The Doors, Live in Philadelphia (Rhino
Handmade/Bright Midnight). One of several concerts from which 1970's
official live Doors album Absolutely
Live was sourced is offered in
its entirety on this double CD of a May 1, 1970 show, available through
the Internet only. Like Absolutely
Live, it finds the band in a
loosey-goosey state that drifts close to sloppiness, albeit with an
engaging tipsy humor. Except for a few obligatory staples ("Light My
Fire," "Break on Through," "Roadhouse Blues"), the group seemed
determined not to play overly familiar tunes, even reaching back on
occasion to their bar band days as a poor man's Rolling Stones for B.B.
King ("Rock Me Baby"), Elvis Presley ("Mystery Train"), and Chuck Berry
("Carol") covers. Most of the tracks are previously unreleased, and
it's not all hits or covers, the setlist including such relatively
little-traveled songs as "Ship of Fools," "Universal Mind," and "Maggie
M'Gill." Certainly Jim Morrison's in a lewd'n'bluesy mood, and for a
guy with obscenity charges hanging over his head (from the group's
infamous 1969 Miami concert), he lets it all hang out with surprisingly
graphic recklessness on "Rock Me Baby" -- could anyone have
doubted what "you feel so wet...let me slide inside" really
meant? In common with most of the limited-edition releases the Doors
have made available from their archive, this isn't up to the standards
of their official catalog, even the relatively loose ones of Absolutely Live. But it's a good
souvenir for committed fans, with
much better sound than the usual bootlegs of the Doors from this era,
though it's curious the material is split into a lengthy 76-minute CD
on disc one and a mere 26-minute CD on disc two.
Bob
Dylan, Live/Finjan Club, Montreal,
Quebec,
Canada, July 2, 1962 (Yellow Dog). There are a number of
live Bob Dylan recordings from 1962, and now that some of them have
been officially issued (particularly on Live at the Gaslight 1962),
this July 2, 1962 Montreal performance might not be considered the
first place to look for such material. But if you do have a deep
interest in Dylan, and particularly the Dylan of this era, this is
recommended further listening. The sound quality is pretty clear, and
almost up to the level you'd want from an official release. The
eleven-song set includes a few Dylan originals, among them such
relatively little-traveled ones as "The Death of Emmett Till," "Quit
Your Lowdown Ways," and "Let Me Die in My Footsteps," as well as an
early performance of "Blowin' in the Wind" (here memorably introduced
as a kind of song that says "a little more than I love you and you love
me, and let's go over to the banks of Italy and raise a happy family,
you for me and me for you"). While there are other versions of some of
the traditional folk and blues tunes on other Dylan bootlegs, "Rocks
and Gravel," "Stealin'," Muddy Waters' "Two Trains Runnin'" (mistakenly
listed on some bootlegs as a Dylan composition called "Still a Fool"),
Robert Johnson's "Ramblin' on My Mind," and "Muleskinner Blues" (albeit
a chaotic version where he stops, starts, and changes keys several
times) are likewise not exactly among the more familiar items in
Dylan's early repertoire, and interesting to hear in part for that
reason alone. The main reason to listen to this CD, however, is the
performance itself, in which Dylan sings and plays with commanding
passion and sensitivity, at a time when he was both finding his feet as
a composer and still maintaining deep roots in traditional folk music.
The
Five Du-Tones, Shake a Tail Feather:
The Complete One-Derful! Recordings (Shout). Though the
Five-Du Tones did some subsequent recordings for other labels, their
key output is contained in the sides they cut from the One-Derful label
between 1963-66. All of that material is contained on this 22-track
compilation, including not only all of the sides from their singles for
the company, but also four songs that didn't surface until they
surfaced on an obscure Japanese LP more than a decade after they were
cut. Their only hit, "Shake a Tail Feather," is here, of course, and
there's no getting around the conclusion that it's by far their best
record. Still, the rest of the CD does contain its share of fun, wiggly
dance tunes that helped bridge the gap between doo wop and soul music,
with the occasional more serious romantic number thrown in. Most
comparable to the Contours of "Do You Love Me" fame (and, as Clive
Richardson's liner notes rightly point out, the Rivingtons and the
early Isley Brothers, though more distantly), the Five Du-Tones had a
roughly similar knack for putting wacky, at times almost slapabout
humor into their uptempo dance discs. The fairly uproarious "Chicken
Astronaut" -- about a spaceman who's too scared to go to the moon,
yelping to be let out of his rocket so he can go back to earth and
party instead -- is certainly the highlight, aside from "Shake a Tail
Feather" itself. Much of the rest of it veers to the novelty side,
without songs of the same strength. The group's zany playing-the-fool
humor is unflaggingly spirited, though, and a few numbers (like the
jazzy "Nobody But My Baby" and the smoochy ballad "Mountain of Love")
show they could be skilled straight soul singers when the mood took
them.
Grimms, Sleepers (Hux). Grimms' third and final
album was done without some of the founding members, Mike McGear and
Vivian Stanshall having departed, although Neil Innes, Roger McGough,
and John Gorman remained aboard. Andy Roberts (perhaps better known for
his early-1970s folk-rock-oriented singer-songwriter recordings) was on
hand to give the comedy-rock group some more conventional musicality,
and it was decided to fill the LP solely with musical tracks, although
the two prior Grimms albums had mixed those with spoken word pieces. Sleepers was a commendably humorous
collection of pastiches and
send-ups of numerous musical genres, though it fell short of being as
uproarious as the funniest efforts of the musicians (and of Innes in
particular). Among the styles satirized were heavy progressive rock
("The Worst Is Yet to Come," where the grim prophesy is interrupted by
happy-go-lucky whistling); white-boy blues-rock ("Blackest of Blues");
folk music (a warping of "House of the Rising Sun" that makes explicit
what naughtiness goes on there); easygoing country-rock ("Sing Me That
Song"); Beach Boys-styled retro rock ("Backbreaker," whose heroine is
"pretty as a rose, if you disagree she'll smash her nose")and chin-up
countercultural anthems ("Slaves of Freedom"). Though more a record
that grows on you rather than one that sends you into giggles, its
understated silliness is nicely complemented by accomplished
musicianship.
The 2006 CD reissue on Hux adds historical liner notes and eleven bonus
tracks, many of them taken from a work tape prepared by Innes, McGough,
Gorman, and Roberts shortly in advance of recording the official album.
Though not as sophisticated production-wise, these bonus cuts are
nearly as witty and enjoyable as those on the Sleepers LP, including
not only early versions of four tracks from the record, but also a
number of songs that didn't make the final selection. Among the
highlights of those is Innes' folk busk "Crystal Balls" (with its
opening line "I've got my hand up the skirt of Mother Nature"), a
desecration of the Beatles' "She's Leaving Home," and, most
interestingly, an early version of the 1964 Beatles pastiche "I Must Be
in Love," which Innes would use shortly afterward for his classic
Rutles project.
The
Kingston Trio, The Kingston Trio
Story: Wherever We May Go [DVD] (Shout Factory).
Combining excerpts from many vintage 1950s/1960s film
clips/performances and interviews with the Kingston Trio's Bob Shane,
John Stewart, and Nick Reynolds (original member Dave Guard having died
years before this DVD was made), this is a fine documentary of the most
successful folk group of its era (if not <I>any</I) era). The
disc's hour-long breezily paced principal feature has excerpts of TV
and concert presentations of most of their hits, although "The Reverend
Mr. Black" somehow doesn't make it, and a few (though not many) of the
performances are from post-1970 clips with different or reunion
versions of the band, not their classic '50s/'60s lineups. The
'50s/'60s clips in particular present a zany, comic energy that didn't
always come through as strongly on their records, and even if it seems
a little dated and corny several decades later, it does help explain
their enormous in-person appeal. Unfortunately, the interview segments
with Reynolds (showing effects of a stroke) are less extensive than
those with Shane and Stewart, but gaps are filled in by comments from
Reynolds' son, Kingston Trio biographer William J. Bush, and
celebrities such as Al Jardine of the Beach Boys and Tom Smothers.
There may not be many revelations for those familiar with the group's
career, but it's a well-done general survey, with occasional surprising
bits like Jardine's admission that the Beach Boys' early striped-shirt
look was inspired by the Kingston Trio; a clip of the relatively
obscure "Raspberries, Strawberries" that showcases the sweetest side of
their three-part harmonies; tantalizingly brief clips of the group
doing a 7 Up commercial and a pilot for a TV series (Young Men in a
Hurry), featuring the Stewart lineup playing fictional
characters,
that never aired; and even a very brief scene from the Australian TV
series Dave Guard hosted after leaving the group, Dave's Place.
Some viewers might feel the documentary skips over the basic details of
their career a little lightly, but if you want more detail, a lot's
provided by no less than about 90 minutes or so of bonus features.
While it's true these are more for the dedicated fan than the viewer
looking for an entertaining, concise history, these segments are not at
all superfluous, though they emphasize talking heads more than the main
documentary does. One section has the ex-members and others discussing
the specific stories behind numerous of their more celebrated songs;
another goes into their sound, personalities, and image in some depth;
another profiles their manager, Frank Werber. Some very interesting
interview subjects and vintage clips not in the principle feature show
up in these supplemental sections, including scenes from the Hollywood
film adaptation of "Tom Dooley" and a quirky juke box jury program in
which four young adults explain why they think "Raspberries,
Strawberries" will be a substantial hit (though it wasn't). There are
even three of their original, reasonably amusing 7 Up commercials in
their entirety. The part on obsessed Kingston Trio fans (some of whom
even go to a Kingston Trio "fantasy camp" that allows them to meet and
play with surviving ex-members) will be too much for even many
committed admirers of the group, but fortunately the DVD doesn't go any
more overboard than that.
Ramsey
Lewis, The In Crowd Anthology
(UM3/Island). A two-CD anthology of Ramsey Lewis' Chess recordings
might seem excessive, but considering how much material he cut for the
label in the 1960s, this set is actually fairly selective. Certainly
it's good value, with 39 tracks and a running time of two hours and
twenty minutes. As for consistency of style and quality, that's another
matter, though generally it's a worthwhile summary of highlights from
the prime of a rare '60s instrumental musician who combined jazz,
R&B, and pop with considerable commercial success. While none of
this could be categorized as raw or earthy, some of the tracks
(particularly on disc one) are fairly gutsy R&B-jazz fusions,
particularly the hits "The 'In' Crowd" and "Wade in the Water" (his two
other Top Forty singles, "Hang on Sloopy" and "A Hard Day's Night," are
also here). On the other hand, the covers of pop-rock hits (including
several by the Beatles) veer toward lounge soul, even though there was
no one better than Lewis at that kind of stuff. Occasionally there are
flashes of a more idiosyncratic, jazzy originality that sound as if
Lewis is playing for himself as well as the marketplace, particularly
when he gets into some Latin-influence boogaloo grooves on "Blue Bango"
(easily the most uninhibited piece on this collection), "Spanish
Grease," and "Hey Mrs. Jones." The later cuts, while showing him
capable of keeping up with commercial trends by adding funk and touches
of psychedelia, also find him losing the distinctive mid-'60s
nightclubbish pop-soul sound that had vaulted him to prominence in the
first place.
Curtis
Mayfield, Anthology 1965-1994
[DVD] (Footstomp). This 90-minute DVD, mostly taken from 1970-75
clips (and mostly from television programs), is a pretty enjoyable
compilation of Curtis Mayfield performances, though the way it's
assembled and packaged makes it pretty obvious it's not an authorized
release. In its favor, most of the footage is presented in pretty good
quality, though there's an annoying small logo of the Footstomp label
in the upper right-hand corner -- a pretty rich pretense if the object
was to present bootlegging, since this itself is not an officially
blessed production. There are Japanese subtitles on some other
segments, and to its detriment, the majority of the material is mimed,
or at the very least sung to a backing track from the record. That's
especially obvious in the 1971-75 material from the Soul Train TV
program (which comprises about half the DVD), where Curtis does sing
into a mike, but no other musicians are visible.
Still, this does afford the chance to see Mayfield perform, in some
fashion, much material from his prime -- not only highlights from the Superfly album, but also such
relatively uncelebrated tunes as
"Check Out Your Mind" (done in 1970, when he was still part of the
Impressions), "Back to the World," and "Future Shock." Also on the disc
is one sole '60s Impressions clip (of "It's Alright," from 1965); a
performance of "Freddie's Dead" at the 1972 Grammy awards; a live 1972
medley of "We the People Who Are Darker Than Blue" and "Give Me Your
Love"; the clip of Mayfield doing "I'm Your Pusherman" in a nightclub
from the Superfly movie
itself; footage of him performing "Freddie's
Dead" live in a studio in 1972 (though, unfortunately, this particular
scene has subpar audio); and a live 1973 performance of "Superfly" on Midnight Special (introduced by
Helen Reddy!) that's probably the
highlight of the DVD. While the numerous Soul Train excerpts are
fairly artificial in their lip-syncing, incidentally, they're not
without some extra-musical entertainment value, in both the fairly
amazing display of colorful period African-American fashions among the
dancers, and a few segments where Mayfield answers some questions about
his current releases, both from host Don Cornelius and (in a too-short
segment, comprising just a few questions) from the actual Soul Train
audience. The disc ends with the "bonus track" of a Mayfield tribute
medley at the 1994 Grammy Awards, performed by musicians including
Bruce Springsteen, Bonnie Raitt, B.B. King, Tony! Toni! Toné!,
Stevie Winwood, and Steve Cropper.
