Shelter From The Storm

I used to frequent a record store in San Marcos, Texas called Sundance Records. I’d make a point of stopping by almost every day. The folks who owned and ran the store became friends, as did the clerks who worked there. I’d always head first for a little bin next to the cash register where they’d place used “new arrivals,” a great place to get cheap CDs. Many of these were often “promo” CDs. For those that might not know, the record labels sound out hundreds, if not thousands of “promotional” CDs on any given title to music writers, radio stations, tour promoters and assorted friends and riffraff. The vast majority of these end up in used record stores. You can’t blame the recipients. Writers in particular often get way more CDs than they can ever listen to or review. They might as well sell the stuff that is of no interest to them. The record labels frown on the practice (of course) but there’s really not much they can do about it. They will usually punch a hole in the bar code or stamp the booklet with “Promotional Copy” to at least make sure the CDs don’t end up getting returned to them as defective units. Truth be told there’s a lot of record label employees who sell stuff on the side to used record stores for a little extra cash. I’d often buy new and interesting looking things from this bin that I didn’t know much about, just because the price was right. For $5.99 or $6.99 I’d take a chance on a lot of stuff. One of the CDs I bought in 1993 was Tuesday Night Music Club by Sheryl Crow. Didn’t know a thing about her but I’ve always had a soft spot for female artists (be they rock, folk, country or whatever). One listen and I knew I’d found something special. With ”Run, Baby, Run,” “Strong Enough,” “I Shall Believe,” and of course “Leaving Las Vegas” and “All I Wanna Do,” this was a phenomenal debut from a very promising artist. Her label A&M obviously believed in Crow as well, as they they worked this album for almost a year before it finally paid off when the third single from the album, “All I Wanna Do,” made it to Number 2 on the charts in the summer of 1994. The first two singles had not made much of an impression on the record buying public and one can only wonder what would have become of Crow if the “All I Wanna Do” had also failed to chart. 

I’ve followed Crow’s career carefully over the past 15 years. There have certainly been ups and downs but she’s managed to put together an incredible body of work over the course of just five albums. Sheryl Crow, The Globe Sessions and especially 2002’s C’mon, C’mon are real favorites that I come back to frequently. “Soak Up The Sun” is one of my very favorite all-time pop songs. The only real disappoint in her catalog is 2005’s Wildflower, an uncharacteristically lifeless and bland affair. Fair or not, I guess we can blame it on the “too happy to make a good record” syndrome. As Bob Dylan once said, “Pain sure brings out the best in people, doesn’t it?”

Detours is a marvelous return to form. The songs are some of the best she’s written in years. But what most people will probably site as the key ingredient here is the return of Bill Bottrell who had produced Tuesday Night Music Club. Apparently Crow and Bottrell had a big falling out not long after Tuesday Night Music Club became a smash success (he called Crow “hopeless” and “obnoxious” in a 1996 Rolling Stone cover story on her). He was originally slated to produce her follow up album but pulled out before recording began. A masterful producer, Bottrell has been on board for several classic releases in recent years, including Shelby Lynne’s I Am Shelby Lynne. It seems he and Crow remained estranged for quite a long time until Crow called him up and asked him to work with her on this new album. We can all be quite thankful that they buried the hatchet because the music they have once again made together accounts for a truly splendid album, something I wasn’t expecting after Wildflowers.

