitors. So, listening to their releases wasn’t always my biggest priority. I was, however, interested in the Eric Taylor album. It contained some truly fantastic songs, especially “Hemingway’s Shotgun” one of my all time favorite songs by anyone. The production by Mark Hallman, a well known Austin producer was very good. But, I found it to be just a little too “smooth.” Eric, his songs, and his music have a very ragged edge and I felt that was being toned down by the production, maybe in hopes of appealing to radio and other mass audiences. That’s just one more thing I love about Resurrect, the production. It suits Eric’s songs and music much better. Exquisitely simple. Production can often be about what you don’t use as much as it is about what you do use. It takes a real talent to know what to “leave in and what to leave out.”

Eric made Scuffletown for Eminent Records in 2001. It was a fine follow up to Resurrect and contains some more terrific songs. He’s since released two more fine, fine albums on his own label, The Great Divide (2005) and Hollywood Pocketknife (2007).

Eric Taylor is not famous. He’s never been widely recognized for the talent he is. Many artists are not. My record collection is full of them. The fact that he influenced so many young Texas songwriters in the 70s and 80s is almost forgotten (except of course by those songwriters). The fact that some of them (Nanci Griffith and Lyle Lovett especially) have recorded his songs and tried to spread the word about him to a larger audience is admirable. But, in the end, none of that really means much to me (though I’m sure it does to him). To me he’s just a guy I know (who can be downright sweet or a complete jerk) who writes and sings some of the best songs I’ve ever heard. I don’t see or talk to Eric much these days. That’s more my fault than it is his. I’m very bad at keeping in touch with people. I tend to live in my own little world doing my own little things and I don’t make the effort to reach out to people who are important to me as much as I should. At my age I’ve come to accept that as just part of who I am. But it’s such a great thing to know I can always throw on an Eric Taylor CD and it’s like he’s right here in the room with me.

Other Listens on June 25th:
Roger The Engineer by The Yardbirds
Firefall by Firefall
The Otis Redding Dictionary Of Soul: Complete And Unbelievable by Otis Redding
A Pocketful Of Rain by Michael Fracasso
Live Blow Your Face Out by The J. Geils Band 

When I was younger I used to move around quite a bit. I left home for college when I was 16. Just before my 18th birthday I dropped out and took off for Europe. Between the time I left home and when I bought my first house in San Marcos, Texas about fifteen years later I lived in places like Los Angeles, CA, Key West, FL, Syracuse, NY, Austin, TX, Houston, TX, Lancaster, CA, Cupertino, CA, Eugene, OR and lots of places inbetween. Some for only a few weeks or months at a time. I hitchiked back and forth across the US at least five or six times during those years, usually from coast to coast. I once hitchhiked non-stop from New Haven, CT to Los Angeles in four and a half days with only $2.00 in my pocket (I still had 20¢ left when I got back home). I once figured out I had lived in over sixty different houses and/or apartments over a ten year period.

“Have you ever been lonely in the middle of the night
Even though the one you love got her arms around you so tight
And a far-off freight train makes a hollow sound
And the mockingbird singing a sweet sad song as your feet hit the ground

“I gotta move, that’s all I know
I gotta move, gotta hear the west wind blow
I gotta move, but I’m running out of somewhere to go
So I just move…”

When I heard those opening lines from “Gotta Move” on Tom Jans‘ The Eyes Of An Only Child album I was completely hooked. It’s still one of the saddest, sweetest songs I’ve ever heard. I’ve never come across a song that so eloquently captures the “sweet sorrow” contradiction of moving and traveling. I had heard Tom Jans before. I first became aware of him when I saw him open for Cat Stevens at the Greek Theatre (Los Angeles, CA) in November 1971 with his singing partner Mimi Farina (Joan Baez’s younger sister). Jans and Farina put out a wonderful album in 1971 titled Take Heart. Tom wrote the classic song “Loving Arms” that’s been covered by everyone from Elvis Presley to Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge to Petula Clark to Dobie Gray to Olivia Newton-John to the Dixie Chicks. He released a stellar self-titled solo album on A&M in 1974. The Eyes Of An Only Child appeared a year later. This collection of ten songs was the high point of his career and it remains a real treasure in my LP collection. Every song is a gem, but the real standouts are “Gotta Move” (co-written with Lowell George), “Once Before I Die,” “The Lonesome Way Back When” and the title track. “Out Of Hand” was a smash country hit for Gary Stewart in 1975. Lowell George is listed as the “Executive Producer” and musicians include Bill Payne and Sam Clayton (also from Little Feat), Jesse Ed Davis, Fred Tackett, David Lindley, Jeff Porcaro, Jim Keltner and Mike Utley. They just don’t get any better than that and the playing throughout this album is just faultless. Valerie Carter and Herb Pedersen are along for background vocals.