The Quiet
Five, When the Morning Sun Dries the
Dew (RPM). Both of sides of all six of the singles issued
by this obscure British band between 1965-67 (including one released
only in the US) are on this compilation, which also presents seven
previously unissued tracks. With their clean-cut, American-influenced
vocal harmony sound, The Quiet Five weren't too comparable to many
other British Invasion bands; perhaps the Fortunes and Peter &
Gordon, a bit, though they were earthier than the Fortunes and not as
folky as Peter & Gordon. The influences of the Beach Boys and
Merseybeat are also felt to varying degrees. While the material is
uneven, and isn't stunning, it's a pretty respectable slant on the more
lightweight side of the mid-'60s British Invasion. Certainly their
moody, folky debut single "When the Morning Sun Dries the Dew" is a
highlight, akin to Peter & Gordon in their more serious moods,
making one wish Quiet Five singer-guitarist Kris Ife had penned more of
the group's releases. The more energetic B-sides "Tomorrow I'll Be
Gone" (a quite tough Merseybeat-flavored number) and the
soul-pop-Mersey hybrid "Let's Talk It Over" are also quite satisfying,
if not typical of the approach the band usually took. Indeed, the
group's versatility sometimes worked against rather than for them, as
they also delved into unimpressive updates of standards, limpid pop,
and a not-so-hot cover of the fine Rolling Stones LP track "I Am
Waiting." Still, there are more enjoyable cuts here than duds,
including an uncharacteristically fuzzy stomper with lead vocals by
P.J. Proby, "Didn't Give a Damn," among the unreleased items. Overall,
it's a pleasantly worthwhile compilation, and recommended to British
Invasion collectors trying to discover something new from the vaults,
as the Quiet Five are a band of which even many serious British
Invasion fans might remain unaware.
Cliff
Richard, In the Beginning
[DVD] (Music Reviews Ltd.). On the one hand, the availability
of this look at the early years of Cliff Richard's music is welcome,
both because he did some good rock'n'roll during that time that's
undervalued, and because there's some good footage of early Richard
performances. On the other, it's frustratingly disappointing, as it's
too short (about 50 minutes), includes only portions of performances
rather than full songs, and doesn't have interviews with Richard
himself, or even with Richard associates. Instead, the commentary's
supplied by fans, critics, musicians, and producers who, with the
possible exception of British rock writer Chris Welch, will not be well
known to the average rock'n'roll enthusiast (and certainly don't have
direct connections with Richard's career). The talking heads are
reasonably astute in their observations, but one would have to think
that interviews with Richard and the Shadows, whether archival or done
specifically for a project such as this, would have been more
illuminating. In addition, the length and the way the program's
structured doesn't allow for a great deal of depth. Richard actually
recorded a good number of decent rockers in the late 1950s and early
1960s, but you don't hear about too many of them here, and the
impression's given that he moved into all-around entertainment almost
immediately after rising to stardom, which is partially but not wholly
true. Worst of all, although there are some excerpts of Richard singing
and performing in late-'50s/early-'60s TV shows and feature films,
these are truncated (even an exciting live 1960 television version of
the classic "Move It"), sometimes sharing a split screen with one of
the talking heads. What vintage footage there is has its interesting
points, also including 1959 TV covers of "Turn Me Loose" and the
Coasters' "Three Cool Cats" (the latter sung with fellow early British
rockers Dickie Pride and Marty Wilde). But given better resources, it
must be possible to fill a solid 90-minute documentary on the same
subject with much more old footage and more relevant interviewees.
The
Rolling Stones, Sweet Black
Angel/The Lost Sessions Vol. 1 (Empress Valley Supreme).
The late 1960s and early 1970s didn't yield many (as far as we know)
unreleased studio recordings of completed, otherwise unavailable
Rolling Stones songs. But it did produce a wealth of fairly interesting
alternate/working versions and song embryos that never got polished
off, sixteen of which are presented on this compilation. As the title Sweet Black Angel implies, many are
from that murky early-'70s
period when the Stones were working, in fits and starts, on Exile on
Main Street, and several of these tracks are different versions
of
songs that ended up on that album. Some of these aren't much different
from the familiar renditions, but others are, like an early, much less
fully formed version of "Tumbling Dice" with different lyrics (here
titled "Good Time Woman"); a long version of "Shake Your Hips"; "Stop
Breakin' Down" with no harmonica; and an instrumental backing track for
"Sweet Black Angel" itself.
Also on hand, and perhaps of somewhat greater interest in most cases,
are a bunch of instrumentals that obviously contain seeds of possible
songs, but which somehow never quite got there. At the very least,
these have that appealing rough'n'ready, scratchy soul-blues-rock feel
so typical of the Rolling Stones in the early '70s. While some of them
are on the generic side as far as the riffs go, some of them seemed to
hold real promise, making one hope that tracks of these tunes with sung
lyrics might miraculously be found one day. "Aladdin Story" in
particular is a luminously sluggish, jazzy tune with entrancing
guitar-horn-vibes interplay, perhaps abandoned because the key guitar
riff is very close to the one that had been used on "Paint It Black."
Closing out the disc are a few late-'60s cuts with vocals, and while a
couple of these songs were used on Metamorphosis,
the likably
wistful if slight soul ballad "Hamburger to Go" never did find release
anywhere.
Although all of this material had been around for quite a few years
before this 2005 bootleg, the sound quality of this disc is much
superior to many earlier circulations of these tracks, so much so that
much of it could be used as bonus cuts on official CD reissues without
raising any eyebrows (and those that aren't quite as spiffy still have
fidelity almost as good as most officially released recordings). While
these efforts are either too close to the official versions or too
undeveloped to interest non-fanatics, anyone whose interest in the
Rolling Stones' music from this era extends beyond what's been approved
for the marketplace will enjoy this collection. (Note that some of the
dates listed for the recordings do not jibe with those listed in other
sources.)
Sly
& the Family Stone, My Own
Beliefs: Video Anthology 1968-1986 [DVD] (Avdenture).
Although the image quality of this extraordinary two-DVD bootleg set is
uneven, no serious fans of Sly & the Family Stone could fail to be
impressed by it, offering as it does an astonishing four hours or so of
vintage clips, mostly from television programs. The performances are
almost all good-to-excellent and visually dynamic, featuring the band
with colorful finery and clever dance moves/vocal tradeoffs in an
assortment of TV/concert/studio settings. Most of their hits are
performed -- in fact, most of them are offered in multiple versions --
and all but a couple of the clips are from their 1968-75 prime. The
very earliest of these (listed as a "studio/promo" clip of "Dance to
the Music") shows them wearing almost conventional clothes and
hairstyles, but almost immediately they graduate to a presentation
about as purposefully freaky as anyone's was in the psychedelic era. In
addition to music performances, there are also a few expectedly
enigmatic interview clips of Sly Stone on the talks shows of Dick
Cavett, and a heated 1974 discussion of race and politics on Mike
Douglas' talk show with Stone, Muhammad Ali, and (believe it or not)
Congressman Wayne Hays, shortly before that powerful Democratic
politician was disgraced by the revelation that a former secretary was
on his payroll to be his mistress. A brief 1980s TV interview shows Sly
in better health than one would expect, but is utterly unrevealing as
to why he virtually disappeared from the music business. There's even
footage (albeit amateurish) of his 1974 wedding ceremony at Madison
Square Garden.
While all this material is very entertaining, and historically
valuable, be cautioned that the visual quality is usually not up to the
standard of authorized releases, though the vast majority is
okay-to-excellent. The fairly lengthy set from the 1969 Texas
International Pop Festival, for instance, suffers from subpar audio,
and some of the footage has a running time bar superimposed on the
frame. The songs performed don't vary as much as you might want or
expect, usually being oriented toward familiar hits, with seven
versions of "Dance to the Music" (and nothing, unfortunately, from There's a Riot Goin' On). The
band's taste for presenting their hits
in medleys gets a little tiresome when you see it done several times
over. While the early-'0s clips with expanded and different personnel
are good, they're not quite up to the level of the ones featuring the
original lineup (which comprise about half the material), who had a
chemistry subsequent aggregations couldn't match. And for all its
length, this doesn't gather all the footage of the group known to
exist. Like many other such releases, this ends up emphasizing the need
for someone to compile this or similar footage from the best possible
sources and give it official release. As of the time this DVD had
appeared, however, there was no word of such an official release,
making this the best known place to see as much of the band as you can,
despite the inevitable shortcomings inherent in not having access to
the best source footage.
Ike & Tina Turner, The Soul Anthology (Red
Line). Ike & Tina Turner put out so many recordings in the final
years of the 1960s that there was no way to meticulously craft each of
them. As a result the discs, while usually acceptable at the very
least, had an uneven feel, and were apt to present routine material and
arrangements that weren't always worthy of the Turners' talents. Most
general soul fans will prefer investigating this material through more
selective best-of compilations. But if you are a more serious
aficionado who wants to collect more, this two-CD, 44-track compilation
does a pretty good job of putting a lot of it in one place, in a more
thoughtful, logical grouping than many such CD anthologies do. Four
1968-1969 albums are presented in their entirety here, those being
1968's So Fine and 1969's Cussin', Cryin' & Carryin' On
(both
originally issued on the Pompeii label), and 1969's Outta Season and The Hunter (both issued on Blue
Thumb).
Certainly the records were spotty, and (aside from Cussin', Cryin'
& Carryin' On too oriented toward familiar covers of
familiar
blues/soul/R&B tunes. Accepting that this isn't Ike & Tina at
their very best, however, it's certainly no disgrace to their names, as
Tina Turner's singing is almost always involved and fiery, and the
tracks always competent at the least, if not always inspired. Certainly
the cuts from So Fine are the
least distinctive, with something of a
soul-by-numbers feel, though occasionally (particularly in the
blues-soul slow burner "It Sho Ain't Me") even these rise above the
average. The material from Cussin',
Cryin' & Carryin' On is more
interesting, if only because Ike Turner wrote most of it, though its
zigzags between R&B ballads, girl group-influenced soul, and quite
good funk-rock instrumentals with a menacing edge suggest it might have
been culled from various sessions over a lengthy period. Both Blue
Thumb albums (heard on disc two) are decisively bluesier and better
than the two Pompeii LPs, though the song selection is a little
unimaginative, with covers of well-known tunes like "Dust My Broom," "3
O'Clock in the Morning Blues," "Rock Me, Baby," "My Babe," and "The
Things That I Used to Do." Ike Turner's guitar work is certainly more
assertive on the Blue Thumb material, and while the songs themselves
might not be the best interpretations, overall they add up to a pretty
good blues-soul listen, highlighted by what's probably their most
acclaimed cover from this era, "I've Been Loving You Too Long"
(originally by Otis Redding). As nice bonuses, the compilers also
tacked on the one track (the instrumental "Funky Mule") from their 1969
Pompeii LP Get It Together!
that hadn't been previously released at
the time, as well as the famous, original Phil Spector-produced 1966
single "River Deep-Mountain High," always good to hear even if it
doesn't stylistically fit in with the rest of the compilation.
The Walker Brothers, Everything Under the Sun
(Universal). Everything under the sun from the Walker Brothers'
studio output is indeed here on this five-CD box set. It has not only
everything from their mid-1960s prime on the first three CDs, but also
the more neglected (though considerably less impressive) three albums
or so they did in the mid-to-late 1970s after reuniting. There are also
13 previously unreleased tracks from 1965-67, as well as a 48-page
booklet with an historical essay and oodles of photos and memorabilia.
Naturally, like many completist box sets, this isn't for everyone;
there's much superb material, but also a good deal of also-ran cuts and
covers. Too, the 1970s material is not only often rather dull pop
(sometimes with slight country overtones), but not too similar or
compatible with the lush 1960s productions. Plus, to be technical, it
doesn't have <I>everything</I> the Walker Brothers issued,
lacking the live album they recorded in Japan in 1968 (which, as of the
release of this box set, still had not made it to CD).
Focusing on the positive, however, this has a lot of quality music
besides their familiar hits (which are also all included, of course).
The R&B and soul covers the brothers sang to pad out their releases
may not have been their forte, and sometimes the pop ballads were
gushy, but Scott Walker's voice (and John Walker's second vocals)
usually at least made them pleasant on some level. As for the booming,
brooding ballads (with nods to Phil Spector and the Righteous Brothers)
at which they excelled, there are plenty of those, including "The Sun
Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore," "After the Lights Go Out," "Another Tear
Falls," "In My Room," "Everything Under the Sun," "Just Say Goodbye,"
"Deadlier Than the Male," and others. A few other songs have seeds of
Scott Walker's more serious, arty side ("Archangel," "Mrs. Murphy,"
"Orpheus," "Experience"), and John Walker takes a nice lead vocal on
one of their best obscure tracks, "I Can't Let It Happen to You."
The thirteen previously unreleased 1965-67 recordings don't add up to
an unissued album of sorts; they're more an assembly of odds and ends
with a bent toward mediocre soul covers ("In the Midnight Hour," "I Got
You (I Feel Good)") and pop standards (such as "The Shadow of Your
Smile"). Again, however, the vocals make even these erratic leftovers
worthwhile to some degree, and a few of the songs are rather good,
including the characteristically melancholy "Hang on for Me," the
dreamily orchestrated "Lost One," and the relatively upbeat Burt
Bacharach-like "I Got Lost for a While." (The writers of all three of
those mysterious tunes, incidentally, are listed as "unknown," leaving
it open as to whether these were original compositions.) Also among
these thirteen unearthed items are alternate versions of two songs the
Walkers did release, Randy Newman's "Looking for Me" and their big
smash "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine (Anymore)." While these aren't as good
as the official versions, they are at least notably different, and it's
interesting to hear "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine (Anymore)" in a
considerably tamer, more reserved arrangement.