Crow has always been a passionate songwriter, well schooled in the Joni Mitchell/James Taylor/Carole King mold of “confessional” songwriting. Detours is no different. The songs here are direct, poignant and very personal. There are four distinct themes running through this album: her recent bout with breast cancer, her adoption of a son, Wyatt, in 2007, her very public relationship and breakup with Lance Armstrong and, surprisingly, current political events. Crow has never been known as a “political” songwriter, though she did make the news in 2007 when she headlined a Stop Global Warming College Tour and when she and co-partner in crime Laurie David got into a bit of a tiff with Bush adviser Karl Rove. It’s a bit of a surprise (though quite welcome indeed) to find three overtly political songs on this album. “God Bless This Mess,” with it’s single acoustic guitar and Crow’s compressed vocal, sounds like it’s coming straight out of a cheap AM radio. A poignant “state of the union address” written from the perspective of an ordinary, average American, it set’s the mood immediately. “Peace Be Upon Us,” with it’s Arabic lyrics is a moving, modern day version of “Give Peace A Chance” while “Gasoline” is a wicked, remarkably infectious tongue-in-cheek rave-up about the politics of oil. ”Love Is Free” and “Out Of Our Heads” are pure, classic Sheryl Crow, easily the two catchiest things she’s done since “Soak Up The Sun,” though the pop melody of “Out Of Our Heads” belies the political sentiments underneath. The acoustic based “Detours” and and the damning “Diamond Ring” are obvious reflections on her relationship with Armstrong. “Make It Go Away (Radiation Song)” is a harrowing look at her brush with cancer. The album comes full circle with “Lullaby For Wyatt” a beautiful declaration of unconditional love for a new child. It may all be a colossal mess, as she asserts at the beginning of the record, but in the end, it all comes back to one basic, simple thing that keeps us all from throwing our hands up in futile despair: love.

Other Listens on August 16th:
Tomorrow The Wold by The Shazam
Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show by Neil Diamond
To The Bone by Kris Kristofferson
Life Death Love And Freedom by John Mellencamp

When I moved to Austin in September 1976 Austin City Limits was just getting started. They had filmed a pilot with Willie Nelson in November 1974 hoping to sell the show to PBS. The show aired on about three dozen stations in the spring of 1975, during the semi-annual membership and fund-raising pledge drive. A deal was struck and in late summer taping began for a thirteen episode first year to be broadcast in 1976. Season one was a very “progressive Texas music” affair with regional artists like Rusty Wier, Doug Sahm, Alvin Crow, Marcia Ball, Jerry Jeff Walker and Asleep At The Wheel. The second season, taped in late 1976 and broadcast in 1977 wasn’t much different (though these days it’s an entirely different scene with big name international acts booked quite frequently). I attended the taping of the first show that season, Tracy Nelson and Willie Nelson. I was able to get tickets for several more, including Gove / The Amazing Rhythm Aces and The Earl Scruggs Revue. Tickets weren’t real hard to come by, but you had to work to get them. The local NPR radio station would announce when tickets would be available, people would line up at the studios and wait and if you weren’t too far back in line you’d get some. It was a strictly first come, first served basis. It was rare that tickets for any show weren’t snapped up immediately. However, I do remember one show in 1989. It was Halloween evening and a rare snow storm had hit Austin. Now, it doesn’t take too much snow to shut down a city like Austin. You get an inch or two and everybody closes up shop. Leonard Cohen was taping an Austin City Limits show that night. Tickets were very hard to come by, as Austin is a big Cohen town. But the weather was messing everything up. I was listening to the radio that afternoon and they made a plea: even if you don’t have tickets please try to come down to the KLRU studios (where ACL is taped) to see Leonard Cohen. They wanted to have a full house (it always looks better on TV if there’s a big crowd) and they were afraid the weather was going to keep people away. My girlfriend and I rushed over as quick as we could, made it in, and got to see an incredible performance by Cohen and his band.

Watching an Austin City Limits taping can have it’s ups and downs. On the one hand it’s a very small soundstage so no matter where you’re sitting you’ll have great seats. On the other hand the sound in the actual room is often not that good, as they’re a lot more concerned about the recording itself, not the room sound. And, because it’s a television taping there can sometimes be odd stops and starts while they change tape, fix problems, etc. It can affect the flow and the energy of a live performance. Some artists can handle it better than others. But some of the shows I saw there over the years were just plain terrific. For many, many years I wondered why none of the great music made for Austin City Limits was available on LP or CD. There was an occasional release here and there: a collection of country or blues artists. A few bands liked their performances well enough to work out a deal to release it as an album. Bootleg audio and video recordings of just about every show circulated among collectors for years. I used to try and tape the shows I was interested in and have a small collection. Everything changed in 2004 when ACL struck a deal with the California based New West Records and the floodgates began to open (though not quite as fast, deep or wide as one might hope). Still, it’s a beginning.