Jans made one more album for Columbia, Dark Blonde (released in 1976). While it contained some terrific songs, it didn’t quite measure up to its predecessor, though it was certainly close. After that he dropped out of site. A new album, Champion, was released in a very limited edition on a Japanese label in 1982. I’ve never been able to find a copy (and believe me I’ve tried). He was in a very serious motorcycle accident in 1983 and then died in 1984, it’s said from a drug overdose (but don’t they always say that when they don’t know how a musician dies?). I was really saddened when I heard of his death. He was such a great, unique songwriter. He had the ability to write such personal, emotional, passionate songs without ever being sentimental or sappy. Not too many songwriters can do that. Joni Mitchell is another that comes to mind.

“Wondered in my heart of hearts if I’d been here before
Trembled when the winter wind would blow against my door
Been so far at sea I could not find the shore
Got down on my knees and prayed I would see more
With these eyes of an only child”

Tom Waits wrote a song, “Whistle Down The Wind,” for Tom Jans and it’s included on his 1992 album Bone Machine. Unfortunately, none of Tom’s albums have ever been released on CD in the US. I, of course, have ripped all four of them from vinyl to CDR, but it sure would be nice to get these on real CDs. The Eyes Of An Only Child and Dark Blonde were released in Japan in 2007, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to shell out the $35+ for each one. Take Heart and Tom Jans have never been released on CD anywhere in the world that I know of. It’s a crying shame. All of these albums are well worth searching out on vinyl if you can find them. Tom Jans remains one of the great “lost” songwriters of a generation. Today very few seem to know of him, but those that are familiar with his work hold his songs and music very dear.

Other Listens on June 24th:
Midnight On The Water by David Bromberg
New Skin For The Old Ceremony by Leonard Cohen
Book Of Dreams by The Steve Miller Band
Beautiful Loser by Bob Seger
Garcia by Jerry Garcia
Heart Food by Judee Sill 
Matthew & Son by Cat Stevens 

I try to go to France at least once a year. If there are such things as “past lives” I think I must have lived in France during one of them. I just can’t explain why I feel so at home there, so connected, but I do. It’s like being home. I first went to France when I was 18. I had dropped out of my second year of college, took what was left of my student load and bought a plane ticket to London. I think I had about $150 when I landed. I spent a couple of weeks hitchhiking around England and then headed over to the “continent.” Eventually I landed in Paris staying in a cheap youth hostel. I spent a few months there before coming back home. I used to dream all the time about being in Paris and France. It was actually 20 years before I made it back, on my way to a music convention in Berlin. Since then I’ve gone over almost every year. For awhile, when I worked for record labels, it was to attend the MIDEM convention ever year in Cannes. Then five years ago my friend Les and I went over for a two week cycling trip and we’ve since gone back three more times. I’d move to France in a second if only my wife would agree, but it seems I’ve married the only woman in America who isn’t interested in living in Paris. 

When I was in Paris last year I picked up a book titled Bob Dylan Album File & Complete Discography. I’m always interested in Dylan books and this was one I hadn’t seen before. Turned out it was only published in England, so I figured I might as well grab it. It’s the size and shape of a CD, though much thicker. The author goes through each Bob Dylan CD and writes about the album and the songs. He give notes about the recording process, stories, his take on the songs, etc. It’s nothing new, this stuff has been gone over dozens of times, but it is a interesting little book. So, I’ve been making my way through the book, listening to each album (in chronological order) as I read what he has to say. Today it was time for New Morning.

New Morning is one of those Bob Dylan albums that never quite seems to get the respect or attention it deserves. It’s not that it’s generally regarded as a “bad” album (like say Under The Red Sky, Knocked Out Loaded or Down In The Groove), it just kind of falls through the cracks. In 1993 Sony began reissuing the entire Dylan catalog, remastering the albums and releasing them as hybrid CD/SACD digipaks (usually with a few unreleased photos). The first batch contained fifteen albums, apparently what SONY and/or Dylan considered to be the best of his catalog. New Morning was not one of them. We’re still waiting for the second batch. It’s probably never coming as SACD is dead in the water. There is still hope the remaining albums will be remastered and reissued, though some fans and collectors think it might not happen. With Dylan, you just never know.

New Morning was released in October 1970, just four months after the disastrous reception that Self Portrait received. Some say Dylan was so stung by the scathing reviews for Self Portrait that he immediately felt he had to get something else out into the marketplace to redeem himself. I have no idea whether this is true or not, but it’s actually quite a fine CD, and it certainly did help to reestablish his reputation after Self Portrait. The opening track, “If Not For You” was co-written with George Harrison (who actually released a version of the song on his own album, All Things Must Pass, before New Morning even came out). It sets the mood for the album: cheerful, satisfied, fulfilled, warm and happy. This is as close to a “family” album as Bob Dylan ever came, said to be written and recorded when he was the most content with being a husband and a father. As we all know, that period of contentment didn’t seem to last too long. But New Morning is full of songs about comfort, peace, tranquility and general domestic bliss. Standout tracks include “The Man In Me,” “New Morning,” “If Not For You” and “Three Angels.” The title track is especially cheeful and energetic with Bob proclaiming how happy he is “just to be alive on this new morning with you.” Dylan did, however, take a few left turns with tracks like “Winterlude” and, especially, “If Dogs Run Free” (which is probably one of the most detested songs in his catalog. “Father Of Night” seems almost a decade early preview of his Christian conversion. “Three Angels” is more a spoken poem set to music than a song. With it’s swirling organ and background vocals it’s just one or two steps away from something Hank Williams could have done.

