Shelter From The Storm

I grew up in Southern California. But, I’ve never been surfing, not even once. There’s a lot more to Southern California than just the “surfing/beach party” impression that many people have of it. My family moved to Lancaster, a small town in the Mojave Desert, when I was about three or four. It’s less than a ninety-minute drive from Lancaster to the golden beaches of Santa Monica, Venice or even Malibu. But in almost every way possible it seemed like a million miles away to a kid growing up there in the sixties. Lancaster is flat, desolate, windy and barren. Some people find beauty in the desert but it’s not easy for me to see. I spent too many formative years there, bored, restless and dreaming of the excitement and adventure that I knew must surely exist somewhere else. Lancaster has grown a lot in the last 40 years, but back in the sixties it was a world away from the glamour of Hollywood, the hustle of Los Angeles or the surf culture of Topanga Beach. 

I was only six years old when The Beach Boys had their first hit with “Surfin’ USA.” I’d hear some of their songs on the radio now and then growing up, but they never made much of an impression on me. I don’t think I owned a single Beach Boys album until I was well into my twenties when I picked up a copy of Endless Summer, their 2 LP greatest hits collection. But that was about as far as my interest in The Beach Boys went. Sometime in 1990 Capitol reissued Pet Sounds on CD with three bonus tracks and extensive liner notes. I figured it was about time I spent some time with this “classic” album I’d always heard so much about so I bought a copy. The first thing I realized was that I had heard more of this music than I thought I had. The opening track, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” as well as “Sloop John B” were, of course, radio staples (be it on AM in the sixties or Classic Rock FM in the eighties and nineties). “Caroline, No” and “God Only Knows” were also quite familiar to me as were some of the other songs. Still there was a lot of new music on the disc that I hadn’t really listened to before. I spent a lot of time listening to it, and I’m sure it will come as no surprise to anyone who’s familiar with the album, the more time I spent with it, the more I heard and the deeper I got into it. It truly is one of rock’s greatest triumphs and a record unlike anything else I’ve ever heard.

It’s said that Brian Wilson was inspired to create Pet Sounds by the 1965 US release of The Beatles’ Rubber Soul album. That album was the first that Wilson had ever heard where he felt like the songs belonged together, that the whole thing was one coherent piece of musical art, not just a collection of ten or twelve random songs thrown together for sales purposes. In turn the writing and production on Pet Sounds, mainly the rich, sumptuous, almost symphonic sound that Wilson meticulously crafted with layers and layers of vocals and instrumentation is said to have inspired The Beatles to create Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It’s also been reported that Wilson basically made Pet Sounds as a solo album, with the rest of the band lending a hand only on the multi-tracked vocal harmonies. The first single from the album, “Caroline, No” was even released under Wilson’s name, not the band’s.

Pet Sounds marked a distinct departure from the Beach Boys’ albums that had proceeded it. Party and surfing songs were replaced with introspective, intimate, almost confidential ballads full of longing, confusion and emotional uncertainty. Rock ‘n’ roll was, for the most part, replaced with grand, extravagant pieces of luxurious, at times almost classical, music. There were even two instrumentals (”Let’s Go Away For Awhile” and “Pet Sounds”), a little odd for a “vocal” group. “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” the lead off track, is a glorious, vibrant piece of buoyant optimism that provides a perfect bridge from the Beach Boys’ earlier sound to Wilson’s new vision. Whether intentional or not, it’s almost as if Wilson is tipping his hat to the past as he prepares us for what’s to come, hoping to dampen the shock a little bit. From there we head straight into the melancholy heart of Pet Sounds with “You Still Believe In Me,” “That’s Not Me” and especially “Don’t Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder).” Every time Wilson comes close to a song that might not have seemed out of place on an earlier Beach Boys album he pulls back at the last moment. Listen to “That’s Not Me” and you can clearly hear how Wilson could have very easily taken the song in a different direction and turned it into a typical “pop” gem. Instead, he pulls in the reigns and gives it a much more understated feeling. In downplaying the “Top 40″ nature (that he could easily have followed) he creates a song that stands as a true testament to the evolution of a master songwriter.  Same thing with “I’m Waiting For The Day”. Just when you think the chorus is going to open up into a typical sixties pop nugget, Wilson turns the whole thing around. I just love those drums that only seem to appear between verses. “Sloop John B” was the biggest hit from the album in the US, while in England “God Only Knows,” surely one of the most achingly beautiful pop songs ever created, was a number 2 smash (it only reached number 39 in the States). “I Know There’s An Answer” and “Here Today” are as close as the album comes to the uptempo, rocking numbers from years gone by. But the real soul of the album lies in “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times” a song that uncannily prophesies Wilson’s subsequent withdrawal from society. ”Caroline, No” is the perfect, plaintive summation of everything that came before it. From start to finish, it’s every bit the masterpiece most critics and listeners refer to it as.