Other than the obvious similarities in the vocals, discs four and five
could almost be the work of a different group than the one heard on the
first three CDs. While this latter portion does include their big 1976
UK hit "No Regrets," it's tough sledding, with much of it given over to
middle-of-the-road covers of the likes of Jimmy Webb, Randy Newman,
Kris Kristofferson, and Boz Scaggs. Suddenly, however, the torpor is
interrupted by Scott Walker's four originals from their final album,
1978's Nite Flights. They're
bleak, piercing, heavily electronic
rhythmic numbers, wholly unlike anything else the Walker Brothers did
in either the 1960s or the 1970s, and wholly unlike any other '70s
Walkers recordings in that they sounded bold and adventurous, rather
than just treading water. They're enough, just about, to justify the
inclusion of the Walker Brothers reunion material in the box, though
not enough to keep the inclusion of said material from making the box
even more erratic than most such complete overviews of major artists.
Muddy
Waters, Classic Concerts [DVD]
(Hip-O). Classic Concerts is
one of those rare historical music
compilation DVDs for which there's nothing significant to criticize,
and much to praise. The bulk of the two-hour disc is devoted to three
Muddy Waters concerts from different eras, including his historical
1960 Newport Jazz Festival appearance, a 1968 show at the Copenhagen
Jazz Festival, and a 1977 gig at the Molde Jazz Festival in Norway.
Although the black-and-white Newport footage does not capture the
entire concert (much of which has never circulated), it does contain 26
minutes, Muddy backed by an excellent band including two blues stars in
their own right (pianist Otis Spann and harmonica player James Cotton).
This is definitely the most exciting portion of the DVD, including fine
versions of his staples "(I'm Your) Hoochie Coochie Man," "Tiger in
Your Tank," "Rollin' Stone," and above all an extended "Got My Mojo
Working." Waters' shakes and shivers are truly spine-chilling on that
last number, some levity introduced by a section where he dances with
Cotton. The finale "Mean Mistreater/Going to Chicago Blues," where
several other singers are brought on for cameos, is relatively
inessential. But this segment is still one of the top vintage
blues-on-film documents of all, enhanced for this DVD by the syncing of
stereo live recordings to three of the songs to improve the audio
(though "Rollin' Stone" and "Mean Mistreater" remain in the original
mono film sound).
By the time of the 1968 Denmark show (also shot in black and white),
only Spann was remaining from the Newport band. It's a somewhat staider
and less electrifying performance, but still sturdy Chicago blues,
though Paul Oscher's harmonica seems undermiked. Waters was less mobile
by the time of the 1977 concert (shown in color), sitting on a stool
throughout most of the show (whereas before a serious 1969 car accident
he'd stood). Again, however, this is still a respectable showcase for
his intact vocal talents, with "Got My Mojo Working" and "(I'm Your)
Hoochie Coochie Man" remaining in his set (as they had at the Denmark
gig as well). Brief but worthwhile bonus features include a 1977 London
performance of "The Blues Had a Baby and They Named It Rock &
Roll"; a 1972 British TV interview; and an interview done at the 1977
Molde show where Waters patiently responds to rather cliched questions,
asking his interrogator to "bring it to me straight, brother" when the
interviewer gingerly asks whether Muddy's music has political aspects.
Detailed liner notes, mostly written by Bob Margolin (who plays guitar
behind Waters in the 1977 Norwegian footage) and also featuring an
appreciation from Bill Wyman, are also included in this high-grade
package.
Various Artists, Got No Shoes Got No Blues: The 1969 Texas
International Pop Festival [DVD] (Keep on Truckin').
There were several large rock festivals in 1969 that never achieved the
fame or notoriety of Woodstock or Altamont. One such event was the 1969
Texas International Pop Festival, which took place near Dallas on Labor
Day weekend, just a couple of weeks after Woodstock (indeed, featuring
some of the same performers). It's not well known that, as at Woodstock
and Altamont, much film was taken of the event, though no movie was
finished for commercial release. This DVD presents an 80-minute
workprint (complete with running time codes at the bottom of the
screen) of the film that, in the words of the back cover, was
"undoubtedly assembled for the purpose of securing a pre-editing
distribution deal"; according to the back cover, "the rough cut of the
film was shown once in Dallas shortly after the festival, but the
record companies told the guy who showed it that they would cut his
ball [sic] off [if] he ever showed it again." On one hand, this is
interesting rare document of both its era and of a festival that's not
well remembered on a national or international level, with footage of a
quality lineup of performers, including live clips from the sets of
Janis Joplin, Santana, Grand Funk Railroad (introduced, amusingly, by
the emcee as "Grand Funk Railway"), Chicago (when they were still known
as "Chicago Transit Authority"), Led Zeppelin, Ten Years After, Tony
Joe White, James Cotton, and Sweetwater. Several of these acts were or
were just becoming big stars, of course, and footage of White (here
singing his hit "Pork Salad Annie," which is one of the disc's
highlights) and Sweetwater (most famous for being one of the least
celebrated acts to play Woodstock) from this time isn't easy to come by.
However, as a film, or even a workprint, there are many important
factors keeping this from being as notable or enjoyable as it could
have been, even considering that this was not the movie in the final
form it would have taken. The audio for the musical portions is
frustratingly thin and tinny, and the sets themselves aren't too well
shot in terms of lighting, editing, and camera angles, particularly
compared to celebrated documentaries of similar events such as Woodstock and Monterey Pop. There's frequent
cutting between the
onstage performances and (sometimes wholly unrelated) audience
frolicking, to the point where there's more audience than performance
footage in some scenes. The quality of the print itself is erratic, and
some of the segments are linked by hokey, verging-on-annoying staged
clips of a beer-drinking cowboy listening to a radio show about the
"hippie hypocrisy." And, finally, some of the performers listed in the
credits -- including such interesting, relatively underexposed ones as
Delaney & Bonnie, the Rotary Connection, and the Incredible String
Band -- are not shown in the workprint, though presumably shots from
their sets would have been added at a later stage. If you can put up
with all this, there are flashes of worthwhile music, whether it's
White's "Pork Salad Annie"; Chicago during that very brief time when
they were considered a hip act; and the incredibly manic stage
posturing of Ten Years After's Leo Lyons, who plays his bass as if the
instrument is in the process of electrocuting him. The shots of hippies
swimming in the nude and making out, as well as the police chief
enthusiastically praising the crowd's peaceful behavior, are
reminiscent of similar scenes in Woodstock.
They cement the
impression of this rare film-in-progress as documenting a minor-league Woodstock of sorts, in respects to
both the Woodstock movie and the
Woodstock festival itself.
Various
Artists, Out There: Wild and
Wondrous Roots of
Rock'n'Roll Vol. 2 (Viper). Like the first volume of this
delightful series, this digs out 20 tracks from the 1920s through the
mid-1950s that illustrate the wide roots of rock'n'roll. Unlike many
other such compilations, it doesn't just present the blues and
hillbilly recordings that were most instrumental in leading to the
fusion of R&B and country-and-western that gave birth to
rock'n'roll, although there are some of those. There's also goofy
pop-jazz (Ella Fitzgerald's "Two Little Men in a Flying Saucer"),
jugband music, boogie-influenced jazz, virtuoso instrumental country
boogie (a young Chet Atkins' "Oh By Jingo!"), old-time folk music with
country and blues elements (Doc Boggs' aptly titled "Country Blues"),
and even a field recording of a Native American peyote dance. And the
Boswell Sisters' "Rock and Roll," cut way back in 1934, shows that the
term rock and roll far predated the 1950s or Alan Freed, even if the
track itself is far closer to harmony vocal swing jazz than blues.
There are also, of course, some Delta blues from Son House, hillbilly
from Hank Williams and Jimmy Dickens, and a few tracks that more
closely approximate early rock'n'roll, both stylistically and
chronologically: Louis Jordan's classic boogie "Saturday Night Fish
Fry," Lightnin' Slim's harmonica blues/R&B "She's Gone," and Johnny
"Guitar" Watson's astonishing instrumental "Space Guitar," which still
sounds futuristic today, let alone in 1954 (when it was originally
cut). Many of the preceding names are famous or fairly well known, but
there are a few items here that might surprise and inspire even
seasoned collectors, like the madly over-reverbed country swing of
steel guitarist Billy Briggs' 1953 track "Alarm Clock Boogie." Combined
with detailed annotation (recording dates included) that avoid
stuffiness, this is a far more fun and imaginatively eclectic anthology
-- in terms of both listening and packaging -- than most higher-profile
releases that explore a similar theme, though this series,
unfortunately, remains one of the more obscure such ones.
Various Artists, Protest! American Protest Songs 1928-1953
(Viper). Although it wasn't until the folk revival and folk-rock
movements of the 1960s that the protest song was a widely recognized
wing of popular music in the US, there had been socially conscious
protest songs of sorts since the dawn of the recording age. This
compilation assembles 20 of them, and refreshingly, it doesn't
emphasize material from the roots of the folk revival (though there's
certainly some of that). Instead, this comes from all over the roots
music map, from country blues and old-time folk/country artists to
gospel, hillbilly, and western swing. There are certainly a number of
famous artists and classic songs here, including the Sons of the
Pioneers' "Old Man Atom," Bessie Smith's "Nobody Knows You When You're
Down and Out," Big Bill Broonzy's "Black, Brown and White," Billie
Holiday's "Strange Fruit," and Woody Guthrie's "1913 Massacre." There
are, too, sides by Bill Monroe (as part of the Monroe Brothers), Uncle
Dave Macon, Memphis Minnie, and even Gene Autry, who shows a surprising
and little-known side of his repertoire with "The Death of Mother
Jones," inspired by the labor activist Mary Harris Jones.
Many of these tracks are not "protest" songs in the angry and earnest
sense that many listeners associate with the style; they often take a
more lightly satirical, even congenial approach. The enjoyable
novelty-tinged pieces on the then-new threat of atomic energy ("Old Man
Atom," the Golden Gate Quartet's alternately somber and swinging gospel
number "Atom and Evil," Billy Hughes and the Rhythm Buckeroos' "Atomic
Sermon") remind us of how ambivalently the nuclear threat was viewed
when it was a new thing, and how songs commenting on it sounded rather
like they were whistling in the dark. If you do want songs that were
more audible ancestors of the folk revival, however, they're here in
cuts like Josh White, Millard Lampbell, and the Almanac Singers' "Billy
Boy" and Lee Hayes with the Almanac Singers' "The Dodger Song," the
Almanac Singers being a huge influence in getting said folk revival off
the ground in the middle of the twentieth century. Whatever your
sociopolitical perspective, this is impressive on purely musical and
lyrical grounds, and can be enjoyed for those qualites alone. This
isn't the most extensive anthology constructed along this theme; Bear
Family's massive ten-CD box Songs
For Political Action: Folk Music,
Topical Songs, and the American Left, 1926-1953 obviously has
more.
But as a single-disc overview of some notable entries in the genre,
this is fine, with informative historical liner notes.
The Beach Boys, A Vocal Element: Live 1967 (Hang
Ten). During their November 1967 "Thanksgiving Tour," the Beach
Boys—without Brian Wilson, and with Daryl Dragon adding keyboards and
Ron Brown bass—recorded several of their shows for their own personal
archive. This two-CD set offers tapes of four of the concerts, taken
from stereo soundboard recordings. In some respects, this is way above
the average standard for unauthorized releases of 1967 live rock tapes;
the sound is very good, and there's about two and a half hours of
music. At the same time, the performances—in common with other live
Beach Boys tapes from the last half of the 1960s—are not all that
fervent fans might hope for. It might be due in part to the mixes, but
the sound and arrangements are on the thin side (despite the
innovative-for-1967 live theremin on "Wild Honey" and "Good
Vibrations"), and the instrumental execution tentative. Plus, there's a
lot of corny humor, both in the between-song patter and, more
objectionably, sometimes within the songs themselves, where Mike Love
not only acts the cut-up, but effectively manages to disrupt the flow
of the music. Or do you really want to hear him pretend to forget a
verse after the instrumental break of "I Get Around," substituting the
line "we always take my car 'cause it's never been stolen"?
There's also no denying that hearing four similar sets in a row is
going to entail too much repetition if you're not a serious Beach Boys
fan, even if each of those sets is
stuffed with
classic hits, including "Wouldn't It Be Nice," "Surfer Girl," "God Only
Knows," "California Girls," "Barbara Ann," "Darlin'," "Wild Honey,"
"Help Me Rhonda," "Sloop John B," "I Get Around," and "Good
Vibrations." That brings up something that might be viewed as a plus or
a drawback, depending on your perspective—while these are great songs,
it might have been nice, both at the time and decades later, to hear
some less predictable tunes. The first of these concerts (from November
17 in Detroit) does offer a
couple of unexpected
such items with a nicely harmonized "Country Air" and the less
impressive good-time rocker "How She Boogalooed It," both from the
soon-to-be-released Wild Honey.
But these were thereafter dropped
from the set, though "Johnny B. Goode" makes an unexpected appearance
at a later one. It's often been noted how the Beach Boys suffered when
Brian Wilson withdrew from an active role in their studio recordings in
the late 1960s; it's less often observed that his retirement from the
stage in the mid-1960s might have had a detrimental impact on their
live performances. He might have done a lot to make recordings such as
this more satisfying, even if they are respectably enjoyable relics
with some good vocal harmonies. As bonuses, the CD also has a few
spoken radio commercials the group did in March 1966 (though there's a
snatch of a cappella harmonizing in one), the most interesting of which
have some fairly humorous jabs between Mike Love and publicist Derek
Taylor. Obviously some of the Love-Taylor dialogue is drawn from
outtakes, particularly as one includes gay references that certainly
wouldn't have been used in a Beach Boys promo in 1966.