After New Morning Dylan was enticed by David Geffen to leave Columbia Records (his long time record label) and sign with Asylum Records where he released Planet Waves and the live Before The Flood (from his 1974 tour with the Band). The story is that Columbia was not about to let him go without a fight and to show him what was coming if he continued this route they released the famous Dylan album, a collection of ten outtakes from the New Morning and Self Portrait sessions. It’s an album whose only function certainly seems to embarrass Dylan. It’s generally regarded by many to be unlistenable (though it’s not that bad). Sure, enough Dylan was back on Columbia for his next release, Blood On The Tracks. And, before too long Dylan was out of print. Today it’s the only Bob Dylan album ever released that is not available on CD. Blackmail plain and simple? Sure seems that way. 

An alternate version of “If Not For You” from a full day’s session with George Harrison was released on The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 box set. But the real treats, if you can find them, are alternate versions of “Went To See The Gypsy,” “If Not For You” and “Sign On The Window” from the bootleg The Third One Now: Genuine Bootleg Series Volume Three. All three songs are dramatically different than the released versions and show completely different sides of the compositions. “I Went To See The Gypsy” is much slower, much more dramatic, just Dylan, a bass and a piano. It’s beautiful. “If Not For You” is also much slower, this time with a very prominent, almost symphonic, violin. Dylan sings each line with real passion, much more seriously than on the official version. It’s quite stunning. “Sign On The Window” adds dramatic strings (and a harp!) throughout, to mixed results.

New Morning may not be one of Dylan’s best albums, but it’s certainly worthy of a place on any music lover’s CD shelves. With Dylan almost every album has it’s own distinctive sound, feel and vibe, different from any of the others. This is no exception. I find something new almost every time I listen to it.

Other Listens on June 23rd:
Magic by Bruce Springsteen
With Friends And Neighbors by Alex Taylor
Writer by Carole King
All This Tangled Rope by Bob Dylan
Dusty In Memphis by Dusty Springfield
Abandoned Luncheonette by Daryl Hall & John Oates
The Very Best Of The Sutherland Brothers by The Sutherland Brothers 

Most people generally know of Steve Miller via “Fly Like An Eagle,” “Take The Money And Run,” “Jet Airliner” and a few other massive mid-70s mainstream hits. Sure, some probably also remember “Space Cowboy,” “Gangster Of Love” and “Living In The USA” from several years earlier. In fact, 1976’s Fly Like An Eagle (his really big breakthrough) was Steve Miller’s eighth album. The Joker, released in 1973 had indeed done very well also, going platinum I think. Miller was signed to Capitol Records from the very beginning and recorded almost his entire output for them. I think only his last real album, 1993’s Wide River, was recorded for another label. A story like that would be completely unheard of today. These days you get dropped if your first album isn’t a smash. You might get the chance to make a follow up if the label really thinks there’s some potential. But three, four, five, six, seven albums before a big hit? No way in hell.

I have to admit, until recently I too was mostly just familiar with the 70s albums. Fly Like An Eagle and Book Of Dreams are classic 70s albums that I come back to often. Somewhere along the line I’d also picked up a copy of The Best Of 1968-1973 which covers the “pre” Fly Like An Eagle era (but for some odd reason doesn’t contain anything from Children Of The Future). But, in truth, I’d probably only listened to it once. I knew Miller had made a bunch of earlier albums, but never found the time or inspiration to go tracking them down.

Late last year Rhino Records issued one of their truly fabulous box set compilations, Love Is The Song We Sing, a four disc set of late 60s San Francisco rock. I’ll buy almost any box set compilation they put out (Nuggets, Nuggets II, Children Of Nuggets, Rockin’ Bones, Loud, Fast & Out Of Control, No Thanks: The 70s Punk Rebellion, One Kiss Led To Another: Girl Group Sounds, to name a few). One of the tracks that caught my attention on Love Is The Song We Sing is “Roll With It.” Wow, this sounds great. The Steve Miller Band? From 1968? Who knew? So, as often happens when I listen to these compilations I started looking through Amazon for early Steve Miller Band CDs, especially Children Of The Future (from which “Roll With It” was taken.) I found it on sale for $7.99, so I ordered it and now I’m playing it quite a bit. 