Pet Sounds has been reissued over and over since it first appeared on CD in 1990. Capitol released a four disc box set (The Pet Sound Sessions) in 1997, a mono version/stereo version disc in 1999 and a two 40th Anniversary Editions in 2006. I think there may have even been one or two other versions in there somewhere as well. All the “extra” tracks, the bonus material, the session snippets, the instrumental beds and everything else are great, but when you get right down to it, it’s really the thirteen songs from the the original album that matter most. If you have those, you have the stuff that counts.

Pet Sounds was the first Beach Boys album to fail to reach Gold Record status upon it’s release. While it certainly couldn’t be considered a failure at the time, it was also not considered the masterpiece it is revered as today. It was only in the following years that Wilson’s innovation and creativity was truly appreciated to the point where it’s now considered one of the classic rock albums of all time. And it’s interesting to note that Pet Sounds just keeps moving higher and higher in stature among critics and listeners as the years go by. In the 1978 poll it was number 12, in 1987 it was number 8 and in 2003 it had risen all the way to number 2. (See my post about Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band for more information on these three polls.) I guess I’m not the only one who came a little late to the party.

#2 Rolling Stone: The 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time (2003)
#8 Critics’ Choice: The Top 100 Rock ‘n’ Roll Albums Of All Time (1987)
#12 Rock Critics’ Choice: The Top 200 Albums (1978)
Somewhere between #50 and #100 on my list of all-time favorite albums

Other Listens on August 17th:
Max’s Kansas City Night (bootleg) by Bruce Springsteen
Joe’s Place ‘74 Soundboard (bootleg) by Bruce Springsteen

I’m starting another little side project today. I love lists. (I’ve got a few over in my sidebar if you want to take a look.) There’s something about the “organization” of lists that just suits me perfectly. I like order, organization, everything in it’s place. I have lists of things to do each day, lists of things to do tomorrow, lists of albums I need to buy, lists of albums I need to sell, lists of albums I love and like, lists of artists I need to make iTunes playlists (more lists!) for. I don’t think I’m quite as carried away as the guys from the movie High Fidelity are, but my wife and some of my friends might disagree. In 1978 I found a book titled Rock Critics’ Choice: The Top 200 Albums compiled by Paul Gambaccini. I loved going through the book and comparing my favorite albums with the ones chosen by a group of nearly four dozen journalists and critics. It was a small, simple book and most of the entries were simple listings with label info, release dates and tracks. Some of the albums featured a short blurb by a writer who had chosen it as his number one favorite. The second half of the book was even more fascinating, as each of the contributors was asked to list their Top Ten albums of all time. Gambaccini updated the book ten years later in 1987, cutting it to 100 albums but including an essay about each album and enlarging it into a “coffee book” size tome. In 2005 Rolling Stone went far deeper and released a The 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time (based on an issue of the magazine from December 2003). Using what they called a “blue-ribbon panel of experts and true fans” (hey, what about me, I’m a true fan!) they published the “definitive” list for every rock and roll collector. 273 voters (singers, songwriters, musicians, producers, managers, critics, label executives and more) cast ballots. To their credit they cast a wide net: Britney Spears got a vote, as did Pete Seeger. There were no restrictions on albums, any album was eligible for a vote. They did, however, use a “weighted point system developed by the accounting firm of Ernst & Young under the supervision of the editors of Rolling Stone.” I’m not sure exactly what that means or how the “weighed” the votes, but apparently there was some “massaging” of the results. Regardless, it’s a fascinating book. Of course the first thing I did was look through it and wonder in amazement at how some of my favorite albums were not even included; how some of my least favorite albums placed so high; and at how many of my favorite albums seemed to place in just about the same general area as they would on my Top 500 list.

