Shelter From The Storm

In 1973 I was very deep into Kris Kristofferson. I had discovered him through his 1971 album The Silver Tongued Devil And I. The following two albums, Jesus Was A Capricorn and Border Lord, both released in 1972, were instant favorites. I also went back and picked up is first, self-titled album (later retitled Me & Bobby McGee to take advantage of the huge success from Janis Joplin’s cover). It was through Kristofferson that I first found Rita Coolidge. You could say I was a little late to the game because Coolidge had been around for some time. She’d been a featured member of Joe Cocker’s magnificent Mad Dogs & Englishmen ensemble and she’d made two fine albums of her own. But it was her third album, the 1972 release The Lady’s Not For Sale that I found first and it was all related to Kristofferson. By this time they were a couple (married in 1973). Their careers became very entwined for several years. They shared a band, they toured together, they appeared on each other’s albums and they recorded three duet albums over the next five years. I was seventeen and attending Loyola University in Los Angeles when they played together at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in 1973. I hitchhiked from school over to Santa Monica (not far, only about six miles) to see the show. I remember my seat wasn’t that great, but I saw some empty seats up pretty close and so after about three or four songs I got up my nerve, walked up and sat down in one of the vacant chairs near the stage. There was a printed invitation on the floor that the previous occupants had left behind. It was one of my first introductions to the jaded excesses of the music business. These people had gotten free tickets, a great seat, a personal invitation to the show and they had left after two or three songs! I couldn’t believe it. It was a great show and I was thoroughly impressed. I saw them play together several times at the Troubador, a much more intimate setting, later that year. They were always great. They’re first debut album, Full Moon, is one of my all-time favorite albums. Unfortunately, it’s never been released on CD. Go figure.

Rita Coolidge is a bit of an anomaly for me. I’m usually drawn to songwriters, artists like Joni Mitchell, Carole King, Shawn Colvin, Rosanne Cash, Trish Murphy, artists who, for the most part, write their own material. It’s not often I find an artist who doesn’t write at all that I like. Linda Ronstadt is the only other notable exception I can think of off hand (well Emmylou Harris as well though she did start writing quite a bit in the last few years), though there may be others. But Coolidge always had a fantastic ear for great songs and many of the songs she recorded were new to me, I wasn’t familiar with other versions. It’s Only Love was her fifth album and it’s probably my favorite. It follows the basic blueprint of her other albums that came before it. Produced by David Anderle (he’d produced her first four albums as well), it’s an excellent collection of ten great songs. “Born To Love Me” and the title track are perfect vehicles for Coolidge’s pure, smooth, sultry, naturally romantic vocals. She has such a wonderful, unique voice that seems tailor made for love songs. Written by little known Nashville songwriter Bob Morrison (I’m guessing there was a Kristofferson connection in there as he was signed to Monument Records) they are also an example of Coolidge’s knack for finding great material that others missed. Matter of fact every song on this album is a love song. There’s one from Kristofferson (”Late Again”), one from the great southern team of Donnie Fritts (a Kristofferson sideman for many, many years) and Eddie Hinton (”Don’t Let Love Pass You By”) and a fantastic version of the Donna Weiss classic “Star.” Coolidge and Anderle take a decidedly interesting sidestep for the last two songs on the album. “Mean To Me” and “Am I Blue” are two classic jazz songs featured in a full, flat out late night jazz session setting. It’s not really my cup of tea, but I think they work very well for what they are.

Coolidge would finally find that elusive hit and huge commercial success with her next album, Anytime…Anywhere. A Top 10 album with three hit singles it also marked a noticeable turn towards a slicker, more pop orientated sound that I never found quite as appealing as her earlier earthy, country/folk flavored albums.

It’s criminal that NONE of Rita Coolidge’s early albums are available on CD. I think the first three were released on CD in Japan at some point, but they were always impossible to find and now fetch over $100 each on Amazon.com. There’s a fine two disc collection titled Delta Lady: The Rita Coolidge Anthology but it’s just ludicrous that her catalog has been so completely ignored in these days of endless remasters and reissues. The Australian reissue label Raven has just released a two-fer containing Anytime…Anywhere and Love Me Again, which is a start. Granted, those two records were probably her most commercially successful so maybe it makes sense, but they were far from her best. We can only hope that someone, somewhere will finally see the light and make an effort to get her first five albums out on CD sometime soon.