The cover is a typical “spaced out” psychedelic affair, but this was, after all, San Francisco in 1968. Side one of the original LP was one long extended piece of music (again, very 1968) with each song segueing seamlessly into the next. The album opens with a loud, raucous, feedback driven short intro that dovetails into an acoustic riff with seagulls chirping in the background and soft double tracked vocals. You can almost hear the roots of the 70s Steve Miller Band sound here and then suddenly the song kicks into “Pushed Me To It” a snappy little rocker that only last 38 seconds before “You’ve Got The Power” takes over for another 53 seconds. From there we have a lengthy blues rock piece titled “In My First Mind” and then the centerpiece of side one, “The Beauty Of Time Is That It’s Snowing (Psychedelic B.B.),” which ties back into the intro (with the seagulls returning) along with lots of odd sound effects and mood setting instrumental passages. A true 60s “psychedelic” jam.

Side two consists of mostly blues-rock pieces (acoustic and electric) including two great songs written by band member Boz Scaggs, especially “Baby’s Callin’ Me Home.” Yep, that Boz Scaggs. He played in the Steve Miller Band for their first two albums, this one and Sailor, before exiting to start his solo career. There’s another good example of the way labels would support, nurture and encourage artists in the sixties and seventies. Boz made five albums before his big breakthrough (Silk Degrees) in 1976. A laid back, acoustic, harmonica and organ driven version of “Key To The Highway” rounds out the album on a great note.

It’s true that I listen to a lot of “old” music, but I listen to an awful lot of music that is “new to me.” I’m constantly going back and filling in missing catalog items, discovering new artists that I’d missed the first time around, revisiting artists and CDs that I’d never really given a chance before. There’s just way too much music out there to get to all of it. Compilations like Love Is The Song We Sing usually end up costing me far more than the initial cost of the box set. Song after song will send me researching at allmusic.com or Amazon and before I know it I’m buying album after album based on some track I really liked on the box set. Children Of The Future already has me inspired to start picking up even more early Steve Miller Band CDs.

I spent my teenage years in Lancaster, California, a small town in the desert about an hour north of Los Angeles. I had lived there for many years when I was younger, before we moved to Ohio for about four or five years and then back to Lancaster when I was thirteen. We could get the Los Angeles FM radio stations, so this is where I was usually exposed to new music. And we got the Los Angeles Times newspaper. The music critic was a guy named Robert Hilburn. I think he stayed in that post until 2005, writing for the paper for almost 40 years. I would read his columns and reviews in the 70s almost religiously. He seemed to have very similar tastes to me so I was often encouraged to seek out and buy albums that he recommended. In 1974 that included three artists new to me: Waylon Jennings, Billy Joe Shaver and Michael Dinner. Waylon had recently released his breakthrough album Honky Tonk Heroes. Billy Joe Shaver, who wrote all but one of the songs on Honky Tonk Heroes had just released his first solo album, Old Five And Dimers Like Me. Shortly after that Michael Dinner released his first album, The Great Pretender. It was a long time ago so I am a little fuzzy on the details but I think I remember Hilburn had suggested that Jennings should record some of Dinner’s songs. (That never happened.) Regardless, Hilburn had great things to say about all three albums so it wasn’t long before I picked them all up. All three are still big time favorites.

I don’t know a lot about Michael Dinner. The Great Pretender is fabulous album, along the lines of Jackson Browne and some of the other LA singer-songwriters, but a little more country. The songs are first rate. The album is full of the LA players of the day: John Boylan, Michael Bowden, Ed Black, Don Felder, Sneaky Pete, Andrew Gold, Al Perkins, David Lindley, Larry Knechtel, Mike Utley and more. Linda Rondstadt, Herb Pedersen, Gail Davies and Ronee Blakely all sing hamony. John Boylan produced the album and his production is picture perfect for Dinner and his songs. Interestingly, the album was released on Fantasy Records which was not known for singer-songwriters, country or anything along those lines. Which is maybe why the album never went anywhere and why I never learned much about Dinner. I don’t know if he ever toured around this album, I never saw anything about him playing live and I tended to keep a pretty close eye out for those kinds of things.

The album kicks off with the title track: “All the boys in Mobile call you Jenny, all the boys in Memphis call you Jane, all the boys in this bar call you easy, but I’m the only one that knows your name.” It’s a great opening song. There are several fine ballads (”Jamaica,” “Sunday Morning Fool” and “Pentacott Lane”), a truck driving song (”Yellow Rose Express”), a straight ahead country barroom song (”So if you say your name’s Betty Grable, I’ll say I’m really John Wayne, When you’re five miles from nowhere with nothing, who gives a damn ’bout a name”) and a rocking tune about the “Tattooed Man From Chelsea” with Don Felder from the Eagles on great slide guitar. It’s a well-rounded disc with lots to offer. I listen to this album on a very regular basis. I never get tired of it.