So, I’ve decided to begin my trek through the book, listening and writing about each of the 500 albums listed therein. I’ll probably only cover one every week or two, so it may take five or ten years for me to get through the entire book, but what the hell. It’s the journey that counts, right? I currently have about 300 of the 500 CDs in my collection, so it also means I’ll have to spring for the rest as the process unfolds. I’ll make a note in the title of each blog entry that is related to this side project so it’s readily apparent the post is about one of the Rolling Stone albums. First up, their Number One album of all-time: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles.

Rolling Stone calls it “the most important rock & roll album ever made” and yeah, it’s pretty hard to argue with that. Just consider the fact that it placed number one in all three of the books I mentioned above, covering a 30 year time span. However, even though I agree with that statement it doesn’t mean it’s my favorite rock & roll album of all-time. Far from it. It’s quite possible to agree that an album is “important,” “historical,” “ground-breaking” and even “great” without actually “liking” it (however, don’t get me wrong, I do like this album a lot). I’d even go so far as to say that I might consider some albums “better” than others that I actually prefer to listen to more often. My list of “favorite” albums might not be exactly the same as my list of “the greatest” albums. Emotion, sentimentality and lots of other intangible factors play a huge part in what I “like,” what I listen to and what I consider a favorite. Eddie Rabbit’s first album may not be anywhere near as good an album as Beggar’s Banquet by The Rolling Stones, but I probably listen to it more often. I like The Beatles. I have enormous respect for The Beatles. But, I’m not a Beatles fanatic. Through the years I’ve certainly listened to St. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band a lot, but it probably wouldn’t place in my list of Top 100 favorite albums. It’s a classic, of course, I won’t argue with that, but I just don’t listen to it that much. On the other hand,  John Lennon’s first solo album, Plastic Ono Band, is in my Top Ten. You figure it out.

Lots better writers than I have written books worth of material on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band with far more insight and wisdom that I could ever aspire to. I can only tell you what it does for me. I was eleven years old when the album was released. I was far too young at the time to truly appreciate the innovation and creativity the band brought to this particular release. Looking back now it’s easy to see, but only if taken in the context of the times. Most of the techniques, ideas and approaches to making music that they pioneered on this are second nature now. It’s probably pretty hard for anyone who didn’t grow up in the sixties to begin to understand how monumental this music was at the time, what a real listening experience it must have been when dropped upon the unsuspecting public. And keep in mind that all this fantastic sounding music with all its layers and instruments and vocals and sound effects was done with four-track tape machines! George Martin’s part in all of this cannot be overestimated.

My favorite songs from this album have always been “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds,” “Getting Better” and “Good Morning Good Morning.” I don’t care what John Lennon says, the psychedelic lyrics and sound of “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” can’t be anything other than a salute to LSD. It would have to be the biggest coincidence in the history of mankind for him to have not written the song reflecting on his experiences with the drug with that title. I love the majestic construction of “She’s Leaving Home.” It’s truly breathtaking. “With A Little Help From My Friends” and “When I’m Sixty-Four” are always fun. Truth is almost every song on this album is part of my musical DNA, either through the radio, the album itself or just American culture in general. The only song that really doesn’t do much for me is “Within You Without You.” It’s one of the only songs on the album that feels “inauthentic” to me, as if the eccentric production exists mainly for it’s own sake. It’s my understanding that Harrison is the only Beatle playing on this, that the rest of the musicians are Indian. And I’m all for experimentation of this sort, I just don’t think it works on this song. I’d love to hear a version done in a more typical Harrison arrangement. And then, of course, there is “A Day In The Life,” probably the single biggest, grandest, most sumptuous “grand finale” ever recorded on a modern day album. It’s also, from what I’ve read, one of the few true collaborations between Lennon and McCartney at this point in time, being composed of two song fragments that were worked into this final piece.