I have most of the CDs and DVDs that have been released in the Live From Austin TX series. There are about two dozen CDs and the same amount of DVDs at this point I think. Some performances are available in both formats and some in just one or the other. My favorite of all that I have is the John Hiatt performance from 1993 (it’s available in both formats). I’ve been a Hiatt fan for a long time, well before his big breakthrough album Bring The Family in 1987, which, believe it or not, was his eighth album (and his fourth label). He’s an outstanding live performer, but there’s only been one official live album, 1994’s Hiatt Comes Alive At Budokan? which I never really listened to much. There’s also an “unofficial” live album from 1993, Live At The Hiatt, that was released only through his fan club which I also have. Again, it was fine, but it didn’t really seem to capture the live experience very well. So, I wasn’t expecting a lot when I threw on the Austin City Limits show to give it a listen. Boy, was I surprised. This show is red hot from start to finish. Hiatt, and especially his band, are in excellent form. Hiatt seems especially energized and the set list is top notch. Hiatt is, of course, a phenomenal songwriter, but even he has a few duds here and there. I can honestly say that every song from this show is one of his best.

Recorded as Hiatt was touring to promote his Perfectly Good Guitar album, the show opens with “Icy Blue Heart,” a fantastic slow acoustic ballad from the Slow Turning album. But things kick into a much faster gear immediately after with “Loving A Hurricane,” “Your Dad Did” and the classic “Memphis In The Meantime.” Three of my favorite all-time John Hiatt songs are included: “Buffalo River Home,” “Tennesse Plates” and “Perfectly Good Guitar.” There are numerous other highlights, including a splendid version of “Angel” and a graceful performance of “Have A Little Faith In Me.” Hiatt let’s his rambunctious side loose throughout these raucous performances. He had a terrific young band in tow for this tour, The Guilty Dogs, featuring Michael Ward (from School Of Fish) on guitar, Micahel Urbano on drums and Davey Faragher on bass (the same band appears on Hiatt Comes Alive At Budokan?). I think the main reason this ACL album sounds so much better to me is because it’s one continuous performance and the rhythm, flow and energy make the disc something special. Hiatt Comes Alive At Boudokan? is a mixed affair drawn from almost a dozen different venues and performances the next spring. With almost every song coming from a different night it just sounds disjointed. The ACL show is something entirely different and you can hear, feel (and see) Hiatt and band as they build towards a fabulous crescendo.

As I said earlier I’m happy to see any of the ACL archives released officially. I just wish they would go back a little further and start releasing more of the shows from the late 70s. And there are some incredible “group” shows like the “Songwriters’ Special” from 1980, the “West Texas Songwriters’ Special” from 1982 and the “Songwriters’ Special” from 1986 that I would dearly love to see released. With over 30 years now, we’re talking about well over 300 different performances. I know they can’t release them all, and I know my favorites might not be the most “commercially” viable. But, hey a guy can always dream, right?

Other Listens on July 15th:
Jesse Winchester by Jesse Winchester

I had a lot of misgivings about this album. I didn’t buy it for almost a year after it was released. And the only reason I finally picked it up then was because Circuit City was having a storewide sale on CDs and it was one of the only things I could find that I was even remotely interested in (and I had to buy something!). My misgivings were for two reasons: on the one hand, though I consider myself a big, big Patti Smith fan (see my post about Horses), I am not been particularly fond of the four albums she’s made since 1996 (Gone Again, Peace And Noise, Gung Ho and Trampin’); and on the other hand I am always slightly suspicious of “cover” albums. It’s rare that an artist can really pull it off. Covers can be the greatest things in the world. There’s nothing like hearing a new version of a song that breathes new life into it or simply takes it to a place that the original didn’t. But they can also be the worst things in the world. There’s nothing as bad as a limp cover version that brings absolutely nothing new to the table and only makes you long to hear the original. (See my post about Shelby Lynne’s recent cover album of Dusty Springfield songs). Now, most artists can come up with a killer cover given the opportunity. A lot of it has to do with finding a song that fits them, one that they can “interpret” instead of just remake. One that suits their personality, their unique approach to music. But a whole album of covers? That’s much harder to do. There are, of course, famous examples that have succeeded mightily: Bowie’s Pin Ups, The Band’s Moondog Mantinee and Lennon’s Rock ‘n’ Roll. I found Shawn Colvin’s Cover Girl to be truly inspired, due in part to her dramatic reworkings of songs that you would think just couldn’t be done in a “folk” setting (like The Talking Heads’ “This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)”). But those are the exceptions, rather than the rule. While Rod Stewart’s recent excursions into the “great American songbook” seems to have revitalized his sagging career and opened up a new avenue and audience for him, I find them almost unlistenable. Nanci Griffith’s admirable, but overly indulgent and way too high and mighty, self-important excursions on Other Voices, Other Rooms reveal how even the best intentions can miss the mark. My fear was that Patti Smith might be biting off more than she could chew.