Dinner made another album for Fantasy, Tom Thumb The Dreamer. It’s very good, but I like the first album better. Then he was never heard from again. At least in the music world. He’s one of the those “great lost” artists that made a couple of wonderful albums and then just disappeared. Many years later I was watching an episode of the TV show The Wonder Years and noticed that it was directed by Michael Dinner. Well, there’s probably lots of Michael Dinner’s out there I figured. Still, it stuck in my mind. Not too long ago I got curious and I did some searching on the internet and sure enough, it’s the same Michael Dinner. 

Neither of Dinner’s albums have ever been released on CD anywhere in the world as near as I can tell. I’ve ripped both of them to CD, along with a 45 released prior to the second album with a different version of one of the songs on that album. I think he’s done a lot of TV directing including Karen Sisco, Chicago Hope, Kidnapped, Law & Order and many more. Too bad he never made any more music. Or maybe he did and it was just never released to the public. Hey, Michael, if you’re out there, maybe it’s time for another album. What do you say? 

Other Listens on June 21st:
Beautiful Loser by Bob Seeger 

Shelby Lynne’s been making records for almost twenty years now. Her first album, Sunrise, was released in 1989 on Epic. It took about ten years for me to find my way to her. In 2000 she released a stunning album titled I Am Shelby Lynne. Now, I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard any of her earlier albums (she made a total of five before I Am Shelby Lynne), but my understanding is that they are pretty much straight ahead country in the 90s Nashville vein. I think they’re almost all out of print now. I have a few of them, so one of these days I’ll get around to listening to them. I think she had some success, but apparently she didn’t feel like she was making the kind of music she really wanted to make. Somewhere I read a great review or heard something about I Am Shelby Lynne, so I picked it up and was just blown away. This was not country music, this was Southern blue-eyed soul music along the lines of Tony Joe White and Dan Penn but by a woman with a killer voice and a real attitude. It was a complete reinvention of herself and it worked. It worked damn well. So well in fact that Lynne received the Grammy that year for “Best New Artist.” Which is just so damn typical of everything that is wrong with the Grammy awards. I mean how do you get an award for Best New Artist when you’ve made six records during the past ten years? Whatever. I’m happy for her, but it’s just silly. The record itself was what should have received a Grammy. Bill Bottrell produced the album (he also produced Sheryl Crow’s first album) and  some of the credit has to go to him. He co-wrote just about every song on the album with Lynne and does a superb job of matching the texture and atmosphere of the music to each song and Lynne’s singing. But in the end, it was Lynne that really made the album something special. She’s a terrific singer and this batch of songs was suited perfectly to her style and her voice. It’s a minor masterpiece. 

Lynne made three more albums after I Am Shelby Lynne. Unfortunately, none of them were anywhere near the level of that album. Bottrell was gone, replaced by Lynne herself on two of them. I had high hopes for each one but was ultimately disappointed and the three of them together don’t get anywhere near the spins I still give I Am Shelby Lynne. But, I love that album so much that I’m still willing to give a new release of hers the benefit of the doubt and hope that maybe she’s found her way back to that magic place.

So, along comes Just A Little Lovin’. “Inspired By Dusty Springfield” it say prominently on the cover. On paper this sounds fantastic. What a great idea. Lynne singing Dusty Springfield classics like “You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me,” “I Only Want To Be With You,” “Breakfast In Bed” and “The Look Of Love.” What could go wrong? Well, I’m not sure I can put my finger on exactly what did go wrong, but it certainly is not the album I had hoped for. Now I’ve got no problem with covers. I love covers. An inspired cover version of a great song can be a truly wonderful thing. But the first rule of covering a song should be to bring something new to the remake. Otherwise you just make me want to listen to the original version. You’ve got to put your own mark, your own stamp on the song for it to work. A perfect cover pays obvious homage to the original in a brand new, unique way. That just doesn’t happen here. In a word, this album is boring. It’s way, way too sleepy. Dusty Springfield was a master of making a slow ballad seem animated, even effervescent. The songs might indeed be “slow” songs but between Springfield’s singing and the usually brilliant production even a slow song became a lively pop nugget.

Lynne and Producer Phil Ramone approach these songs with way too much reverence. It’s like a dusty, seldom visited museum. And everything seems slowed down to the point where everything just blends together and one song seems just like the previous one. None of the spark, the soul or the buoyancy present in so much of Springfield’s music seems present here. It’s plodding and dull. It just doesn’t work. All it makes me want to do is throw on Dusty In Memphis (which I’m actually listening to now as I write this) or The Very Best Of Dusty Springfield. And unfortunately that’s about the worst thing I can say about a collection of cover songs. Now, I will say that I’ve only given this disc a few spins so far. I can’t see how, but it’s always possible it will grow on me with a few more listens. I’d like to hope so, I just don’t have much faith that it will. I had a hard time getting through the last listen.