You can’t mention Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band without also noting the groundbreaking cover artwork which marked the beginning of albums being considered true visual art as well. It’s also, apparently, the first album of the rock era to contain complete lyrics to songs, something that would become almost mandatory in later years. And one last thing to consider: no singles were taken from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club band. It was a number one album around the world and yet no singles were pulled from it in a time when AM radio and 45RMP singles drove the record business. Truly amazing and a testament to the power of this album.

#1 Rolling Stone: The 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time (2003)
#1 Critics’ Choice: The Top 100 Rock ‘n’ Roll Albums Of All Time (1987)
#1 Rock Critics’ Choice: The Top 200 Albums (1978)
Somewhere between #100 and #200 on my list of all-time favorite albums

Other Listens on August 10th:
Eat A Peach by The Allman Brothers Band

I love box sets. I buy a lot of them. If there’s a box set by any artist I’m interested in, I’ll get it. The truth is I listen to each of them two or three times when I first get them, but after that not so much. Part of the appeal lies in the “extras” that often come with a box set: the rare unreleased tracks, the book or booklet with lots of essays, track information and liner notes, the photos and packaging, etc. But box sets can really run the gamut from flat out fantastic to a complete waste of time. Ideally a box set, if it’s done right, should represent the artist and/or period it covers in such a way that it appeals to someone who’s only marginally familiar with the music and to a true collector. This can be a tricky thing to accomplish. More and more the labels are getting it right, but there’s no guarantee. The worst box set I have is the Steely Dan collection Citizen Steely Dan 1972 - 1980. Not because of the music, the music is great. Because all it really contains is the first seven studio albums in their entirety with one hard to find b-side, one outtake and one demo. The complete lack of rare and/or unreleased material makes this a colossal waste of time, for me at least. I already have all the studio albums. One of my favorite box sets is a 26 CD set from Bob Dylan titled Jewels And Binoculars: The Definitive 1966 Collection. It’s a bootleg, of course, the labels would never indulge in something that extravagant. It collects all of the live recordings (and some studio tracks as well) that exist among collectors from Dylan in 1966.

The Band only made seven studio albums during their career. There is also the stellar live album Rock Of Ages and the farewell concert document The Last Waltz. Their recorded output has been recycled, repackaged, recompiled and rereleased quite a bit over the years. The first CD compilation came in 1989 with To Kingdom Come a two disc set that was marketed at the time as “The Definitive Collection.” For a two disc set it does a pretty good job and even throws in a couple of hard to find tracks. But it was hardly “definitive.” 1994 saw the release of the first box set, Across The Great Divide, a three disc affair. This time around there are two discs of “greatest hits” and one disc of rarities. Very nicely done with a gorgeous booklet containing a great essay by Chet Flippo, nice photos and track information. For those with bootleg tastes the wonderful Crossing The Great Divide (another three disc set released in the nineties) was a treasure trove of rare and unreleased material. In 2000 and 2001 Capital rereleased all of the groups albums once again, this time with tons of bonus tracks, great packaging and detailed liner notes. These really were the “definitive” editions. So, I for one, was not expecting to see this box set arrive in 2005. Did we really need another collection? Well, as it turns out, the answer is a definitive yes. A Music History is one of the most spectacular box sets ever released. Everything about it is simply stunning. Housed in a large 9″ by 10″ hardback book, it’s the perfect tribute to one of the best, most unique bands America has ever produced. Over five CDs and one DVD the producers of this compilations have pulled out all the stops.