Other Listens on August 9th:
Tomorrow The World by The Shazam
Millionaire by Kevin Welch
The Historical Conquests Of Josh Ritter
Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash by Michael Nesmith
Why The Hell Not… The Songs Of Kinky Friedman by Various Artists
Taking The Long Way by The Dixie Chicks

While living in Syracuse, NY in 1976 I made an attempt to get a stint as a DJ at the university radio station. I didn’t get too far. Everything was going pretty well until the music director, a rather holier than though sort, asked me to write up a sample playlist of what I would like to play on a two hour show, should I be given the opportunity to try out. I dutifully put together a list of new, old and classic songs that I thought would make a great show. He took one look at it and said to me incredibly: “You would actually play Johnny Cash on this radio station?” I was listening a lot to Cash’s 1974 release John R. Cash and I think I had included either “Cocaine Carolina” or “My Old Kentucky Home” from that album. Things went downhill from there and I never got a chance to spin any records for the kids at Syracuse University. You have to remember this was 1976 and real country music was still regarded as hillbilly hogwash by many college students. How ironic that almost twenty years later, with the release of  American Recordings, Cash would be celebrated as a musical godfather and hero at many college campuses across the land.

The Man Comes around was the last album of “new” material that Cash released while he was alive (American V was released several years after his death). It continued his fruitful and productive collaboration with Rick Rubin and while it didn’t break any new ground (sticking mainly to the same style they had mined so well on the first three albums of the “American” series) it was different in one way. Cash’s voice was clearly deteriorating. Well, while deteriorating is technically the correct word to describe the process, it’s not really the right one. There’s a certain amount of negativity associated with the word “deteriorating” and the truth of the matter is that while Cash’s voice indisputably lacks the strength and vigor it once had, it’s still an amazing instrument. The key here is the material. When Cash’s ragged, frayed, almost worn out voice connects with the right kind of song it’s almost transcendent. All of the years, all of the history, all of the life, all of the good times and bad times, all of the joy and desperation, all of the hard worn knowledge and tears bleed through that voice into each word. And that happens more times on this album than we have any right to expect. However, for every mini-masterpiece there is a misfire that simply doesn’t work. It all comes down to the song.

 The album kicks off on an outstandingly strong note with three back to back songs that work so well together it’s downright magical. First comes the title song, a Cash original, and one of the best songs he ever wrote. The mystical lyrics, the driving beat, the strong melody with a great, classic hook all suit Cash’s voice perfectly. It’s an amazing performance, one of my very favorites of his later years. It’s followed by what is probably the most well known song from this period of his career, Trent Reznor’s “Hurt.” Again, it’s absolutely astonishing how well Cash inhabits this song and how well the production and the lyrics fit his voice. The accompanying video helped this song reach an audience that ten or twenty years earlier would have scoffed at the idea of Johnny Cash being relevant. Then it’s back to the roots with an acoustic reworking of his classic song from his early Sun Records days, “Give My Love To Rose.” And once again, it’s exactly the kind of song that actually benefits from the raw state of Cash’s voice at this point in time.

But, unfortunately, the magic doesn’t last. A pointless reading of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” follows that just makes no sense. To start with this is one of those songs that probably no one should ever attempt to cover. The original is such a masterpiece, such a one of a kind piece of music, that to bring anything new, distinct and original to it seems almost impossible. Perhaps the song had some sentimental value to Cash. I can’t even begin to guess why they chose to include this, but it’s simply not very good. And that’s the pattern we find throughout this album. Songs like “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” The Beatles classic “In My Life,” the Eagles masterpiece “Desperado” and the old war horse “Danny Boy,” songs that border dangerously close to sentimental, out of place souvenirs, sit right alongside magnificent, almost transcendent songs like “The Man Comes Around,” “Hurt” and ”I Hung My Head.” It’s really as if we have two separate albums here, one a near masterpiece and one that could be described as Cash’s Self Portrait (the universally panned Dylan album from 1970).