Pete Best, Best of the
Beatles [DVD] (Lightyear). For the most part, Best of the
Beatles is a very interesting, well done supplement to the
official
Beatles story, this documentary focusing on Pete Best and his stint in
the band in the early 1960s. Directed by the same man (Geoff Wonfor)
who directed the Beatles' own famous Anthology
documentary, it
includes extensive interviews not only with Best himself, but also with
quite a few others who were around him and the Beatles in their early
days, including their Hamburg friends Astrid Kirchherr (who offers the
memorable observation that they would have been popular even if they'd
worn turbans) and Klaus Voormann; Best's brothers Rory and Roag;
Beatles road manager Neil Aspinall; and John Lennon's first wife,
Cynthia Lennon. While there's no moving sound footage of the Beatles
from this period, the two-hour film does use a wealth of vintage still
photos, covering Pete's association with the group from the time he met
them in his mother's basement club to his inglorious sacking in 1962,
just as the Beatles secured their recording contract. There's also some
very interesting (if brief) actual footage of Best from the 1960s,
including a television spot in which he was interviewed with his mother.
However, there's also the sense that the documentary is something of an
apologetic justification for the man who was dealt one of the worst
breaks in the history of show business. The points are repeatedly made
that Best was a good drummer, and vital to their rise both as a
musician and via his moody image, which gave him great individual
popularity as the Beatles established themselves in Liverpool. But
Best's own nervous, shy demeanor throughout his interview segments
doesn't convince the viewer that he was ever too charismatic, or offer
proof that he would have been nearly as good a fit for the group as his
far wittier, more charismatic replacement (Ringo Starr) was. Nor is
this question addressed: if he was so vital to the Beatles' rise to
success, why didn't the group's popularity suffer (quite to the
contrary, it mushroomed) after Ringo stepped in? Too, a crucial piece
of information is left out of the documentary that comprises its
objectivity: that just a month before Best was fired, his mother, then
still married to his father, gave birth to a child (Pete's half-brother
Roag) fathered by Aspinall, a boarder in the Best home at the time.
Though still not a well-known incident, this has been documented in
several places, including a book co-authored by Roag Best himself. It
wasn't necessarily a factor in Pete's ouster from the Beatles, but it's
certainly a complication that seems important to have noted.
Also on the DVD are an hour or so of extra features, including
interviews with Kirchherr, Mike Smith (the A&R man who auditioned
the Beatles for Decca Records in January 1962), Andy White (who
replaced Ringo Starr on drums during the sessions for the Beatles'
"Love Me Do" single), and Brian Poole of the Tremolos (the band Decca
chose instead of the Beatles). All of these segments offer something of
interest, although it does seem that memories had dimmed about the
incidents that took place about forty years before the interviews. It
adds to the appeal of a disc that will carry considerable interest for
serious Beatles fans, though less intense devotees of the group might
find it too specialized.
The
Byrds, Another Dimension
(Columbia/Sundazed). As exquisitely packaged as this release of Fifth
Dimension outtakes is—presenting two ten-inch, six-song vinyl
EPs in a
gatefold sleeve—it's really for collectors only, though it doesn't
pretend to be anything else. The first disc offers half a dozen
instrumental backing tracks of alternate takes, two of them for
outtakes that didn't even make the original Fifth Dimension
LP. While there are definite differences to be heard (as well as
an opportunity to focus on/study the instrumental parts without
interference from vocals), most of the tracks aren't radically variant
from the familiar official versions, though it's interesting to hear
some different lead guitar work on "Eight Miles High" (and a
considerably longer solo), as well as a long instrumental version of
"2-4-2 Fox Trot (The Lear Jet Song)" without the sound effects. "John
Riley I" is not merely a
backing track to the "John
Riley" song that appeared on Fifth
Dimension, however; it's a wholly
different, faster, and far more jazz-psychedelicized arrangement, with
some quite interesting Roger McGuinn lead guitar work. It's also about
a minute longer than the version that appears as a Fifth Dimension
CD bonus track; adding all these factors together, it qualifies as the
most interesting item excavated by this album, other than the alternate
"Eight Miles High" backing track.
Disc two contains noticeable variations rather than wholly different
performances, including "John Riley" (the vocal version from the actual
Fifth Dimension LP, which is
entirely different from the "John Riley
I" instrumental) and "Wild Mountain Thyme" without string overdubs; a
slightly longer version of "I See You," without overdubs; a longer
version of "Captain Soul," again without overdubs; a longer version of
"What's Happening?!?!," with a "partial alternate vocal"; and "Hey
Joe," recorded not at the Fifth
Dimension sessions, but for an April
1967 Swedish radio broadcast. So overall, Another Dimension is the
kind of thing you find on bootlegs aimed at highly specialized
collectors, but here given an authorized issue, with the top-notch
sound quality achieved by using the original tapes. The inner gatefold
includes the fascinating transcript of a March 1966 press conference in
which Roger McGuinn and David Crosby discuss the raga-rock pioneered on
the Byrds' "Eight Miles High"/"Why" single; it's actually the most
interesting thing about this release.
Creedence Clearwater
Revival, Bad Moon Rising from
Woodstock to the Albert Hall [DVD] [bootleg] (Wild Wolf Video). In the
absence of an authorized video compilation of Creedence Clearwater
Revival, here's the next best thing: a bootleg DVD with nearly two
hours of footage from 1969 and 1970, most of it in good (though not
perfect) quality color. Almost half of it's devoted to a 12-song
concert at London's Royal Albert Hall on April 14, 1970. That set alone
includes several of their biggest early hits ("Travelin' Band,"
"Fortunate Son," "Proud Mary," "Bad Moon Rising," "Green River") and,
for those hungering for something less familiar, a decent smattering of
early album cuts ("Commotion," "Tombstone Shadow," "Keep on Chooglin',"
"Midnight Special"). Clips from a few 1969 network television shows add
more versions of big early hits, though these look to be largely/wholly
mimed, not live. Though it's not nearly as lengthy as the Royal Albert
Hall portion, the most interesting segment might be three color
outtakes from Woodstock, where they do "Born on the Bayou," "Bad Moon
Rising," and "I Put a Spell on You" with a little more spontaneity than
is evident on the rest of the disc. Also on the DVD are some
not-so-great black-and- white video of a few more Woodstock
performances, and a "Proud Mary" promo film. Complaints? Well, to be
honest, CCR weren't the most exciting visual performers. So while the
music's impeccably tight, it's considerably more impressive and
exciting than the fairly static presentation. Also some of the footage
(including the Royal Albert Hall and color Woodstock sequences)
suffers from imperfections that would probably be ironed out if a
compilation of this sort can be cleared for official release.
Delaney & Bonnie, Delaney & Bonnie and Friends
[DVD] [bootleg] (Silvertone).
When Delaney & Bonnie went to Europe in late 1969, they were able
to appear on television, and most of this bootleg DVD is devoted to
black-and-white footage from a couple programs they did at the time.
The big attraction here is the eight-song set in Copenhagen from
December 1970, where the stage might have sunk from all the weight of
the heavy talent on board. In addition to Delaney Bramlett and Bonnie
Bramlett, there was Eric Clapton on guitar; Carl Radle (bass), Jim
Gordon (drums), and Bobby Whitlock (organ), soon to team up with
Clapton in Derek & the Dominos; and, most surprisingly, George
Harrison on another guitar.
It's a reasonably solid
set of blue-eyed soul-rock, but it has to be said the while Delaney and
Bonnie manage to keep themselves in focus as the featured performers,
Clapton provides the highlight when he steps to the mike to take lead
vocals on "Don't Know Why." It also should be noted that if your
primary interest in this is because of Harrison's presence, that
presence is very low-key. George seems to assume a low profile, not
taking any lead vocals or (apparently) guitar solos; there were really
too many guitars on one stage for him to get too creative in this
context. (And there certainly aren't any Harrison or Beatles songs.)
The video reproduction is watchable, but not great; it's a little
blurry, and one would guess there's got to be a better source tape, or
a better transfer that can be made. Also on the disc are a couple songs
from a German television program in November 1969 (no Harrison there,
though). As "bonus tracks," there are also a couple
decent-quality songs (in color) that Derek & the Dominos did on The Johnny Cash Show in 1970, "It's
Too Late" and (with Cash and
Carl Perkins joining in) "Matchbox."
Bob Dylan, Ten Million in a Week [bootleg] (Hollow Horn). This two-CD
bootleg is the first volume of an eight-volume series of double CDs, Performing Artist, on the Hollow
Horn label. There have been many
attempts to put Dylan's most significant unreleased work into a
chronologically (or more or less chronologically) ordered bootleg
series; there will doubtless be others after this one; and there will
probably be more thorough ones. On its own terms, however, this
particular anthology is a very worthwhile compilation of his very
earliest non-studio recordings, mostly from 1960 and 1961, though four
songs from a 1958 home tape and six from a 1962 home tape are
included. It's a lengthy one, too, each disc filling up to nearly
80-minute capacity, with 67 tracks in total (although some of these are
incomplete fragments). All of the material, in fact, comes from tapes
done in homes or apartments; while the sound quality isn't exactly
outstanding, it's listenable, and the May 1961 tape that takes up all
of disc two actually sounds pretty decent. Aside from the four very
historically interesting, but muffled and sloppy, 1958 rock'n'roll
songs he did at home with friends while in high school, it's all folk
music, and mostly covers. What it does convincingly illustrate is the
pretty amazing breadth of his early traditional folk repertoire,
especially considering this is a guy in or barely out of his teens, at
a time when it wasn't that easy to collect a lot of this stuff on
record all at once. It also offers convincing evidence that, even on
the earliest of the folk tapes here (from May 1960)—a year and a half
before he made his first recordings for Columbia—his style and command
of the folk idiom was falling into place.
There are plenty of good-to-excellent performances here, and as
sacrilegious as it might be to suggest, it might be that Dylan was
never a better instrumentalist than he was on some of these 1961
tracks, playing both guitar and harmonica with real acumen. It's hard
to single out highlights in a program that's so full, but he
particularly excels in some of the bluesier numbers (like "San
Francisco Bay Blues"), and there's a refreshingly appreciable
percentage of tunes with memorable minor melodies, such as "Death Don't
Have No Mercy," "Pastures of Plenty," "The Butcher Boy," and "Trail of
the Buffalo." His early heavy Woody Guthrie influence is apparent in
covers such as "This Land Is Your Land" (two versions, no less). The
deeper, less rough voice he exhibits on the earliest folk tape (from
May 1960) suggests that his trademark higher, more nasal vocal tone was
adopted at least in part through some conscious deliberation. What he hasn't yet developed is his
songwriting, and the few
original tunes here are heavily derivative or semi-improvised. Adding
on the relatively poor recording quality of much of the material on
disc one, this thus couldn't be recommended to the general listener.
Inquisitive Dylan fans, however, will find much to reward the time they
invest with this set, both in terms of its the immense historical
insight it yields as to his early development, and the not
inconsiderable artistic merit of many of the songs.
Bob
Dylan, Like Marlon Brando
[bootleg] (Hollow Horn). Like
Marlon Brando is the second installment in the eight-volume Performing Artist series of bootleg
two-CD sets on the Hollow Horn
label. It's entirely devoted to home tapes and live recordings from
1961, with the exception of three songs from Carnegie Hall on September
22, 1962, presumably included to fill out one of the discs to near-full
capacity. Certainly there's a lot
of unofficial
early Bob Dylan here, each of the two discs offering just under 80
minutes of music. While much of disc one has somewhat subpar sound
fidelity (though it's quite listenable), on the whole the material is
essential to rounding out serious fans' full picture of Dylan's
repertoire as his career got off his ground. Dylan was still singing
few of his own songs at this point, and what few he had were pretty
derivative. But he'd already reached excellence as a folk interpreter,
both in terms of a uniquely powerful, earthy vocal style and the more
overlooked aspects of his dexterous, expressive instrumental work on
guitar and harmonica. Disc one is certainly the lesser of the pair, due
both to the patchy sound and the cobbling together of performances from
four different sources. Even here, though, the renditions of "Gospel
Plow" and "Fixin' to Die" from a November 4, 1961 Carnegie Hall are
penetrating in their intensity.
Disc two, recorded in the apartment of friend Bonnie Beecher in
Minneapolis on December 22, 1961, is justly the most famous of Dylan's
non-studio pre-1962 tapes. While he does a few songs he'd already
recorded for his debut Bob Dylan
album here, the performances are
more intimate, and the 25 tracks allow him to include a number of
worthy songs that didn't make that album. He particularly excels on
some of the bluesiest items, such as a scarifying "Wade in the Water"
(with slicing slide guitar), "It's Hard to Be Blind," another version
of "Gospel Plow," and a thumping "Baby Please Don't Go," which has some
of his most imaginative early guitar work. "Dink's Song," with its
irregular rhythm and commandingly phrased vocal, is one of the best
numbers he didn't record on his early records. Some revisionists go as
far to prefer this over Bob Dylan
itself, though it's not flawless,
particularly when he does his set of songs based around VD. It does,
however, emphasize that the Bob Dylan
LP didn't capture everything
there was to document about the earliest phase of his career, and
the sound (taped by noted fellow folkie Tony Glover) is almost on the
level of what you would have heard on an early-'60s official studio LP.