True to the title the set is a virtual musical biography of the group. The first disc begins with four tracks recorded with Ronnie Hawkins (when they were known as Ronnie Hawkins & The Hawks) recorded in 1961 and 1963. There are eight rare tracks (three of them previously unreleased) recorded under the name Levon & The Hawks in 1964 and 1965. There are tracks from the famous Dylan tour of 1966, Basement Tape tracks and early demos recorded before their first album. A fair amount of this material has never been released before and did not circulate among collectors (at least not the collectors I know). It might be of only passing interest to the casual fan, but for the collectors it’s a gold mine. Discs two and three cover the prime years for The Band, 1968 through 1971, which saw the release of Music From Big Pink, The Band and Stage Fright, one of the greatest three album runs by any group ever. One of the things that made The Band so special from the beginning was the fact that they had been playing together for almost ten years before they recorded their first album. Night after night with Ronnie Hawkins, as Levon & The Hawks and with Dylan. I don’t think any other band has ever been so well “rehearsed” for their debut album. Even after packing all the reissued catalog discs with an abundance of bonus tracks enough rare and unreleased material was still found to fill out these discs quite nicely with numerous treats. In fact, of the 102 total tracks on the box set, 32 are previously unreleased. Disc four covers Cahoots (a bit of letdown at the time after their first three albums) and Rock Of Ages. There’s only three unreleased tracks here, one of which is an outtake from the Academy Of Music shows that made up Rock Of Ages. I have a great two CD bootleg titled Academy Of Outtakes that contains a wealth of material from these shows, so it’s a little disappointing they didn’t include a bit more of those tracks here. By the time we get to most of the music on disc five The Band was beginning to come apart. There are a couple of tracks from their triumphant 1974 tour with Dylan (documented officially on Before The Flood), three tracks from their covers album Moondog Matinee and one track from Dylan’s album Planet Waves on which they served as the backing band. There are only three tracks each from their last two albums, Northern Lights - Southern Cross and Islands. I would have liked to have seen Northern Lights - Southern Cross a little better represented here, but that’s a minor detail. It’s a vastly underrated album that I don’t think has ever really gotten it’s proper respect.

The final disc, a DVD, is a great bonus. It contains nine video tracks, most of which have never been seen before. The first piece “Jam/King Harvest (Has Surely Come)” was filmed in Robbie’s studio in Woodstock in 1970 and it’s a real pleasure to watch. There are a couple of tracks from the Festival Express Tour of Canada in 1970 which have now been released on another DVD. There are two tracks from Wembley Stadium in London in 1974 (a bit disappointing) and the last three tracks were recorded in 1976 for Saturday Night Live. Video of The Band is hard to come by, so the disc is a most welcome addition to the box set.

The Band is one of my favorite all time bands. This box set is a near perfect collection of their work from the very beginning to the very end. It’s great for collectors like me that already have everything else they’ve released and it’s great for someone who doesn’t have anything and wants a good compilation of their work. Any true fan could quibble with the song selection on a set like this, but, truth be told, this box set contains the very best of The Band. The 111 page hardbound book is the icing on the cake. Incredible photos. Detailed liner notes. Wonderful essays. You really couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s probably the best box set I’ve ever seen. Kudos to producers Cheryl Pawelski and Andrew Sandoval for doing such a fantastic job and for giving this great band the homage they so richly deserve.

One of the most influential albums from my teen years was the original Woodstock album. A three record set it was something that me and my friends played over and over and over again. I can’t begin to count the number of levels it impacted me on: musical, lyrical, political, sociological, just everything. I was thirteen years old when Woodstock was held, fourteen when the album was originally released: in many ways an open vessel just waiting to be filled with new music, new ideas and new influences. I was first exposed to so many artists and bands through Woodstock: Canned Heat, Richie Havens, Country Joe And The Fish, Joe Cocker, Ten Years After, Sly & The Family Stone and especially Santana. Their performance of “Soul Sacrifice” is considered by almost everyone to be one of the highlights of the album. While I’m the first to admit that I’ve never been that “adventurous” when it comes to music (I tend to stick to pop, rock, folk, singer-songwriter and country) there are a few places where I’ve found things I like outside of what I might consider my “normal” parameters. I love Bob Marley and the Wailers, and though I doubt I have a single other reggae album in my collection, I have almost of of Marley’s, several in the deluxe “Legacy” edition. I’m completely mesmerized by the My Fair Lady soundtrack, though it’s the only “Broadway” album I’ve ever listened to. Santana is another perfect example. Their “latin-tinged” rock not the kind of thing I would normally be drawn to. I don’t listen to any other music even remotely like it. And on top of that a lot of the songs are instrumentals. I’ve always, since the very beginning, been drawn to words, to lyrics. I don’t listen to much instrumental music at all. But there is something about their first three albums that truly captivates and fascinates me. But, even with Santana, that’s about as far as I go, the first three albums by the original Woodstock-era line-up. I lose interest in Santana’s work after that, as the original band gradually changed and Carlos took the music in a more jazz oriented direction. And I didn’t care at all for Supernatural, his big “come back” album from 1999, which, amazingly enough, turned out to be the biggest Santana album ever, released thirty years after their debut.