Sting’s “I Hung My Head” is another classic reading from Cash where he quite simply just “owns” the song. Another example of exactly the right kind of material that perfectly suits his voice. Cash has always been one of the best storytellers popular music has ever seen and here he turns Sting’s lyrics into a glorious, almost semi-religious sepia-toned virtual movie that continues to play inside your head whether you want it to or not. The rest of the album never quite lives up to the true gems I’ve described above, but the songs and the performances are all solid and strong. “Sam Hall” gives us a quick look into the trademark fire and passion that Cash once threw into his singing with little or no effort whatsoever. “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” which looks so good on paper (and it’s even a duet with Nick Cave), never quite comes together for some reason. “Personal Jesus,” “Streets Of Laredo” and “We’ll Meet Again” round out the collection.

I saw Cash perform live at a tribute concert in New York in 1999, a couple of years before this album was released. We had great seats (third row) and I was astonished at how bad he looked up close. I really thought he couldn’t be more than a few months away from death. He managed to hang on a few more years and I’m glad he did. He left an incredible legacy of music. American IV: The Man Comes Around is certainly nowhere near the top of his best work, but it’s an admirable effort from a man who never quit, who never gave up, who was writing and recording to the very end. And the songs that do work on this album are first rate, they’ll find a home in my iTunes Johnny Cash playlist.

Other Listens on August 8th:
The Very Best Of Deep Purple 
Life Death Love And Freedom by John Mellencamp
Greatest Hits by Billy Joe Shaver
Rides Again by James Gang
Quicksilver Messenger Service by Quicksilver Messenger Service
Santana by Santana

For me it started with Elvis Costello and his single “Alison” b/w “Welcome To The Working Week.” It was actually Costello’s second single (”Less Than Zero” b/w “Radio Sweetheart” being the first), but it was the one I stumbled on initially. From there I quickly discovered the first Nick Lowe single (”So It Goes” b/w “Heart Of The City”) since he had produced both of Elvis’ singles. And that led to Dave Edmunds. Edmunds and Lowe formed a band called Rockpile (with Billy Bremner and Terry Williams) in 1976. However, they didn’t release an official Rockpile album until 1980 (Seconds Of Pleasure) because they were signed to different labels (Lowe to Columbia and Edmunds to Swan Song). But between 1976 and 1980 they each released several solo albums that were, for all practical purposes, Rockpile albums. Edmunds released three classic albums in the late seventies, all of which featured Rockpile: Get It (1977), Tracks On Wax (1978) and Repeat When Necessary (1979). Lowe and Edmunds were perfect collaborators. Both were respected producers, both were masters of the two to three minute pop/rock song and both shared a love for The Everly Brothers. The major difference between the two (other than their uniquely individual approaches to music) was that Edmunds was not really a songwriter. He wrote and/or co-wrote a few songs here and there, but he was primarily an interpreter of other writer’s material, including Costello (”Girls Talk”), Graham Parker (”Crawling From The Wreckage”), Lowe (”I Knew The Bride”) and many others. Edmunds also brought a much more country perspective to the pub/roots rock he played and recorded. Songs like “Worn Out Suits, Brand New Pockets, “Queen Of Hearts,” “Home In My Hand” and “Sweet Little Lisa” are country through and through, though obviously filtered through Edmunds’ singular Welsh appreciation for the distinctive American music he clearly loved. He does a rave up version of Hank Williams’ “Hey Good Lookin’” on Get It.

I don’t know a whole lot about Paul Kennerley. I first became aware of him through two “concept” albums he put together and produced in the late seventies, White Mansions and The Legend Of Jesse James. An English songwriter, musician and producer indisputably enamored with the American west, he later married Emmylou Harris and collaborated with her on several albums including The Ballad Of Sally Rose and Thirteen. Several years ago a friend of mine mentioned that Kennerley had a small five song CD out titled Misery With A Beat. I tracked down a copy and was just floored. Kennerley wrote all five of the songs on the album, played guitar, sang, produced, etc. A crackerjack band was on hand which included Richard Bennett, Harry Stinson and… Billy Bremner! It’s a terrific little disc, and to me at least, it picks right up where Dave Edmunds and Rockpile left off more than twenty years ago. Kennerley is a first-rate songwriter and I don’t think I’m the only one who hears a huge Edmunds influence on in both his songs and his production, especially on this EP.