I bought my copy of this at Best Buy and it includes an exclusive DVD. Well, it’s not much of a DVD, it’s just two live performances filmed at what looks to be a show celebrating the release of the album in Nashville. It’s even more of a let down than the album. Lynne practically sleepwalks through “Breakfast In Bed” and “Wishin’ And Hopin’.” I mean, come on, “Wishin’ And Hopin’” is like a bottle of champagne, it should be full of sparkle and bounce, but here it’s just plain flat. 

Other Listens on June 20th:
Daltrey by Roger Daltrey
New Skin For The Old Ceremony by Leonard Cohen
Livin’ For You by Al Green
Song For An Uncertain Lady by Randy Burns 

In September 1976 I left Syracuse, New York with my girlfriend, Anne, headed for Boulder, Colorado. We never made it there. We hitchhiked down the East coast, all the way to Key West, Florida (where I’d lived for a short while in 1975). Anne had never travelled much so we decided to see the states on our way to Boulder. From Key West we hitchhiked up to Nashville. From there we headed to Austin, Texas. And that’s where we ended up. We loved Austin. We stayed for a few weeks and decided, hey this is great, let’s just stay here. And to be honest, at that point, we were getting a little tired of the road. Little did I know I’d be in the Austin area for the better part of the next 20 years. My only goal in life at that point was to get a job at a record store. Before too long I was working at Disc Records in Highland Mall. I was in heaven. Those were the days when every record was a potential friend. I’d pour over album covers reading liner notes, looking at musicians, producers, songwriters, trying to get as much information as I could about each record that caught my interest. 

I came across an album by a guy named Sammy Walker. There was a great black and white photo on the front of this young, country looking kid with a cigarette in his hand. It was produced by Nikolas Venet, so that immediately gave him credibility with me. Nik had produced some of my favorite records, including California Bloodlines by John Stewart. James Burton played dobro (he’d played with Elvis Presley and Gram Parsons, along with so many others), Dan Dugmore (John Stewart, Linda Ronstadt, James Taylor, etc.) played pedal steel, Waddy Wachtel (Warren Zevon and others) played guitar (though he was listed as Robert Wachtel). The liner notes said his first album had been produced by Phil Ochs. That was enough right there. I was a huge Phil Ochs fan. I bought the album, titled Sammy Walker, and I’ve been playing it in regular rotation for the last 30 years. It’s one of my all-time favorite albums, just a wonderful collection of Seeger/Ochs/Dylan/Guthrie influenced songwriting that I never get tired of. Sammy’s influences show in all the right ways but his songs are all his own. Extraordinary, unique, distinctive songs with spellbinding lyrics and irresistible melodies. I could compare him to a lot of other singer-songwriters but there’s really nobody else quite like him. 

As I often do when I discover a new artist, I began to look for what else there was by Sammy Walker out there. I found the previously mentioned “first album” titled Song For Patty on Folkways Records and picked it up. Songs For Patty is a more sparse affair than the self-titled album. It’s mostly just Sammy, his guitar and harmonica (with maybe a second guitar here and there, there are no musician credits on the album). Sammy wrote ten of the twelve songs on the album (it also includes one Guthrie song and one Ochs song). Two of the best songs (”Catcher In The Rye” and “Little New Jersey Town”) would be rerecorded for the self-titled album. Overall, it’s a very strong effort, an exceptional debut album. Other highlights include the title song (a great piece about Patty Hearst), “Ragamuffin Minstrel Boy” and “Closin’ Time.” A few of the songs, notably “The Ballad Of Johnny Strozier” and “Testimony Of A Dying Lady” reflect Sammy’s topical, folk, protest roots (though he was about a decade late to the party). Sammy was a “discovery” of Broadside Magazine, the famous 60s publication which had published the first works of Dylan, Ochs, Janis Ian, Peter La Farge and many others. The original vinyl album came with an eight page insert, “Broadside #127,” which contained all the lyrics, sheet music, various short articles and photos. I don’t play this album as much as his two Warner Brothers albums, but I do come back to it on a regular basis.

Sammy made a second great album for Warner Brothers, Blue Ridge Mountain Skyline, which was released in 1977. He followed that with another album for Folkways, Songs From Woody’s Pen, in 1979. And that was pretty much it for a long time. He released a live album in 1990 (Sammy Walker In Concert) and a studio album in 1994 (Old Time Southern Dream). Both were released only in Europe on a Swiss label. Both had their moments but neither lived up to the stellar quality of his releases in the 70s. There are rumors that he will release a new album soon on the Ramseur Records label, but I haven’t seen anything concrete yet. But rest assured, I’ll give anything he puts out a spin as soon as it’s available.