Santana, the band’s debut, was released in August 1969, the same month that the Woodstock festival took place. Their performance at Woodstock and the inclusion of “Soul Sacrifice” on the soundtrack album had an enormous impact on sales for this album. It stayed on the charts for over two years, peaking at number four. It contained not only the studio version of “Soul Sacrifice” but their first big hit, “Evil Ways” which was a Top 10 single. I didn’t listen to Santana a whole lot during the actual time period when this music was released. I had two of those first three albums and of course I heard the hits constantly on the radio (”Black Magic Woman,” “Oye Como Va,” “Everybody’s Everything” and “No One To Depend On”). I hadn’t purchased anything on CD when, in 1998, Sony/Legacy reissued the first three albums with bonus tracks and so I scooped them all up immediately. What a treat it was to rediscover these three albums and spend some time really listening to them.

Santana is a tour-de-force from start to finish. From the very beginning you know right away you’re in for something special. Composed of seven members, the original line up consisted of black, Latino and white musicians. The unique sound they developed was unlike anything that came before or after. Centered around Carlos Santana’s stinging guitar, Gregg Rolie’s swirling organ and three, count ‘em three, percussionists (two on congas and various other instruments and one on drums) the band coalesced together into an amazingly tight musical unit. The album begins with “Waiting” a classic Santana track that could have easily been another hit for the band. The congas kick in first, then the drums, then another set of congas, then the organ and finally the guitar. It’s the quintessential Santana sound.  Some bands take several albums to find their footing but these guys were red hot from the get go playing together with a cohesion and accord that some bands never find.

Songwriting was mostly a group affair as five of the nine songs on the album are credited to four or more of the band members. Only “Jingo” and “Evil Ways” were written by outside sources. There’s no filler on this album. Each and every one of the tracks is something special. In addition to “Waiting,” “Soul Sacrifice” and “Evil Ways” my other favorites are “Savor,” “Jingo” and “Persuasion.”

As bonus tracks this 1998 reissue features three of the seven songs that Santana played at Woodstock: “Soul Sacrifice,” “Savor” and “Fried Neckbones” the latter two performances having never been officially released before (”Fried Neckbones” has never been released in any other form that I know of). One listen and it’s readily apparent why the crowds at Woodstock were so blown away by these guys. When the drum solo ends on “Soul Sacrifice” and the entire band kicks back in it’s pure magic. Six years later Sony/Legacy would go on to rerelease this album yet again as a two disc “Legacy Edition” this time including the entire seven song Woodstock performance and a bunch of outtakes and alternate versions. I haven’t upgraded to that version yet, but it’s on my list.

Other Listens on July 17th:
Wrap Around Joy by Carole King

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

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.

It’s hard to believe this album is nearly 40 years old. But it will be next year. Forty years. It still sounds so fresh and vibrant. A hell of a lot better than most of the stuff being released these days, that’s for sure. That opening stomp of guitars, bass and drums on “Cinnamon Girl” is just classic. This was not my first Neil Young album, nor is it my favorite (although I do love it from start to finish). I first came to know of Neil on Déjà Vu. My older sister was a few years ahead of me and I took anything she said about music to heart. She turned me on to CSN right about the time Déjà Vu was being released. I went to the record store to get my 8-Track of Crosby, Stills and Nash and the guy tried to talk me into Déjà Vu instead. No, my sister, really liked the first one, so I got that one. Later I did get Déjà Vu. But it was After The Goldrush that really brought Neil home to me. I had read a review of it in my high school newspaper and when I bought it I fell in love immediately. I’d never heard a record so fragile and yet so hard. The voice, the songs, the lyrics. Everything about it amazed me. So I immediately went back and picked up the self-titled first album and Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere.