Of course, this Minneapolis material in particular has been bootlegged
for a long time (some of it even showed up on the first widely
available Dylan bootleg, Great White
Wonder), and many committed
fans might already have much of all of it. But if you're looking for a
good package of that material, supplemented by lesser but interesting
similar stuff from the same era, this bootleg does a good job of
grouping it together.
John Fahey, The Great Santa Barbara Oil Slick
(Water). Most of this 76-minute CD of previously unreleased live
performances was recorded at the Matrix in San Francisco on February
14, 1968; it's uncertain when the rest was done, but the liner notes
guess they were done a year later, in 1969. It's a solid addition to
the John Fahey canon, as the sound is clear and excellent, if drier
than much of his studio work. (It also has its share of dead air
between songs, punctuated by detached and laconic announcements from
the guitarist, though these don't detract from its listenability.) Most
of the material presents concert versions of songs that appeared on
various Fahey LPs in the 1960s, performed with his usual eclectic taste
and virtuosity. And as is customary for much of Fahey's work, it mixes
the blues, Americana, and some experimental ideas without leaning too
heavily on any of those poles. For dedicated Fahey fans, the big find
is the six-minute title track, the only one of these songs not to be
included on any of his his '60s records, though it contains portions of
two compositions ("Requiem for Russell Blaine Cooper" and "Voice of the
Turtle") that appeared on his 1967 album Requia and Other
Compositions for Guitar Solo and his 1971 album America,
respectively. "Dance of the Inhabitants of the Palace of King Philip
XIV of Spain" lasts three minutes longer than the original Fahey
version, too, with some interesting slide guitar work. Otherwise it's
more a testament to Fahey's mastery of the tunes (and the guitar) than
it is an exposure of unsuspected hidden sides of his art, but it's no
less worthy for that.
Joni
Mitchell, BBC in Concert [DVD] [bootleg]
(Checker Entertainment). A bootleg this may be, but you'll be
hard-pressed to find a better early live half-hour video of Joni
Mitchell, done for the BBC on October 9, 1970. Performing solo on
guitar, piano, and (most interestingly, on "California") on zither,
Mitchell presented seven songs from her first four albums. The sound
and image are excellent (and in color), and Mitchell looks happy and at
ease as she delivers the material in fine voice, though she oddly notes
near the end that her pipes are going. Though a few of the songs are
among her most famous early compositions ("Chelsea Morning," "Both
Sides Now," "Big Yellow Taxi"), for the serious fans there are also
some less celebrated early album cuts ("Cactus Tree," "My Old Man,"
"For Free," "California"). The only mild complaints to offer are that
it's too short (her comment to the audience that her voice wouldn't
have allowed her to sing much longer notwithstanding), and that there's
a time code strip on the screen. That latter problem would presumably
be fixable if this could somehow be cleared for official release.
Ennio Morricone, Danger Diabolik (Sycodelic).
One of Ennio Morricone's more obscure soundtracks was done for the 1968
movie Danger Diabolik. Even
many Morricone fans have never heard it,
and it wasn't even all that easy to find as a CD that was issued more
than three decades later. That's unfortunate, as it's an impressive
work, not to mention one of his most maniacal. Many of the Morricone
trademarks are here: lush European sweeping orchestration, sunny
romp-in-the-fields easy listening vocals, ghostly female singing,
vicious twanging surf-spy movie guitar, atonal jazzy shrieks, etc.
Rarely, however, did he throw so many of his identifiers together in
such a concentrated dose, or jump-cut between them so quickly and
unnervingly. To the list above, you can add some hot'n'heavy wordless
sexual moaning, quasi-psychedelic horror movie touches, near-Eastern
drones, and berserk organ playing that sounds like superamplified
popcorn popping. The insertion of lo-fi (and cheesy) dialogue (in
English) between many of the cuts, however, might add to the complete
documentation of the soundtrack, but does impede both the flow of
things and make for a less listenable overall experience. It sounds as
if the music could have been taken from a better source, too. But
despite these drawbacks, it's heartily recommended to Morricone fans,
as well as general admirers of the unfathomably strange.
The
Strawbs, Recollection (Witchwood Media). Recorded live
in 1970 (the exact venue(s) and source(s) are not given), this
68-minute disc is a very good-sounding document of the Strawbs as they
sounded shortly after Rick Wakeman joined the band, and as they were
making their transition from folk-rock to harder progressive-edged
music. Most of the material's from their early albums Strawbs (1969)
and Just a Collection of Antiques
and Curios (1970), and it's
interesting to hear the Strawbs
songs in particular undergo some
rearrangement to integrate Wakeman's classical-influenced keyboards.
Wakeman's contributions are very much at the forefront throughout the
tracks, in fact, especially on his instrumental "Temperament of Mind."
But they're always a factor in taking the group further away from their
folk base into something artier, with a lengthy solo on a nine-minute
"Where Is This Dream of Your Youth?," for instance, that makes the tune
quite different from the sparer studio treatment. As for rarities of
interest to hardcore Strawbs fans, there's a version of "We'll Meet
Again Sometime," a song the group didn't put on their early albums,
though Dave Cousins put it on his 1972 album Two Weeks Last Summer,
and the banjo-organ-dominated instrumental "Dance On" (originally a hit
for, of all people, the Shadows), which had never been previously
included on any Strawbs or Strawbs-related release. Most listeners will
be most pleased, however, by the well-sung, well-played, and
well-recorded renditions of some of their more familiar early songs,
such as "The Antique Suite," "The Battle," "Where Is This Dream of Your
Youth?," "Josephine, for Better or for Worse," and "The Man Who Called
Himself Jesus."
23rd Turnoff, The Dream of Michaelangelo
(RPM). Although this 21-track compilation is credited to 23rd Turnoff,
in fact it's a combination of recordings by the Kirkbys, the mid-1960s
Merseybeat group led by Jimmy Campbell, and the 23rd Turnoff, the more
psychedelic band they evolved into in 1967. It reveals Campbell as
perhaps the most unheralded talent to come out of the Liverpool '60s
rock scene, as he was a songwriter capable of both spinning out
engaging Merseybeat and—unlike almost every other artist from the city,
with the notable exception of the Beatles—making the transition to
quality dreamy psychedelia. Both sides of all three of the Kirkbys'
1965-66 singles are here, a well as a bunch of unreleased recordings
and outtakes by the group, all written or co-written by Campbell. While
there's no obvious hit among them, they're catchy, Beatles-influenced
tracks, showing some folk-rock and Revolver
influence on the later
efforts. The 23rd Turnoff material is more adventurous, though still
retaining Campbell's knack for solid vocal harmony-driven melodies,
"Flowers Are Flowering" sounding very much like Roger McGuinn singing Revolver material. "Michael
Angelo," the A-side of the sole 23rd
Turnoff single, is certainly the highlight, and indeed a highlight of
1967 British psychedelia as a whole in its hazy bittersweet swirl; you
also get not one, but two unreleased studio versions of the same tune
as well. It seems as if Campbell needed just a bit more encouragement,
and his groups just a little more studio time, to develop into a
notable British psychedelic group that could combine solid pop
melodies, sophisticated lyrics and arrangements, and touches of
English whimsy. Unfortunately they didn't get that chance, but what's
here is satisfying on its own terms, bolstered by thorough liner notes
explaining the complicated Campbell/Kirkbys/23rd Turnoff saga.
The Velvet
Underground, Ultimate Mono &
Acetates Album [bootleg] (Nothing Songs Limited). This
three-CD set is indeed what the title bills it as, with rare mono
versions of several of their LPs and singles, as well as a few items
taken from acetates. There's only one portion, however, that's of truly
outstanding interest if you want to hear genuinely alternate versions,
but don't care too much about stereo/mono mix differences. This is the
"acetate version" of The Velvet
Underground & Nico, which
according to the track listing is "taken from Moe Tucker's acetate
EPs." These seem to be the same tracks that appear on the acetate
(missing two of the songs that ended up on the official LP, "There She
Goes Again" and "Sunday Morning") that was widely reported in rock
collector publications in 2004 and 2005 to have been discovered at a
yard sale in New York. While a few of the cuts simply use the same take
as the official versions with a not-radically-different mix, "Heroin,"
"I'm Waiting for the Man," "European Son," and "Venus in Furs" are
completely different takes. The arrangements are similar, but there are
noticeable variations that intense Velvet Underground fans will
appreciate. Like, for instance, the lyric "shit" in "Heroin"—no one was
going to get away with that on a commercial release in 1967, not even
Andy Warhol and the VU. On another track, Lou Reed sings the lyric "I'm
waiting for the man," not
"I'm waiting for my man,"
thus finally (possibly) solving the mystery
of why the track was titled "I'm Waiting for the Man" on the released
LP. That song has a bluesier guitar solo than the released version as
well, which also holds true for "European Son." Plus, while "Femme
Fatale" and "I'll Be Your Mirror" are the same takes, the mixes are
substantially different, with much higher background vocal harmonies on
the former, and no echo on Nico's lead vocals on the latter.
Admittedly, these aren't the kind of revelations that will excite the
general listener, and even for fanatics, the very scratchy surface
noise from the acetate is a substantial drawback. (Not to mention the
point where the needle gets stuck on the acetate, faithfully replicated
on the CD, and the inaccurately sequenced track listing on the back
cover.) But The Velvet Underground
& Nico is a monumentally
important album, and thus this acetate version is worthy of serious
attention by serious fans of the band, even if the differences are
largely minor.
The rest of the material—and there's a lot of it, adding up to more
than two CDs' worth—is more reserved for the true fanatic. There are
mono versions of the entire White
Light/White Heat and Loaded
LPs; mono versions of the "White Light/White Heat"/"Here She Comes
Now," "What Goes On"/"Jesus," and "Who Loves the Sun"/"Oh Sweet
Nothin'" 45s; single mono versions of "All Tomorrow's Parties," "I'll
Be Your Mirror," "Sunday Morning," and "Femme Fatale," taken from the
"promotional only US release EP mono version"; and four songs from The Velvet Underground that are,
say the track listings, "taken from
Sterling Morrison's acetate EPs," "found in Sterling's closet after his
death." You'll have to strain pretty hard to hear significant
differences between all of this stuff and the familiar versions, and
the surface noise on much of it—obviously dubbed from original
vinyl—doesn't help. It would have been better had the "acetate version"
of The Velvet Underground & Nico
been released on its own disc,
rather than included as part of an expensive three-CD set, but
bootleggers (and official labels, it should be noted) have never been
known for catering to such conveniences. Even if that acetate of the
first album is your primary interest, however, this will still cost you
a lot less (and is far more accessible) than the original copy, one of
the costliest rare rock records in existence.
The Velvet Underground,
Under Review [DVD] (Sexy
Intellectual). If you're going to do a Velvet Underground documentary
without interviews of Lou Reed or John Cale (or key figures who were no
longer living at the time this was done, including Nico, Sterling
Morrison, and, except in a brief archive clip, Andy Warhol), you're
already at a considerable disadvantage. Yet this surprisingly decent
85-minute production does a better job than could be expected. There
are first-hand, lengthy interviews with actual band members Moe Tucker
and Doug Yule; Norman Dolph, who played an overlooked key role in
recording the group's classic debut album, The Velvet Underground and
Nico; Warhol factory mainstay Billy Name; and a number of
established
rock critics/Velvet Underground experts. There are also clips (though
brief, and sometimes just used as silent backdrop) of the Velvets
actually playing in the 1960s, taken from art films by Warhol and
others, along with vintage photos and tantalizingly brief excerpts of a
concert Reed, Cale, and Nico did together in the early 1970s. While the
narration might not provide the most exhaustive background information
about the group and their members, the critical commentary is fairly
astute, dealing with each of their four principal albums in reasonable
depth. Some good stories that aren't overly familiar emerge, too, like
Yule admitting he didn't know that "Candy Says" (which he sang) was
about transvestite Candy Darling; Tucker noting how glad she was that
Reed and Yule later told her they should have waited until she was able
to participate in Loaded
before recording it; and Dolph remembering
the sessions in which he participated for The Velvet Underground and
Nico. The extras include about 12 interesting minutes of
outtakes from
the interviews and a 25-question "The Hardest Velvets' Interactive Quiz
in the World Ever." It's a small beef, but it should be noted that this
quiz is not all that hard for Velvets experts, and—less
forgivably—lists some incorrect answers.
The Who, Purple Hearts and Power Chords: The Who on
Film 1965-1969 [DVD] [bootleg] (Hiwatt). Before this
release, several other bootleg DVDs had compiled 1960s Who footage,
with varying degrees of success. It's difficult, however, to imagine a
better, more comprehensive one than this two-DVD collection, which
assembles almost four hours of live, mimed, promo, interview, and
documentary clips from various sources. The image and sound quality are
usually as good as, or better than, what's seen or heard on those
previous compilations, and most of clips appear in the most complete
form known to exist. There are a wealth of riches here, from relatively
common (at least to the people who collect this sort of thing) items
such as their 1965 Ready Steady Go
and Richmond Jazz Festival
appearances to some little-seen sequences such as their mimed June 1966
appearance on the Swedish Popside
show; a live July 1966 London
college gig, including a not-too-audible version of "C.C. Rider"; the Monterey Pop film outtake "Pictures
of Lily"; live and interview
footage from Helsinki, Finland in May 1967; and promotional films for Tommy, linked by a few interview
segments in which Pete Townshend
explains the songs. There's even the US promo film for "Substitute," in
which they mimed the amended lyrics (omitting the reference to a black
father) in the American 45 version.