Song For Patty has never been released on CD in the US. There is an import version on Amazon that sells for $51.99. Probably from Japan. His two Warner releases were also released on CD in Japan for a very brief period but I was only able to ever find the second one. They’re nowhere to be found these days. The two 90s albums are not available anymore either, at least at Amazon. Much to my amazement though, I recently discovered that Song For Patty is available as a download at Amazon. Not sure why, but there it is. It’s the only album of his that is available as a download. And both Songs For Patty and Songs From Woody’s Pen are available at iTunes. It’s ridiculous that so many great albums are still not available in this day of digital downloading. It’s the one area where I truly believe the record labels are missing the boat. It would cost practically nothing to transfer these over to digital files and make them available. No inventory, no manufacturing, no storage. I could list 100 albums (at least) that I would buy right now if they were only available as downloads.

Other Listens on June 19th:
Hollywood Pocketknife by Eric Taylor
Where I’m Bound by Bob Gibson
Yer’ Album by The James Gang
Elton John (Deluxe Version) by Elton John 
Children Of The Future by Steve Miller Band 
The Essential Lee Clayton: 1978-1981 by Lee Clayton 

I have two close friends whose musical opinions and tastes I value very much, both of whom just can’t stand Leonard Cohen. He’s one of those artists that people seem to love or hate (no pun intended). There’s not a lot of middle ground when it comes to Leonard. Personally, I can’t get enough of the guy. He’s been one of my very, very favorite songwriters since I was in high school. You can’t compare Cohen to anyone. He’s one of a kind. A true poet. Some people have a problem with his voice and his singing, but not me. But then again, I tend to love singers that others don’t seem to appreciate: Bob Dylan and Neil Young come to mind. I discovered him via his second album, Songs From A Room (still one of my favorites). That album, along with his first (Songs Of Leonard Cohen) and third (Songs Of Love And Hate) have recently been reissued by Columbia in limited edition, deluxe, hard-cover digipacks with new liner notes, unreleased tracks and rare photos. I was looking through my Cohen CDs the other day searching for something to listen to. I’ve got all his albums (including a couple that have never been released in the US, only in Europe) and a dozen or so bootlegs. But the one I was looking for wasn’t there. New Skin For The Old Ceremony. Hmm. Maybe I never got that on CD for some reason. I’ve got two copies on vinyl. It was one of those albums that was released with one cover originally and then the cover was changed on subsequent pressings (Bob Dylan’s Blood On The Tracks is another great example of this). So, of course I had to have both pressings. So I checked on Amazon and found the CD for $5.97. Sign me up! Hell, I’ll buy almost anything for $5.97. 

New Skin For The Old Ceremony was Cohen’s fourth studio album (he followed the third with a fantastic live album, Live Songs). It doesn’t seem to be one of his better known albums though. I find it downright mesmerizing. The songs themselves were not much of a departure from his earlier writing, but the production certainly was. While his first three albums had been sparse “folk” efforts, mostly just him and a guitar, this was a much more realized affair with a full band (and even horns). Songs like “Lover Lover Lover,” “There Is A War,” “Who By Fire” and, especially “Is This What You Wanted” were direct, in your face performances, unlike anything Cohen had done before. Lyrically he was mining familiar territory, relationships of the heart, soul and body (”You were KY jelly, I was vasoline”), but there was a new sense of energy and forcefulness, not just in the music but the words as well. “Chelsea Hotel #2″ is probably the best known song from this album, an almost “throwaway” piece about Janis Joplin (”I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel, that’s all I don’t even think about you that often”). I have no idea where this album stands in the ranks of the true Cohen followers (which are legion), but I listen to it a lot more than his more well known first or third albums.

I always thought it would be fun to be a DJ. I could play the music I loved and cherised and people would have to listen to it. I have a sort of “missionary” side to me when it comes to the music I love. I want to turn everyone I know onto it. I want them to like it as much as I do. I want them to see the magic and the salvation in it. A good song can save your life. Of course I found out a long time ago DJs these days don’t get to play the music they want. Maybe back in the 60s it was different. But it certainly hasn’t been that way for a very long time. I did spend part of a summer once in Telluride, Colorado, working as a dishwasher and living in a tent on the side of the most magnificent mountain I’d ever seen. There was a little “community” radio station and I managed to get signed up as a DJ for a short time, mostly filling in for other people who couldn’t make a shift. It was great. I played exactly what I wanted, no one told me what to do or what to play. I played everything from Bob Dylan to the Eagles to John Prine and a lot of stuff I was certain no one had ever heard before, stuff I can’t remember anymore. That was almost thirty years ago. And of course, Leonard Cohen. Only to have my good friend Bill (one of the two I mentioned at the beginning of this post) come up to me later and ask why in the hell I was playing that crap. What crap I asked innocently, all the time knowing he was speaking about Cohen. He described it as the sound of animals dying. There you go. Just like the religious missionaries know, you can’t save them all. But at least I tried.