Of course, let’s not forget that Patti’s magnificent, radiant, groundbreaking debut album Horses (see my post on that album) began with and was in some ways centered around a “cover,” her version (embellished as it was) of “Gloria.” And she also did a bang up, full out punk live rave of The Who’s “My Generation” as the B-Side of her first single. She included a stellar version of The Byrds’ “So You Want To Be (A Rock And Roll Star)” on her 1979 Wave album (it was even a minor hit). So, Patti is no stranger to covers and she’s usually pulled them off pretty well. Still, I was skeptical. It turns out my fears were not unfounded. Twelve is a very mixed bag. It’s mostly, as I suspected, due to the choice of material. But I think it’s more than that. Patti and the band seem to approach some of these songs with just way too much reverence and they seem to have a hard time making them their own. 

The album starts out on a promising note with a slow, semi-acoustic, almost mystical version of the Jimi Hendrix song “Are You Experienced.” Patti can be heard with some trademark spoken word recitals in the background and the track features an exceptional performance on the cello by Giovanni Sollima. But the following track, Tears For Fears’ “Everybody Wants To Rule The World,” is just plain wrong. Patti and the band are unable to come up with anything that can touch the gleaming pop of the original and it just doesn’t work. That’s pretty much the case throughout the album. Some of the songs work but many of them don’t. Covering classic songs like “White Rabbit,” “Gimme Shelter,” “Midnight Rider,” “Helpless” and “The Boy In The Bubble” is a dangerous undertaking, and one, I’m sorry to say, that Smith and company just can’t pull off here. Instead of “owning” the songs, finding something new in them and giving us a version like we’ve never heard before, they end up simply mirroring the originals for the most part. When Patti tackles a song that she can inhabit it works very well. She can be one of the most passionate singers on the planet and when that fire shines through it all comes together. But too many of these songs just fall flat, they have no purpose. It’s like Patti and the band are museum curators and it’s their job to record these songs for preservation purposes. In many cases the spirit, emotion, passion and energy of the original versions seems to be completely stripped away and there’s nothing new to replace it (the Beatles’ song “Within You Without You” and Neil Young’s “Helpless” are perfect examples of this).

Probably my biggest disappointment here is Smith’s version of “Changing Of The Guards” a little known Bob Dylan song from his vastly underrated Street Legal album. I was thrilled to see this listed as one of the songs but she just can’t connect with the song. The band plods along with a noticeable lack of energy and Patti just seems bored, reading the lyrics an autopilot with a noticeable lack of passion. In Dylan’s hands this is a truly hypnotic, mystic, almost transcendent piece of music. She takes it much too seriously and everything about the song seems lackluster. If she had approached this the way she dove headfirst into “Gloria” all those years ago it might have really been something special.

Still, there are a few other songs that work, most noticeably The Doors “Soul Kitchen” and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” “Soul Kitchen” works, in part I think, because it’s the kind of song that fits Smith. If you’d never heard the Doors version you could easily mistake it for a song of her own. She manages to infuse the track with some new life and her vocals finally exhibit some fire and ardor. But the song that works the best on the entire album is “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” taken as an acoustic excursion with fiddle and banjo. Now, this is what I’m talking about! This is something new, this is original. It brings a whole new nature to the song while still retaining the essence of the original. Her rant near the end, as the band builds to an driving climax, is classic Patti Smith.