It doesn't gather every last scrap of 1960s Who footage: there's
nothing from their Woodstock
appearance, and their famous violent
performance of "My Generation" on The
Smothers Brothers in 1967 is
missing the end bit where Townshend smashes Tommy Smothers' guitar.
Some of the portions are obviously lifted from sources that are easily
accessible via commercial releases such as The Kids Are Alright, Monterey Pop, and The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus,
and no
doubt some of the clips could have been presented in better condition
if this was an authorized production. The likelihood of such a thorough
authorized compilation seems distant, however, leaving the gap for
bootlegs such as this to exploit. Despite those very minor
shortcomings, it's an amazing document, and totals up to the most
convincing evidence ever assembled as to the Who's mesmerizing power as
a visual performance act.
Neil Young, Live at the BBC 1971 + Ritz, New York 1981
[bootleg] [DVD] (Mainstream
Visions). Neil Young's half-hour, eight-song BBC February 1971 color
television broadcast takes up the majority of this bootleg DVD, and
there's no better visual record of the singer-songwriter's early solo
work. Here he plays and sings literally solo, with no accompaniment
other than acoustic guitar, piano, and harmonica. Some of his best
songs of the period are here ("Old Man," "Heart of Gold," "Don't Let It
Bring You Down," "A Man Needs a Maid"), as well as less overly familiar
(and therefore welcome) material ("Out on the Weekend," "Journey
Through the Past," "Love in Mind," "Dance, Dance, Dance"). Young sings
and plays brilliantly, and while there's not much between-song
interaction with the audience, it's engagingly goofy and friendly.
Although this is an unauthorized release, the video transfer is very
good, though a tell-tale small circled "Trio" logo that appears
throughout in the lower right-hand corner makes one suspect this was
taken from a videotaped rebroadcast, not the original source. The four
songs from 1981 are far less noteworthy on several accounts. First,
it's not a Neil Young gig; Young was guesting with the Danny Shea Band
and only taking lead vocals on one number, a cover of Jimmy Reed's
"Baby What You Want Me to Do" (though he does play guitar and add
backup vocals during the rest of the performance). Second, the grainy
video is jumpy and somewhere between amateur and professional in
execution. Also, the other three songs are all blues/rock'n'roll
covers, including Guitar Slim's "The Things That I Used to Do" (which
at least does have a Young guitar solo) and Chuck Berry's "Sweet Little
Rock'n'Roller" and "Nadine." At least it shows that Young's bar-band
inclinations were evident long before he embraced them whole hog for
his 1988 album This Note's For You.
Various Artists, Going Underground: Underground Treasures
Vol. 1: 1969-1976 [bootleg] [DVD] (Missing in Action
Archives). When the back cover blurb of this approximately hour-long
DVD of vintage progressive rock proclaims "rare footage gathered from
all over the world," it's no idle boast. Even many prog-rock
aficionados, it's fair to say, will have not even heard of some or all
of these artists, coming as they all apparently do from outside
English-speaking lands. When a disc leads off with not one but several
clips of Argentinean bands (Color Humano, Vox Dei, Orion's Beethoven,
and Sui Generis), you know
hard-core collectors have
been at work. Too bad they didn't work so diligently as to identify the
origins of the bands on the DVD itself, or for that matter give any
other information about them (even the song titles) or the scenes in
which they're shown. But it can be ascertained that groups from Finland
(including Wigwam, perhaps the biggest name here), Sweden (Träd,
Gräs och Stenar leading that nation's way), Denmark, and even
Iceland (Thor's Hammer) are also represented. Understandably, not all
of the clips (some obviously taken from television appearances, others
from live festival-like settings) are in great shape, but it's all
watchable, and some of the footage has been preserved quite well. The
music's another matter, perhaps even if prog's your thing. These
outfits aren't going to make anyone forget the best British (or even
German and Italian) masters of the form, and while there are plenty of
ambitious song structures and instrumental virtuosity, there's a
shortage of memorable compositions. In that respect, it's a testament
to just how eccentric the most progressive wing of rock music was
getting by the early-to-mid-'70s, to the point of almost proud
inaccessibility in some cases. Sui Generis does approximate
prog-influenced pop-rock with folk-rock harmonies on their bit, and
Thor's Hammer are likewise fairly song-oriented, but much of the rest
makes you wonder how the musicians (and audiences) could have followed
along with such obtuse, ponderous melodies—which is not necessarily a
compliment. The performances are more straightforward than colorful,
but if you are looking to zero in on the oddest slice, the high-pitched
wordless scatting of the singer in Trettioariga Kriget gives Focus a
run for its money in eerieness.
Various Artists, Out There: Wild and Wondrous Roots of
Rock'n'Roll (Viper). It's now well known, even by many
listeners who don't read music history books, that rock'n'roll had deep
roots in numerous popular music styles that had previously evolved over
the course of the first half of the twentieth century. There have even
been numerous various-artists CD anthologies collecting pre-1955 songs
that seemed to anticipate or even influence the birth of rock'n'roll
itself. What sets this 20-song compilation aside from most of those,
however, is that most such collections emphasize the decade or so
before rock'n'roll took off in the mid-1950s. This disc has some such
recordings, but goes all the way back to the early 1920s in search of
rock'n'roll antecedents. It also, instead of wholly emphasizing blues,
R&B, and maybe some country swing/hillbilly (as most such projects
do), goes all over the map in its exposure of streams that fed into the
rock'n'roll kaleidoscope. So you get not just the expected country
blues (Charley Patton's "High Water Everywhere Part 1"), country boogie
(Maddox Brothers and Rose's "Shimmy Shakin' Daddy"), and songs with
obvious early uses of rock'n'roll lingo (Buddy Jones' "Rockin', Rollin'
Mama"). There's also hypnotically eerie Native American traditional
music (the Yaqui Tribe's "Deer Dance"), Hawaiian steel guitar (Kanui
and Lula's "Tomi Tomi"), a mid-1930s Nigerian precursor to
highlife (Tunde King's "Oba Oyinbo"), calypso (Wilmouth Houdini's
"African Love Call"), and Tex-Mex border balladry (Lydia Mendoza's
"Pero Hay Que Triste").
On a few early-'50s tracks toward the end, the journey toward something
identifiably close to rock'n'roll becomes more apparent: Muddy Waters'
instrumental "Evans Shuffle" isn't far from Cream's "Train Time," Arkie
Shibley and His Mountain Dew Boys' "Dusty Blossom Boogie" is paving the
way for rockabilly, and Cecil Gant's "Rock Little Baby" is straight
boogie R&B. The set's greatest value, however, is in illustrating
within a limited space just how wide rock'n'roll's roots were, without
getting academic about it. These might be more rock'n'roll in spirit
than in actual concrete style, but it's quite enjoyable and rollicking
even if you don't have a scholarly interest in tracing musical
evolution. If you do have academic inclinations as well, the set's
well-annotated, and is heartily recommended to both collectors and
general enthusiasts looking for something more vivacious than the usual
anthology along these lines.
Various Artists, The Return of Mod Jazz
(Ace). It took about five years for Ace to get from the fourth volume
to the fifth one in its Mod Jazz
series, but this 2005 compilation
upholds the high standards set by its predecessors. The two dozen
tracks represent 1960s jazz at its most accessible and dance-oriented,
often (though not always) emphasizing groovy organ parts and swinging
piano, mixing instrumentals with some vocal numbers. It's not the kind
of stuff they'll teach in jazz history courses, but as for fun modern
jazz with liberal blues, soul, and pop influences, it's hard to beat.
As per Ace's formula, although a bunch of the names are well known
(Gene McDaniels, Timmy Thomas, George Benson, Mongo Santamaria, Bill
Doggett, Johnny Otis, Pucho & His Latin Soul Brothers, and Oscar
Brown Jr.), none of the tracks selected by those artists are overly
familiar. As for the rest of the cuts (save Mose Allison's "I Love the
Life I Live"), it's doubtful that many outside hardcore collectors of
this stuff have heard them. That doesn't mean, however, that the
numbers by the relative unknowns are inferior, and in fact some of them
rate among the disc's highlights. Googie Rene Combo's "Wild Bird,"
offers some ultra-tense, ultra-tight spooky choked organ; Kenny Rice
& Leo's Five's "Hold It" has some real hot organ-R&B guitar
interplay; and the Dave Davani Four's "Top of the Pops" can't fail to
evoke the most jazz-oriented side of mid-'60s mod Swinging London. Of
the other sides, Timmy Thomas' "Have Some Boogaloo," which predates his
famous soul hit "Why Can't We Live Together" by a good five years, is a
near-instrumental with garage jazz (if such a term exists) organ that
shows a much different side of his music.
Various Artists, Unearthed Merseybeat Vol. 3: The Dawn of a
New Era 1957-1968 (Viper). The third volume in the Unearthed Merseybeat series follows
the same pattern as the previous
two editions, with twenty rare, mostly unreleased cuts whose value
might be more archival than purely musical. There's some genuinely good
music here, though, and even what isn't so good helps illuminate the
dustier corners of the Merseybeat sound, which encompassed more than
just the Beatles or bands playing in what most people think of as the
Merseybeat style. If you do like that Merseybeat style, however,
there's some of that here, and generally they're the best tracks on the
CD. The Kinsleys, a spin-off of the Merseybeats, offer some archetypal
catchy, innocuous Merseybeat with the 1964 recording "Do Me a Favour,"
which the Swinging Blue Jeans would rework a little later for their
single "Promise You'll Tell Her." The Merseybeats themselves are
represented by a good 1965 outtake of "Soldier of Love," though it
isn't nearly as good as the Beatles' 1963 BBC version. Both of these
tracks are in excellent studio quality, but Gerry & the Pacemakers'
1961 recording "Pretend," like some of the other material here, is
taken from a muffled, lo-fi source. The same thing goes for the two
cuts by the only other group here to have hits in the US, the Swinging
Blue Jeans, which were cut live in 1960.
Of the remaining songs, the best are the two psychedelic ones by Jimmy
Campbell ("Michaelangelo") and his group the 23rd Turnoff ("Flowers Are
Flowering"), which are among the few relics that show a Liverpool '60s
band other than the Beatles convincingly moving into psychedelic pop.
Some of the other tracks verge on the purely documentary in value,
whether presenting average rock'n'roll covers or generic if modestly
enjoyable early Merseybeat (the Four Originals, the Connoisseurs, Steve
Day & the Kinsmen). Rarities by a couple more interesting names,
however, are on hand with just-ex-Searchers-drummer Chris Curtis'
unissued 1966 track "(Baby) You Don't Have to Tell Me" (shelved when
the Walker Brothers issued the same song) and the Merseys' 1966 cover
of Sam Cooke's "Nothing Can Change This Love." Like the other volumes
in this series, this one is given comprehensive liner notes explaining
the origins of these obscurities.
ALBUM REVIEWS: A SELECTION OF RECENT RELEASES, SPRING 2006:
CLICK HERE FOR WINTER 2005-2006 ALBUM REVIEWS
Charles
Blackwell and His Orchestra, Those
Plucking Strings (RPM). Arranged by Charles Blackwell and
produced by the legendary Joe Meek, the instrumental LP Those
Plucking Strings was originally planned for release on Meek's
own
short-lived Triumph label in May 1960. Triumph went out of business in
1960, however, and Those Plucking
Strings didn't come out until this
2006 CD. Almost certainly this was mastered from the test pressing that
turned up in April 1997 at a London record shop, not the original
tapes, as there's some audible sonic imperfection (although this
doesn't seriously impair its listenability). As you'd expect from a
Meek-brainstormed instrumental album, the driving concept is pretty
quirky, setting skiffle songs (which were already out of fashion in the
UK) to orchestral arrangements with mild pop-rock touches. So it is you
get to hear classics like "Lonesome Traveller," "Rock Island Line,"
"Kisses Sweeter Than Wine," "Freight Train," and "Pick a bale O'Cotton"
played with an almost raw energy by pizzicato violins, cellos, and
violas, the rock quotient added by drummer Andy White (famous for
playing on the Beatles' "Love Me Do" single) and guitarist Eric Ford
(later to play on Donovan's "Sunshine Superman"). It's unavoidably
cheesy, yet at the same time it has a ridiculous energy that's
appealing in spite of itself. The strings dance through the songs with
real verve, the guitar and drums add some propulsive grit, and the
tempos often accelerate like a freight train with failing brakes.
Meek's hand can definitely be heard via the dense concentration of
instrumentation and considerable echo on the violins, and there are
definite similarities between these tracks and the orchestral backings
he'd oversee on many of his 1960s singles (like Heinz's "Dreams Do Come
True," for one). Plus the songs really are catchy. As contrived as the
whole project was, it's a likable guilty pleasure, for (or, perhaps at
least in part, because of) all its silliness and rushed-sounding
execution.