So, imagine my delight when I got a copy of the second album by the Nashville (by way of Georgia) husband and wife country duo, The Wrights (Adam and Shannon), and saw that Paul Kennerley had co-written three of the songs on the album and produced two of them. The Wrights released a superb debut album on RCA in 2005 (Down This Road) featuring twelve original songs (and a guest appearance by Adam’s uncle Alan Jackson). Gifted songwriters, the two attracted a lot of attention with their beautiful harmonies and powerful performances. Shannon, especially, is an extraordinary vocalist and singer. The album didn’t make much of a dent in the Nashville country market so the two young artists set out on their own and released The Wrights in 2007. I really liked Down This Road, but The Wrights was something else entirely. Seemingly freed from the shackles of major label confines the two created what I think is the best country album to be released in years. It’s hands down my favorite album (of any genre) in 2007.

The Wrights leads off with “Rewind,” a song written by Shawn Camp and Billy Burnette, two outstanding songwriters and performers in their own right. It’s a slow, but driving ballad, featuring Shannon and Adam working together to create a shimmering, almost luminous opus of exquisite vocals and harmony vocals. Most of their songs, on both this album and the first, are love songs in one way or another. Lost love. Love in vain. Good love. Bad love. Unrequited love. Faithless love. You get the picture. ”Do You Still” features Adam and Shannon trading lead vocals on alternate verses (as they often do and to great effect) and then coming in together on the choruses. It’s a catchy piece of straight ahead country twang. “Home Sweet Highway,” a rocking little number featuring Adam on lead vocals, is the only non “love” song on the album, though in its own way, it’s really still a love song, just to the highway, not a lover.

Throughout the album Adam and Shannon never cease to amaze me with their vocal skills. They sing so well together you’d almost think they were brother and sister instead of husband and wife. They have that connection that you find with many siblings. Keith Stegall does an excellent job producing, always finding the perfect instrumental showcase for the songs and the voices. Over the course of only eight songs (it’s not quite an album, but not quite an EP either) Stegall and The Wrights are able to establish a tone and a spirit that makes this music just plain shimmer. Along the way they also cover an outstanding Alan Jackson song (”True Love Is A Golden Ring”), a song I don’t think he’s even recorded himself (though I could be wrong). There’s a lot of “twang” here, but not the kind you usually associate with country music. They have their own unique sound, their own special way of doing things, and once again, I hear that Edmunds influence quite clearly.

The last two songs are marked “Bonus Tracks” and these are the two co-written with and produced by Paul Kennerley: “You’re The Kind Of Trouble” and “You Were Made For Me.” “You’re The Kind Of Trouble” was covered by Solomon Burke on his 2003 Buddy Miller produced Nashville album. Both songs are perfect examples of the kind of “clever” songwriting Kennerley and The Wrights excel at.

I don’t know where The Wrights go from here. It’s hard getting noticed these days in Nashville. They’ve made two terrific albums, but are still flying just under the radar. They could probably make a living on songwriting alone, but that would be a shame because they really do make great albums. Here’s hoping they have a long and productive career together and that the songs and the discs keep coming.

Other Listens on July 12th:
Writer by Carole King
Flashes Of Fire: Hoyt’s Very Best 1962-1990 by Hoyt Axton
Boz Scaggs & Band by Boz Scaggs
Back Here On Earth by Gordon Lightfoot
The Joshua Tree (Deluxe Edition) by U2 

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 

I think I first got into Hank Williams, Jr. through his 1980 album Habits Old And New. Somehow I picked up a copy somewhere (probably got it free as a promo since I was working in a record store around that time and it’s not something I would have bought at the time). I listened to it at some point and was pleasantly surprised. I’d only heard Hank Williams, Jr. through the odd country hit here and there that I might have come across while listening to a country radio station (which wasn’t very often) and I’d never been too impressed. But songs like “Old Habits,” “Dinosaur,” “All In Alabama” and “If You Don’t Like Hank Williams” were right up my alley. I played the album quite a bit back in those days. But that was as far as I went when it came to Hank Williams, Jr. I never picked up any more of his albums or listened to the couple of others that I had in my collection. I guess it should be noted I have a LOT of albums and CDs that I have never listened to. I try to make my way around to everything eventually, but I realized a long time ago I was never going to be able to listen to them all and the older I get the more particular I get about what I’m listening to.