In the end Twelve is not a bad album. It’s just not necessary. It serves no purpose. There’s not much on this that can really justify its reason to simply exist. Somehow I suspect, unfairly or not, if Patti had made this covers album back in 1978, when she first considered the idea, it would have been an entirely different affair.

Other Listens on July 13th:
The Outsider by Tom Pacheco
Back Here On Earth by Gordon Lightfoot
Greatest Hits by James Gang 
Misery With A Beat by Paul Kennerley
Down This Road by The Wrights 

I can’t explain what makes an album (or a song) “immediately accessible.” I don’t think anyone can. Some music is and some music isn’t. What I find “immediately accessible” may not be so to you and vice versa. Music is just too personal.

What do I mean by “immediately accessible?” The kind of record you put on and it just connects with you right from the first listen. We all have records like that. The first time I heard Lucinda Williams’ self-titled 1988 album I was hooked. The first time I heard John Stewart’s live Phoenix Concerts album I was blown away. The first time I heard Guy Clark’s Old No. 1 I was a fan for life. Some records, songs and/or artists just hit you like that. But then there are others that seem more like puzzle boxes. You know there’s something there the first time around, but you’re not quite sure what it means. So, you keep coming back and with each new listen the music reveals more of itself to you. It’s like working your way through a series of gates and with each one you see and learn more. Some of these records are my all time favorites. You have to do some work to get to the essence of the music, but in the end it is so worth it. People are like that too. Some people you just connect with immediately and become fast friends. Others not so much. But as time goes by and you get to know each other the bond that develops and grows can be even stronger than those instant connections. Hell, sometimes you don’t even like a record or a person the first time around and then you find later your feelings have changed considerably. 

I’m a huge Bob Dylan fan, but I have to admit the first time I heard Blood On The Tracks I didn’t really get it completely. It’s a complicated album. The songs are not your straightforward “pop,” “rock” or even “singer-songwriter” songs. They’re thorny, knotty and yes, tangled. A song like “Idiot Wind” takes multiple listens to even begin to relate to. Thirty years later it’s my all-time favorite album by any artist. The music didn’t change. Must have been me. 

Drastic Fantastic was not an “immediately accessible” album for me. Not at all. I had picked up KT Tunstall’s first album, Eye To The Telescope, back before she broke. I think it was on sale at Circuit City for $7.99 (the label was really trying to break her) and I’d read a good review somewhere, so I decided to give it a try. Shortly after that she even did an in-store at the Border’s bookstore here in Nashville. I wasn’t able to make it to the in-store, but it wasn’t long before “Black Horse And The Cherry Tree” and the seemingly ubiquitous “Suddenly I See” shot her into the limelight. It’s a good album (those are the two best songs) and suddenly she was a critic’s darling with lots of “promise.” Well, second albums rarely seem to fulfill the “promise” that many critics see in a first album. Such seemed to be the case with Drastic Fantastic. It didn’t seem to sell as well as the first album and several reviews I saw were not very good. But, hey, I picked it up anyway. I gave it a listen, and it didn’t really reach me. I didn’t listen again for four months. Just too damn much other stuff to listen to. When I finally got around to giving it another chance it began to open up to me. Now, I’m listening to it on a regular basis and I like it even better than the first album. ”Little Favours” and “If Only” just plain rock. “I Don’t Want You Now,” “Beauty Of Uncertainty” and “Someday Soon” grow on me more and more with each listen. 

I learned a long time ago to give most records more than one serious listen. I say most. I have to admit there are some that I can listen to once and it’s quite clear they don’t deserve another listen. There’s a lot of really bad music out there. The thing I hated most about doing A&R when I used to work at record labels was the fact that I had to listen to a LOT of bad music which meant that I had much less time to listen to good music. Nowadays I try to listen to a new album at least three times before I shuffle it off to either the library, or if I like it enough, my “current favorites” shelf. Which is where Drastic Fantastic is currently residing.

Other Listens on June 11th:
The Best Damn Thing by Avril Lavigne
The Essential Collection by Rick Nelson & The Stone Canyon Band
Castles In The Sand by David Allen Coe
Midnight On The Water by David Bromberg Band
A Natural Woman: The Ode Collection (1968 - 1976) by Carole King