For most people Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere means three things: “Down By The River,” “Cowgirl In The Sand” and the first album with Crazy Horse. This was the album that announced Neil Young as a real rocker. Sure he’d rocked some with Buffalo Springfield, but the self-titled album was almost a singer-songwriter/folkie effort. This was guitar rock through and through. And while those two previously mentioned songs are indeed all-time Neil Young classics, my favorites have always been “Cinnamon Girl,” “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere” and “The Losing End (When You’re On),” a stone cold country song if there ever was one.

But, like I say, it’s not my favorite Neil Young album. My friend Bill recently took issue with my list of Top 10 All-Time Albums (”You didn’t even get one of them right!”). Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere is in his Top 10. I’ve known Bill for over thirty years. We met in Syracuse in 1976. I remember listening to this album at his house back in those days. So, that got me thinking. What are my favorite Neil Young albums? Well, here are my top ten, in order:

1. Tonight’s The Night
2. After The Gold Rush
3. Harvest
4. Zuma
5. On The Beach
6. American Stars ‘N Bars
7. Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
8. Time Fades Away
9. Rust Never Sleeps
10. Comes A Time 

OK, OK, I know. They’re all from 1969 through 1979. What can I say. Neil’s made some really good albums since then (Ragged Glory, Freedom, Silver & Gold), some really, really bad ones (Landing On Water, Life) and some stuff that just leaves me flat (Are You Passionate?, Mirror Ball, Harvest Moon). And a lot of other stuff that falls somewhere in between. But nothing can touch this run from 1969 to 1979. Nothing even comes close. Sorry.

I had the good fortune to go see Neil at The Ryman Auditorium here in Nashville when Jonathan Demme filmed the shows for what would become the Heart Of Gold movie. I actually got to go both nights and had fabulous seats thanks to a couple of great friends. What a disappointment. It was fantastic to see Neil up close in such a great setting. But the songs. He played all the songs from his forthcoming album, Prairie Wind. It hadn’t been released yet, so I hadn’t heard any of the songs. I was struck at their mediocracy. God, I wanted to like them, but they just weren’t that good. Of course, I bought the album and gave it several listens, but really, these are just not great songs. A lot of people seemed to really like the album and it was once again hailed as a “return to form” (how many times is that now?). Rubbish. Put it next to any of the ten albums above and the best song on Prairie Wind can’t hold a candle to the worst song on any of them.

Neil’s been saying for over 15 years, yes 15 years, that he’s going to release a box set of “archival material.” I read the first announcement in ICE Magazine (rip) over 15 years ago. It was supposed to come out sometime that year. Of course, it never did. Since then rumors pop up every few years. Last year someone even saw a catalog number assigned to it by the record label so the announced September 2007 release date was taken as gospel. It never happened. Recently Neil announced it would be coming out this fall on Blu-Ray discs. Whatever. I don’t believe a word of it anymore. I’ll believe it when I hold it in my hands. Until then, it’s just a rumor. He leaked out the Live At The Fillmore East and Live At Massey Hall in 2006 and 2007 which are both fantastic. Let’s hope the box set lives up to the promise of these two discs. Until then there’s always the fan based release Archives Be Damned, a wonderful 5 disc collection of rarities collected and issued by the fans years ago. And one of the most beautiful bootleg box sets of all time, Rock ‘N’ Roll Cowboy, a four disc collection of live tracks from 1966 to 1994 (issued by Great Dane in 1994) with amazing packaging that puts to shame many of the officially released boxed sets.  And, finally, the fan based release, A Perfect Echo, an eight disc collection of mostly soundboard live recordings form Neil’s entire career. Make no mistake. If the artists don’t put this stuff out the fans will. And quite often they even do a better job.