A few months ago I was in Best Buy, just browsing through the racks, and I came across a copy of his CD Whiskey Bent And Hell Bound (1979) for $5.99. Hell, I’ll try almost anything for $5.99, so I picked it up. A great, rocking country album with quite a few gems on it. I noticed on the packaging it was part of a series, “Original Classic Hits - Volume 4″ it said. It looked like the label was repackaging a bunch of albums as part of a series. So, I checked on Amazon.com and sure enough, all these CDs were priced at $5.99. So I picked up a few more including The New South (1977) and this one, Hank Williams, Jr. & Friends (1976). So, now I’m listening to a bunch of 30 year old Hank Williams, Jr. albums on a regular basis. Of the four I mention here, Hank Williams, Jr. & Friends is probably my least favorite. It’s an enjoyable album, but I just like the others better. I don’t think the songs are as strong on this one. However, I think I’m in the minority here, as it seems that this is generally regarded as one of his all time best albums, based on reviews at Amazon.com and allmusic.com. Maybe it will grow on me more with time.

As I understand it, this album was Hank’s break with the past, the first time he really struck out on his own, going his own way, singing his own songs (with a couple of covers as well) playing with the musicians he wanted to play with. The “& Friends” include Charlie Daniels, Toy Caldwell (from The Mashall Tucker Band) and Chuck Leavell (from The Allman Brothers Band). He covers two of Caldwell’s better known songs, “Losin’ You” and “Can’t You See” that really don’t work very well for me. He doesn’t bring anything new to the songs and I’m left just wanting to hear the originals. However, “Stoned At The Jukebox” and “(The) Living Proof” are classics which I’d gladly add to an iTunes playlist.

It’s hard to complain when the price is $5.99 but it should be pointed out that the sound on this disc is pretty poor. Everything is very flat and dull. It certainly hasn’t been remastered. And the artwork. Sheesh. The original LP artwork was pretty poor, but it’s a lot better than what they came up with for the CD reissue. And, of course, it’s just a 2 sided insert. Some basic credits and that’s it. But, again, at $5.99 I can’t complain too much. Though I’d probably shell out $9.99 for a nice reissue with great sound, a booklet with an essay and photos, etc. Doubt that will ever be happen, but who knows.

Other Listens on June 9th:
The Very Best Of Sheryl Crow 
In The Summertime by The Wrights
Live 1964 Concert At Philharmonic Hall by Bob Dylan 
Back To Earth by Cat Stevens 

I met Willie Nelson one time. It was a big deal to me back then. It was backstage at the old Austin Opry Austin at a Steve Goodman concert in 1977. I was working at Zebra Records, a long gone record store in Austin. From Willie To Lefty had just been released and I told him we were doing really well with it. Willie was certainly a star at this point (especially in Austin) but nowhere near the icon he is today. He was nice enough, but, of course, I was just one more faceless person to meet and shake hands with. There were probably dozens of similar situations every day for him. It might have meant something to me, but it certainly didn’t mean anything to him. Over the years, as I had more and more opportunities to meet some of my musical heroes, I began to realize what a strange and pointless activity it was. It lost its magic rather quickly. In fact, I actually went out of my way sometimes to avoid meeting them.

One Hell Of A Ride is the latest Willie Nelson box set. There are several others. This one is being marketed as the first one to feature tracks from every stage of his career, from 1954 to 2007. Now, all and all, I’m a big fan of box sets. I have way too many. But this one, for me at least, is pretty superfluous. I guess it would be a great package for someone who wanted an introduction to Willie’s music, or who had only a few albums. But face it, when you try pack 53 years of music into 4 discs (100 songs) you’re going to have to make a lot of decisions about what should be included and what shouldn’t. I mean, that’s not even two songs per year, and for someone who’s released at least 92 albums in that time we’re talking about one song per album. So the process of choosing the songs for a collection like this is going to be pretty selective and certainly open to debate. I mean 4 tracks from 1993’s Across The Borderline and only 1 from Willie’s breakthrough release Redheaded Stranger? Come on.  Willie has made a lot (and I mean a lot) of great music in the last 53 years, but there’s been quite a bit of filler as well. I mean how could there not be with 92+ albums? There are a lot of great tracks on this box set, no doubt about that. But there are a lot of questionable inclusions as well. But that’s the nature of a project like this.