Graham Bond,
Singles & Rarities Vol. 1
[bootleg] (Rock-In-Beat). While the appearance of rare Graham
Bond material is welcome in any context, it must be acknowledged that
this bootleg is a pretty patchy collection of odds and ends from his
early recording career, much of which has actually been available on
official CD reissue. There's little here that hasn't been officially
issued at all, the big find being a version of "Wade in the Water"
that's identified as originating from a 1963 EMI audition. It's
actually not as good as the official versions of the song that Bond
recorded later in the '60s, particularly as saxophonist Dick
Heckstall-Smith does not appear on the track, but it's an interesting
early relic nonetheless. After that cut opens the CD, the disc presents
six sides on which the Graham Bond Quartet backed the fine, underrated
British blues-rock singer Duffy Power. These numbers are okay (though
not great), but all but one of them (an alternate version of "Farewell
Baby") appeared on the legit 2002 Power CD compilation Leapers and
Sleepers. And while the three subsequent live June 1963
recordings,
which are pure jazz, are interesting, they were issued long ago on the Solid Bond LP compilation—not an
easy thing to find nowadays,
admittedly, but something that anyone likely to spring for a Bond
bootleg in the first place might already own. Rounding things off are
four fair, if unremarkable, rhythm-and-blues instrumentals from a rare
mid-'60s EP by Jamaican guitarist Ernst Ranglin, on which Bond's band
(billed as the GBs) served as the backup musicians. The packaging on
the CD is minimal, further confining its value to completist collectors.
Kiki Dee, Love Makes the World Go Round: The Motown
Years (Universal). This 18-track compilation includes
everything from Dee's early-'70s Motown album Great Expectations, as
well as two additional tracks from her time with the label that
surfaced on the rare budget Kiki Dee
album in 1974, along with four
previously unreleased 1969-70 outtakes. While it's good to have this
fairly rare material thoughtfully combined into one package, it
reinforces the sense that neither Motown nor Dee realized the potential
from their unusual association. Part of the problem is that there are
too many undistinguished cover versions that can't help but suffer in
comparison with the classic hit interpretations -- not only of songs
made famous by fellow Motown artists like Stevie Wonder and the
Miracles, but also hits by Dionne Warwick, Jackie DeShannon, Dusty
Springfield, and Deon Jackson. Also, however, Dee's voice just isn't as
powerful or imbued with character as those of Motown's top talents, and
there's sometimes a sense of listening to an understudy for Dusty
Springfield, albeit a competent one. So it's more pleasant than it is
essential, though it's certainly pleasing enough if you're looking for
enjoyable generic examples of the late-'60s Motown sound, albeit with a
white British singer rather than a black Detroit one. Occasionally,
too, she gets a chance to sink her teeth into some more satisfyingly
adventurous material, like the luscious "Oh Be My Love" (co-written by
Smokey Robinson) and the uncommonly stark (for Motown) ballad "Jimmy."
Floor,
First Floor
(Radioactive).
The only album by the Danish band the Floor is heavily derivative of
1967 British pop-psychedelia, to the point where most knowledgeable
listeners would simply assume the musicians were British if not
informed otherwise. There are observational story-songs; upbeat
pop-rockers with a mild vaudevillian/music hall bounce, a la some of
the work from the period by the Beatles and the Kinks;
baroque-classical-tinged strings; some flower-power-tinged lyrics; and
an eclecticism that runs from relatively straight rock to
self-consciously arty compositions. It might not be the most original
piece of work, in the quite literal as well as musical sense, since
none of the songs were written by the band, unless some of the
songwriting credits were pseudonymous. But it's nonetheless decent,
tuneful material with some attractive vocal harmonies, and more varied
than many such records from the time. Some of the tracks are
forgettable, yet others are a fair ways above average, including the
delicately folky "Hush," which has a beguiling winding melody, and
"Thinking Mr. Jones," whose "I'm Only Sleeping"-like backwards guitar
features prominently in a tale of domestic infidelity that's very
English in its gentility. "A Rainbow Around Us" rocks harder than most
of the album, and is one of its highlights, with its mixture of sunny
pop harmonies and well-oiled British Invasion/folk-rock-influenced
jangling guitar.
Dorris Henderson with
John Renbourn, Watch the Stars
(Fledg'ling). The second and final record Dorris Henderson did with
guitarist John Renbourn sharing billing as accompanist, 1967's Watch
the Stars, was similar in most respects to the first, 1965's There
You Go. Again, it matched the American folk singer's strong,
emotive
voice to Renbourn's excellent picking, through the guitar work isn't as
flashy or striking as what he'd play on subsequent Pentangle and solo
releases. A little texture is added via contributions by bassist Danny
Thompson (who of course went on to play and record with Renbourn in
Pentangle) and guitarist Tim Walker (who also wrote one of the better
tracks, "It's Been a Long Time"). The material was a little more
adventurous than the largely traditional debut had been; there were a
few traditional folk songs here, but also covers of material by Bob
Dylan, Hedy West, and British folk singer Anne Briggs, as well as a few
originals by Henderson herself. To its credit, it includes some
material which is more moodily melodic than much folk of the time.
"Mosaic Patterns" (co-written by Henderson and Briggs) and "Gonna Tell
My Lord" (written by Henderson alone) are particular standouts in that
respect, the latter featuring some of her most stirring, spiritual
vocals. The 2005 CD reissue adds, as a bonus track, the non-LP 1967
single "Message to Pretty," a cover of a song from Love's first album.
Unlike everything else on the record, it's actual electric folk-rock,
though it wasn't as good as the original, with a vocal that was a shade
too melodramatic.
John
Lennon, D.J. Winston O'Boogie:
WNEW-FM [bootleg]
(Unicorn). This two-CD bootleg might not be a proper John Lennon
recording, or something of interest to anyone but diehard enthusiasts.
But for what it is -- a good-quality tape of Lennon's guest DJ spot on
WNEW-FM in New York on September 28, 1974, the commercials thoughtfully
edited to a minimum -- it's pretty good and entertaining. There are no
unique Lennon musical performances here, although some of his records
are played. Instead, you hear him banter with DJ Dennis Elsas; talk
about his own records and career, both solo and with the Beatles; and
hear him introduce and play a few of his favorite oldies, including the
obscure nuggets "Watch Your Step" (by Bobby Parker) and "Some Other
Guy" (by Richie Barrett). Lennon sounds pretty upbeat and happy to be
there, perhaps because his Walls and
Bridges album was about to hit
the shots, and he was eager to talk about and promote the LP (which he
did, playing and discussing several of its cuts). Most interesting,
however, are the opportunities to hear John talk about some topics that
didn't come up in interviews often, whether it's his rather dismissive
rating of the Yardbirds (Jeff Beck excepted); his disclosure that the
opening passage of "Some Other Guy" is similar to the intro to "Instant
Karma"; and the revelation that he was a fan of some of the Electric
Light Orchestra's early records. Elsas keeps him engaged with an
appropriate balance of questions and comments; it doesn't even annoy
Lennon when, as is inevitable, he's briefly quizzed about the prospects
of a Beatles reunion. While there's more conversation than music on
these discs, you also hear, in their entirety, the records they play,
whether by the Beatles, Lennon, the oldies Lennon brought to the
station, or, most unexpectedly, Splinter (produced by George Harrison).
It's a nice souvenir of one of Lennon's most open interactions with the
listening public during his solo years.
Miriam
Makeba, Her Essential Recordings:
The Empress of African Song [DVD] (Manteca). The packaging on
this 40-song, two-CD anthology of this major South African artist—most
of it taken from recordings spanning the mid-1950s to late 1960s,
though there are a few from the 1970s too—leaves something to be
desired. The tracks are sequenced so that they jump back and forth
chronologically, and while there are well-written liner notes of decent
length, the song listings themselves do not spell out the dates and
sources for each recording. That makes it necessary to cumbersomely
shift back and forth between the notes and listings to figure out what
part of Miriam Makeba's career's being represented by what's coming
through the speakers. Whether or not you're one to get bugged by such
details, however, there's no denying that this set does contain a lot of good music,
even if its
sampling is rather scattershot. Her most famous recording, her 1967 hit
version of "Pata Pata," is here, but some tracks go all the way back to
mid-1950s South African recordings with the Manhattan Brothers. Again,
chronological sequencing would have really helped, but taken all
together, you do get a sense of the considerable ground she covered in
the 1950s and 1960s, from somewhat dated (but charmingly hokey)
jazz-pop backings to earthy rhythmic recordings that drew considerably
more from indigenous South African styles. There are also hints of
Latin music, torch jazz songs, duets with Harry Belafonte, gospel, and
even a bit of rock'n'roll. The constants, however, are Makeba's
reliably mellifluous, spirited vocals, as well as (with only a few
exceptions) a fine eye for integrating South African folk and popular
styles with some Western pop sensibilities. It might not be the most
coherently assembled Makeba compilation, but you'd have a hard time
beating it for the amount of diverse quality music it stuffs into two
discs.
Judy Mayhan,
When I Think of You
(Shayomi). Though a talented singer-songwriter, Judy Mayhan has only
sporadically been able to release records. This archive release of
previously unissued material, largely recorded in January 1979 (though
three live tracks were done in March 1977), helps fill out both her
discography and listeners' picture of her stylistic range. For while
she's primarily thought of as a folk or folk-rock musician, Mayhan's
singing and writing also encompasses jazz, pop, and mildly experimental
shadings. The studio sides in particular are impressive: sparsely
produced with a haunting, slightly reverberant atmosphere, they
sound more like they were done in the 1960s than the late '70s, so free
of 1970s slicknesss is the ambience. While her cover of Jimmy Webb's
"The Moon Is a Marsh Mistress" is about as close as she gets to the
mainstream, the wordless "The Bells" is something you might expect to
find on an avant-garde album, her chilling wordless vocals backed only
by chimes. At other moments, she sounds like a hip torch singer; on
some originals ("Nobody's Home"), like a slightly dark early-'70s
singer-songwriter. Most of the time, there's no instrumental backing
save her own piano playing (and, on a couple of the live performances,
bass). But her folkie roots resurface on the cover of Richard
Fariña's "Swallow Song," where she switches to banjo, and which
sounds just as stark and simply produced as any early-to-mid-'60s folk
revival recording, though this too was done in 1979. It's the most
memorable song on the disc, performed with an ageless scary conviction,
though the warmer piano-based tracks have their merit as well. As an
obscure reference point, those who enjoy the proficient yet
slightly off-kilter, disquieting style of jazz singer Patty Waters
might enjoy this too, though Mayhan is more conventional and accessible
than Waters.
McKinley
Mitchell, The Town I Live In
(RPM/Shout). All of the material McKinley Mitchell cut for the small
One-Derful label is on this 24-cut compilation, including everything he
put on 1962-64 singles for the company; LP-only items from the sole
album he did for the label; three songs that didn't show up until they
were issued on a Japanese LP; and two alternate takes. While Mitchell
may be a fairly minor '60s soul singer, within that category, he's one
of the better ones, combining more-melancholy-than-usual gospel-fire
soul with shades of blues, jazz, and pop. Too, although he recorded
until 1985, this is certainly his most significant work. While he does
recall Bobby Blue Bland on many of the sides, it's not in a blatantly
imitative way. And if the arrangements likewise often look to popular
trends in the early days of soul -- "Tell It Like It Is" is a little
like early-'60s Motown, and "I Found an Angel" like Sam Cooke --
they're very well done. His R&B hit ballad "The Town I Live In" is
an obvious standout, but there are numerous other fine songs, like its
B-side "No Love (Like My Love)," on which he sounds rather like Howlin'
Wolf gone slightly soul-pop. "You're Not Gonna Break My Heart" is about
as raw as early-'60s soul got, though a smoother more Bland-ish style
was more typical for the singer. Sometimes the songs were too obviously
derivative -- "Watch Over Me" of the Miracles' "You Really Got a Hold
on Me," for instance. But on the whole it's worthwhile stuff, from the
era just before soul got codified into a more recognizable popular
music style.
Clive
Palmer, Banjoland (Sunbeam). Although he was part
of the Incredible String Band when they recorded their debut album in
1966, Clive Palmer left the group after its release, largely vanishing
into obscurity. He did keep recording and performing, however, and in
late 1967, he recorded this solo album, produced by Peter Eden (who had
been involved in Donovan's early management and productoin). Eden
couldn't find a label to release it, and the material didn't come out
until it was rescued for this 2005 CD reissue. Though its archaic,
acoustic folk was, as Eden states in the liner notes, "wonderfully at
odds with what the rest of the world was preoccupied with at the time,"
it's a surprisingly good listen. While all of the songs were
traditional tunes (sometimes from quite ancient sources), it's not at
all a stodgy revivalist exercise. It's hard to finger why this projects
more charm and liveliness than many a similar folk revival recording,
but it certainly does. There's a droll irreverence to Palmer's
arrangements, banjo playing, and dry vocals, even though he apparently
didn't bother to change the gender for passages that seem intended to
have been sung by women. He also invests some songs, such as
"Ma-Koush-La," "I Hear You Calling Me," and "Smiling Through," with an
inviting bittersweet melancholy. There are virtually no nods to rock or
pop in the production, but it's not solely Palmer and his banjo; Wizz
Jones adds guitar occasionally, and "Stories of Jesus," far less
expectedly, is graced with a string quartet. While this isn't
incredibly similar to the Incredible String Band's work, it should
appeal to many ISB fans, and isn't really that far
removed from the ISB's more traditional folk-based stuff, which was
heard more on the sole album they did with Palmer in the lineup than on
anything else they recorded. The CD adds four quite tasty bonus tracks,
two of them being country-swing-oriented Palmer-Jones duets from a
late-'60s BBC radio program, the others recorded by the pair at Jones'
house in late 1967.
The
Rolling Stones, Touring History Vol.
5: Rare Video
1964-1968 [DVD] [bootleg] (Bad Wizard). This bootleg DVD
compilation of
performance clips from the Rolling Stones' career might not be complete
or technically top-notch. But there's a lot of material -- almost two
hours' worth -- and of the numerous unauthorized vintage Stones
compilations, it's one of the better ones, if frustratingly imperfect.