Other Listens on June 16th:
Diamonds & Rust by Joan Baez
Detours by Sheryl Crow
Exit 0 by Steve Earle
Comin’ Right At Ya by Asleep At The Wheel
Texas Gold by Asleep At The Wheel
The Desert Rose Band by The Desert Rose Band
Eat A Peach (Deluxe Edition) by The Allman Brothers Band 

The Byrds early material has been mined over and over again. It first began with Never Before, a great collection of unreleased outtakes and alternate versions first released in 1989. (Well, I guess it actually began with the original release of Preflyte in 1969, an attempt to capitalize on their mid-60s success.) Since then an amazing amount of unreleased material has seen the light of day including Live At The Fillmore West 1969, four volumes of the Sanctuary series, a 2 disc reissue of Sweetheart Of The Rodeo, two box sets, numerous bonus tracks on the reissues of the catalog and more. What’s really amazing is that all of this stuff is worthwhile, some of it downright fantastic. The Preflyte Sessions is no exception.

You have to keep in mind that this is very early Byrds material, recorded before their first album Mr. Tambourine Man. They were still finding their way, looking for their “sound” and coming together as a band. Even so this material is quite good. The 40 songs spread across two discs provide a clear picture of the band at this point in time. It’s amazing how great a songwriter Gene Clark was even then, writing almost perfect little pop songs (”The Reason Why,” “You Won’t Have To Cry,” “You Movin’,”She Has A Way,” etc.). Clark wrote or co-wrote almost every track on this collection. The two versions of “Mr. Tambourine Man” are quite different than the official version which would be recorded with some studio musicians at a later date. Also of real interest are the four early David Crosby related tracks. Two from the rare Early L.A. album and two unreleased, including a great version of “Get Together.”

Some of the songs are represented with multiple versions and/or takes but it never seems redundant. Almost half of the 40 songs are previously unreleased. The others come from the original Preflyte, Early L.A. and In The Beginning (another collection of early material on Rhino). It’s really great to have all this material together in one place.

McGuinn has turned loose of the tapes to another unreleased live album, Live At Royal Albert Hall 1971, and while this later incarnation of the Byrds is not my favorite I’ve got in on pre-order at amazon.com (put something I want on sale for $9.99 and I’ll almost always buy it). You can’t go wrong with anything that Clarence White is on. 

Other Listens on May 28th:
Jolene by Dolly Parton

I came to Tommy rather late in the game. I don’t know why. Just too many other things got in the way. Who’s Next was always my favorite Who album. I remember listening to it’s debut on FM radio when I was in High School. I was at my girlfriend’s house in Palmdale, California late one night and they played the entire album from start to finish. I connected with it immediately. I’d heard other Who songs and albums, but Who’s Next was the first one I actually bought and listened to over and over. I bought other Who albums over the years, but none of them really stuck with me like Who’s Next.

Of course, I’ve always been familiar with the “hits” from Tommy: “Pinball Wizard, “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” “See Me Feel Me/Listening To You” and the other classic staples of FM radio. But I’d never purchased the LP or CD. I have over 5,000 LPs and even more CDs. It just slipped through the cracks. But I’m a huge fan of the “Deluxe Edition” double CDs that Universal Chronicles puts out. I think I saw this on sale at Amazon awhile back and decided to get it. I’ve been listening to it quite a bit in the last few weeks and it’s really opening up to me. I think I’d always been slightly “put off” by the “concept” aspect of it. Somewhere inside of me, fairly or not, it just seemed if you wrote songs specifically to tell one long story, some of them just weren’t going to be that great, because to a certain extent they were being forced. I love the feel of this music. The texture, the soundscape. Not all of the songs work for me as individual songs, but when I take the whole thing in as one big piece it’s quite amazing. The Who began work on it 40 years ago this fall, but it feels very fresh and alive to me, not dated in the least. I’m enjoying getting to know this album finally.

I must say Disc Two is somewhat of a let down to me and not quite up to what I’ve come to expect from the Deluxe Edition series. The Out-Takes and Demos are not particularly illuminating and don’t really add much to the experience. The Stereo Only Demos are nice, but again, they don’t really add much to the experience. I’d have much rather had a full, unreleased complete live version for the album from that time period.

Other listens on May 23rd:
Did She Mention My Name? by Gordon Lightfoot
Drunk And Crazy…Plus by Bobby Bare
Beautiful Loser by Bob Seger
Your Songs by Elton John