Now, if you want a great box set of Willie Nelson music pick up The Complete Atlantic Sessions (3 discs). Willie only made two albums for Atlantic, Shotgun Willie (1973) and Phases And Stages (1974), but both are among his very best work. Classic country albums. The box set includes tons of unreleased tracks, including an entire alternate version of Phases And Stages, as well as a live third disc recorded in June 1974 at the Texas Opry House in Austin. 11 of the 16 tracks were previously released on the The Classic, Unreleased Collection box set. But the other 5 are previously unreleased.

One more thing: This new box set features the covers of the 92 albums I mentioned above. It’s astounding how awful most of these covers are. I mean awful. When you see them all together it’s just fascinating. For a guy that makes such great music his albums have rarely been represented well with good cover art. For every decent album cover (Teatro, Spirit, Red Headed Stranger, Phases And Stages) there are at least a half a dozen horrible ones (Always On My Mind, Angel Eyes, Island In The Sea, Clean Shirt and, maybe the worst, Rainbow Connection).

Added June 18th, 2008: I bought my copy of this at Best Buy, and it came with a Bonus DVD. I don’t know if all copies contain the Bonus DVD or if it was a Best Buy “exclusive.” I finally got around to watching it today and it’s a nice little six song excerpt of Willie’s performance on the PBS Sessions At West 54th. To the best of my knowledge this has never been released commercially, so it’s nice to have. Sessions At West 54th was a live series, similar to Austin City Limits or Soundstage, but in a very small, intimate environment. More like Unplugged I guess. I think this was taped in 2000 and Willie and the band are in typically fine shape. Shelby Lynne guests on a couple of songs. 

Other Listens on June 1st:
After Bathing At Baxters by Jefferson Airplane
Where I’m Bound by Bob Gibson 
Early Tracks by Steve Earle 

Living in Nashville I had of course heard of Little Big Town. They put out a self-titled album on Monument in 2002 which went nowhere. But then they struck gold (and platinum) and had amazing success with their second album (The Road To Here), and on an independent label (Equity Music Group) no less.  That’s not an easy thing to do in Nashville, though times do seem to be changing. I have never heard The Road To Here, but I saw the band on the CMT show Crossroads with Lindsey Buckingham. Crossroads is a show that pairs up a “country” artist with a “rock” artist (for the most part): Bon Jovi and Sugarland, John Fogerty and Keith Urban, Sheryl Crow and Willie Nelson, etc. And I gotta say, these guys were rocking, especially on the Fleetwood Mac songs they did with Lindsey. In what universe this band would be considered a country band, I don’t know. Oh, this one I guess. So, anyway, I saw this record on sale at Best Buy for $8 and decided to give it a try.

Like I say, to me this is much more of a pop album than a country album, and a pretty good one at that. The Fleetwood Mac influences and comparisons are very obvious and front and center. I do find it very interesting that they are much more of vocal group than a real band. The two guys play acoustic guitar on only one track and one of the women plays tambourine on two tracks. Other than that it’s all studio and session players. And damn good ones at that. The production and musicianship on this are first rate. Wayne Kirkpatrick does a bang up job producing their music, getting the sound (and especially the vocals and harmonies) just right. This sounds great turned up real loud. They do, at least, write their own songs, having penned all but two.  ”Fine Line,” “That’s Where I’ll Be” and “I’m With The Band” are my favorite tracks.

I haven’t spent enough time with this album yet to really say much more on how I feel about it (this is just my third listen). I like it a lot so far though and will keep it in my “current favorites,” give it some more spins and let the music sink in. Maybe I’ll even go back and pick up their last CD.

My friend Torne White did the artwork for this CD and my friend Phil Madeira plays B3 on it. It’s also interesting to note that in April it was announced that the band was signing with Capitol and taking both their Equity records with them. This can’t be a good sign for Equity Music Group as this group and these two albums were by far their biggest successes, though A Place To Land doesn’t seem to be selling anywhere near as well as The Road To Here. I don’t think it’s even gone Gold yet.

Other Listens on May 29th:
My Tennessee Mountain Home by Dolly Parton
Innervisions by Stevie Wonder
Morrison Hotel by The Doors
Book Of Dreams by The Steve Miller Band
Young Brigham by Ramblin’ Jack Elliott