Cohen has continued to release new albums on a semi-regular basis. Most of them would get five star ratings from me. I still listen to almost all of them. He was inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame this year and is touring this summer for the first time in fifteen years.  

Other Listens on June 18th:
Byrd Parts 2 by Various Artists
Toys In The Attic by Aerosmith
The Desert Rose Band by The Desert Rose Band
Evening Of The Magician by Randy Burns 

In the mid-90s Rocket/Island Records reissued the first twelve Elton John albums as “The Classic Years.” Each one was remastered, included the original album artwork, a nice essay and usually a few bonus tracks. These were perfect for me as this is my favorite Elton John period. I snapped them all up pretty quickly. Well, actually I got nine of them right away. I didn’t pick up Caribou, Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy and Rock Of The Westies for several years. There’s not a single album after Hear And There that I ever listen to. I don’t think I even have any of them on CD. Oh, I did buy Songs From The West Coast when it was released in 2001, received great reviews and was hailed as his “return to form.” What a sucker I am. Like almost every other time I can think of when a similar situation has occurred with other artists I was mightily disappointed in the album. I think I listened to it a few times hoping against hope that the magic had indeed returned. Nope. I haven’t listened to it in years.

A year or two ago Universal released a Deluxe Edition of Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy. It’s always been my least favorite of these first twelve “classic” albums, but I’m a sucker for these Deluxe Editions, so I waited until it was on sale at Tower Records (rip) for $19.99 and I picked it up. Still didn’t do much for me, though I gave it quite a few good listens. The live bonus disc was a nice addition though. Now along comes the Deluxe Editions of the Elton John and Tumbleweed Connection albums. Tumbleweed Connection is probably my favorite Elton John album (actually, it might be tied with Madman Across The Water), and the self-titled album is not far behind. So there was no question I’d be getting these. It was just a matter of when. I buy almost all my CDs at Amazon these days. Sooner or later they put almost all of these Deluxe Editions on sale for $19.99. I just try to stay patient, check back frequently and then scoop them up when the price is right. They reduced the price on these last week so I put in my order.

Tumbleweed Connection was the first album that I ever wrote a “review” of. A couple of friends and I started an underground newspaper at our high school in Quartz Hill, California in 1971 and I wrote a review of the album for one of the issues. I was waiting for this album. I’d really loved the self-titled album and was excited to hear more from Elton. Tumbleweed Connection did not disappoint. Lots and lots of great songs. Elton and Bernie were really close to their peak here. “Country Comfort” is probably the most well known, but “Ballad Of A Well-Known Gun,” “Come Down In Time,” “Where To Now St. Peter,” “Burn Down The Mission” and “Amoreena” are all favorites. Elton’s producer Gus Dudgeon and arranger Paul Buckmaster had a real knack for sculpting the sound to fit each of these songs perfectly. It still sounds great today.

Much has been made of the “western” theme of this album. Apparently Bernie Taupin had a fascination with the American west and it certainly shows in several of these songs. It’s not quite a concept album, though Dudgeon notes in his liner notes to the 1995 reissue that it seems the Eagles were listening (Desperado was released a year or two later). The sepia tinged old-time photographs and artwork add to the western feeling. Tumbleweed Connection didn’t have any hits. It did well on the charts at the time I think, based on the strong sales of the previous album, but it wasn’t a “single oriented” album. It also contained the only (I think) song Elton has ever recorded by another artist, Lesley Duncan’s classic “Love Song.” Duncan recorded a few albums herself in the nineties (probably as a direct result of this cover). I have a few on vinyl and one on CD and they’re actually fairly good.

The 1995 reissue of Tumbleweed Connection included two bonus tracks, the previously unreleased “Into The Old Man’s Shoes” and an early version of “Madman Across The Water.” Both are included on this new Deluxe Version, along with 11 more bonus tracks. “Into The Old Man’s Shoes” is an excellent song and would have been right at home on the album. I’m just guessing, but I wonder if it might have been left off because of the “father” reference and the fact that another song was titled “My Father’s Gun” and they both cover similar territory. The early version of “Madman Across The Water” is 9 minutes long, almost twice as long as the official version released the following year on the album of the same name. The Deluxe Version also includes 5 “piano demos,” a couple of alternate versions and 4 songs cut live for the BBC. They’re all of great interest if you’re a real fan of Elton or this album. “Sisters Of The Cross” is a song I’ve never heard before, not even on bootlegs. Great stuff. A nice essay from John Tobler, lyrics, original artwork, credits and unreleased photos round out the package, making it another very welcome addition to the continuing Deluxe Version series. I’m assuming there will be Deluxe Versions of more early Elton John albums, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see. 

Other Listens on June 17th:
Grateful Dead by Grateful Dead
Santana by Santana
Rose by Rose
These Four Walls by Shawn Colvin 
Of Love And War by Randy Burns