It includes some of their most significant early television
appearances, such as their early-'64 live presentation of "I Wanna Be
Your Man" and "You Better Move On," which seems to be the earliest
footage of the band that's circulated; their infamous 1964 appearance
on Dean Martin's variety show; their exciting spot at the 1964 NME
Pollwinners' Concert; and their 1965 Shindig
"(I Can't Get No)
Satisfaction," their first live performance of that classic. Less
excitingly, there are also numerous less compelling mid-'60s clips that
were mimed to records; promo films for "We Love You," "2000 Light Years
Away," "Jumpin' Jack Flash," and "Child of the Moon"; and their portion
of The Rolling Stones Rock'n'Roll
Circus, which, while good, is
easily available on official DVD. While the overall quality's decent,
there are also the usual not-quite-impeccable transfers common to
bootleg product, as well as some clipped beginnings and endings. As
entertaining as it is, it emphasizes the need for a legitimate discs,
or discs, that would anthologize this material with the technological
quality it deserves. There is one brief but amusing clip that will
probably never show up on anything official, though: a 1964 cereal
commercial for which the Stones provided the jingle (which is
surprisingly bluesy and rowdy).
Bob Seger, Lookin' Back (The Limited
Edition Company/Hall of Fame Recordings). Accurately subtitled "20
Early Seger Rarities On Compact Disc!," this brings together many of
Bob Seger's hardest-to-find tracks from the first five years or so of
his recording career, spanning 1966-71. The problem is that it's not
exactly an authorized production, as its limited availability, sketchy
liner notes, and lack of a catalog number make clear. Nonetheless, it does exist on a CD, the label given
as "The Limited
Edition Company" on the back cover and "Hall of Fame Recordings" on the
disc itself. And it does
include desirable rarities,
particularly his first batch of singles from 1966-67. Those comprise
about half the CD, and include some smoking garage-roots-rockers,
particularly the gritty "East Side Story" and "Persecution Smith," a
frenetic takeoff on Bob Dylan's "Tombstone Blues." Other of those early
songs aren't so good, but there are other high points, like his
soul-rocker "Heavy Music" (parts one and two both included), "Vagrant
Winter," and "Chain Smokin'," as well as the novelties "Sock It To Me
Santa" and "Ballad of the Yellow Beret." The last half of the disc is
mostly taken from slightly later recordings, including "2+2=?" (one of
the great underrated anti-war rock songs of all time), seven tunes that
also appeared on his late-'60s LP Noah,
and the early-'70s single
"Lookin' Back." These tracks (and indeed all of the cuts on this disc)
find Seger searching for a style to some extent, from garage rock and
blue-eyed soul to the Traffic-style "Paint Them a Picture Jane" and
protest numbers. Yet it's not a stretch to note that they also include
some of the rawest, most passionate music and singing of his entire
career. What's really needed,
however, is an
official release of this material that would not only boast the best
sound possible (though the fidelity on this disc is pretty good), but
also offer more than the mere fragmentary discography that serves as
this compilation's thin excuse for liner notes.
Ananda
Shankar, A Life in Music
(Saregama).
To most of the West, Ananda Shankar is most familiar for the records he
made at the beginning (1970's Ananda Shankar) and end (2000's Walking
On) of his recording career, which were the only ones to gain
relatively wide distribution outside India. However, Shankar did
continue to record fairly often for EMI India in the interim. That
period's well represented by this overdue two-CD compilation, which
draws from seven of his Indian albums between 1975 and 2000. On most of
these instrumental recordings, Shankar pursued what has been generally,
though pretty accurately, classified as an East-West fusion of sorts,
melding sitar and traditional Indian music and instruments with rock
and funk arrangements and modern recording technology. Often that's a
recipe for disaster, or at least cheesiness, but Shankar usually
managed to make it effective. On the earlier tracks in particular,
there's often a lagging-behind-the-trends psychedelic funk feel, with
unpredictable but galvanizing shifts between Indian-flavored
melodies/rhythms, careening synthesizers, wah-wah guitars, acid jazz
organ, dancing cinematic strings, and a quite hard-charging solid
rock-influenced beat. From a twenty-first century perspective, these
sound at once dated and futuristic, stuffed with quasi-psychedelicisms
that some would consider passe, yet run through a blender in a way that
has no obvious counterpart on more familiar American and European
recordings of the period. Some other selections tilt more toward the
Indian music-overlaid-with-modern-beats-and-production style, and are
both more conventional and less impressive. The best half or so of this
compilation, however, is quite dynamic, and makes a case for Shankar as
one of the ablest and most balanced fusioneers of Western and Eastern
forms.
Clare Torry,
Heaven in the Sky
(RPM).
Clare Torry will forever be known mostly as the guest session vocalist
on Pink Floyd's "Great Gig in the Sky" on the Dark Side of the Moon
album. However, in addition to singing on many other UK sessions from
the end of the 1960s through the mid-1990s, she also recorded some
obscure solo singles and wrote some of her own material. Heaven in
the Sky collects 18 recordings from 1967-84 on which she's the
featured singer. It's not entirely clear what has been previously
released from the otherwise thorough liner notes, but it does reach way
back to the late 1960s and early 1970s for a few rare solo singles,
including a 1970 45 she did under the name Alice Pepper. Because it's
taken from numerous sources (including commercials, television themes,
and soundtracks) reaching across almost two decades, it's unavoidably
patchy. But it does sound as if, had things worked out a little
differently, Torry might have had a career as a respectable
singer-songwriter in her own right. She has a strong, soulful voice and
exhibited some promise as a soul-pop composer, and certainly sounds to
these ears like a greater talent than, say, her friend Kiki Dee. The
highlights do tend to be the earlier tracks, such as the previously
unissued 1969 outtake "Midnight Train," which is fine blue-eyed soul,
and the melodramatic ballad (from the same year) "Love for Living,"
which Robin Gibb helped produce. And for those who liked her
contribution to "Great Gig in the Sky," "Theme from Film 'OCE'" (from a
1977 film soundtrack) has more of the same kind of beautiful wordless
high vocalizing, though she infers in the liner notes that she was
reluctant to record in a style so explicitly reminiscent of that famous
Pink Floyd guest spot. Much of the other material falls down not so
much on the singing, which is usually good, as the material, which is
often ordinary or even drab mainstream pop. Still, the better parts are
impressive, and make one hope that some of the other rare/unreleased
recordings referred to in the liner notes are eventually issued on CD.
Pete
Townshend, Jai Baba
(Eel Pie). In the
1970s, Pete Townshend participated in three limited-edition albums
devoted to Meher Baba: Happy Birthday
(1970), I Am (1972), and With Love (1976). While Townshend
was just one of several musicians
and poets involved in the recordings, they immediately became
sought-after items among Who collectors, as they did include several
genuine Townshend solo tracks that did not appear on standard
commercial releases (although a few of those came out, either on the
original LP or as CD bonus tracks, on releases of Townshend's first
solo album, Who Came First).
The idea behind this two-CD 2000
compilation, available through the www.eelpie.com website, was a very
good one, combining all three of these scarce albums onto two discs, as
well as adding one bonus cut (a live 1972 version of "Parvardigar"). Be
cautioned that this is probably for serious fans only: there's only
about one album of actual Townshend solo material here, and even this
material generally isn't quite up to the standard of what he was
putting on his commercial releases of the 1970s, whether for the Who or
his solo recordings.
All that taken into consideration, almost all of the Townshend solo
cuts are worthwhile, and if they have something of a one-man demo
quality, that adds to the inviting sense of personal informality they
project. The tracks he contributed to Happy
Birthday in particular
are standouts, including the brooding, reflective "Day of Silence"; the
pious "Content," which did appear on Who
Came First; his own version
of the Who's hit "The Seeker"; the bright, country-influenced "Mary
Jane"; the peculiar braggadocio of "The Love Man"; and a cover of
"Begin the Beguine" that, while it sounds like a lousy idea on paper,
is surprisingly heartfelt and appealing. The ten-minute instrumental
version of "Baba O'Riley" (from I Am)
is also more interesting than
you'd expect, the clattering synthesizers evoking an eerie mystery of
their own. His three songs from With
Love have a delicate
sensitivity sometimes missing from his Who compositions of the time,
though all of them ("Sleeping Dog," "His Hands," and "Lantern Cabin")
were officially issued as bonus tracks on a CD reissue of Who Came
First.
The rest of these records are rather hit-and-miss, from highlights like
Ronnie Lane's rough-hewn "Evolution" (which appeared on Who Came
First), to interesting-but-esoteric items like experimental
composer
Ron Geesin's atmospheric instrumental "With a Smile Up His Nose They
Entered" and Mike Da Costa's goofy poem "How to Transcend Duality and
Influence People." Billy Nicholls does a few songs in an appealingly
shaky, high Townshend-esque voice, but some of the other contributions
are wimpy singer-songwriter efforts (albeit with a fascinatingly dated
aura) and somewhat grating spoken word pieces. Still, even these are of
interest for serious Townshend followers, as they give a sense of the
context of his devotion to Meher Baba (and some of the other people he
interacted with as a result of that association), which informed a
great deal of his songwriting. The pieces of these recordings
that have emerged on standard Townshend solo releases might be enough
for general fans, but for specialists, it's quite enlightening (and
usually entertaining) to hear them whole, as they were originally
assembled.
Kim Weston, The Motown Anthology
(Motown). The two-CD, 48-track size of this anthology might be taken to
signify a definitive collection of sorts of Kim Weston's recordings for
Motown. But while it's of considerable use to Motown collectors, it has
to be approached with some caution by less completist-oriented
listeners, and can't be classified as a definitive best-of. For one
thing, it doesn't include any of her duets with Marvin Gaye, instead
being wholly devoted to solo recordings. In addition, the emphasis is
very much on rare material, as no less than 34 of the cuts were
previously unreleased. So while it does lead off with some of her more
familiar Motown songs that actually did find official release in the
'60s (including her hits "Take Me in Your Arms (Rock Me a Little
While)" and "Helpless"), it's for the most part a dig through unexposed
vaults, and doesn't even include all of the solo Motown tracks she put
out during the '60s. With your expectations duly adjusted, this is
still a worthwhile compilation of one of the Detroit label's less
celebrated artists, though it doesn't reveal Weston as one of Motown's
more talented ones. She was more likable than spectacular, with a
softer, sometimes jazzier edge to her singing than most of her peers at
the company, occasionally slightly reminiscent of Dionne Warwick. The
jazzy inclination really comes out on "Love Trouble Heartache and
Misery," one of the highlights among the unreleased numbers, and the
similarity to Warwick is strong on "I Don't Know If I'm Coming or
Going," though at other times Motown seemed to be trying to put her
into a Mary Wells bag she really didn't fit. Greatest Hits & Rare
Classics remains a preferable compilation for the general
listener due
to its greater and more thorough concentration on her official Motown
discography (including her "It Takes Two" hit duet with Gaye). For the
Motown fanatic, though, this does offer a lot of unreleased (if
somewhat second-division) material penned by major writers at the label
like Smokey Robinson and Mickey Stevenson, the most interesting of
those tracks being the earlier ones, when the Motown sound wasn't as
formulaic as it would become later in the 1960s.
Various Artists, Going Underground Vol. 2: The Dutch Music
Scene [DVD] [bootleg] (Missing in Action Archives). As
unauthorized DVDs (as this one likely is) go, this one might strike
even those who collect these kind of things as mighty esoteric,
compiling about an hour of footage from Dutch progressive rock bands of
the late 1960s and early 1970s. The general US/UK fan is likely to have heard of a couple
of the acts,
Focus and Golden Earring. Plus many collectors who dig further than the
hit parade may have heard, or even own records by, the Outsiders (not
exactly a "progressive rock" band, but they make the cut anyway), Group
1850, and Ekseption. The others—Sandy Coast, Earth and Fire, Solution,
and Kayak—are barely known even in the dedicated collector world. If
you do have a specialized interest in this sort of stuff, however, this
is fairly well done, even if seems like most or all of it was taped
from television retrospectives, and not taken from the original source.
Too, much of the material is lip-synced; not all of the songs are
performed in completion; and a few (though not most) of the clips are
obviously not pre-1975, but taken from reunions. Still, there's some
decent material here, like Earth and Fire's mixture of heavy rock, pop,
and progressive elements; Group 1850's bizarre, cryptic "Mother Nohead"
(unfortunately overlaid with distracting captions). The Outsiders,
sadly, are represented by one of their least impressive recordings
("Cup of Hot Coffee"), and don't actually even mime a performance in
that clip, instead romping around on a boat. Golden Earring's
performance of their huge international hit "Radar Love" is mimed too,
but by the standard of lip-synced videos it's pretty good, and quite
dynamically executed.
Various Artists, The Philly Sound Get Down: Funky Philly
Instrumentals (Distortions). No original labels or
release dates grace this package of two dozens Philadelphia funk
rarities, presumably from the late 1960s (and possibly very early
1970s) by the sound of things. Nor will any of the artists ring any
bells of recognition, even with the vast majority of specialist
soul/funk collectors. Nor do the paragraph-long liner notes give us any
clues about who these cats were, and whether all of this stuff was even
officially released at the time. In a way, though, that's cool, making
you feel almost as though you're an archeologist digging up
unidentified objects from a civilization that, while certainly not
lost, isn't exactly well documented. For all its relative anonymity,
however, the quality of the music is
pretty good.
Many of the cuts bear a specifically Philly regional spin on the funk
sound: horn sections that sound as if they've sneaked off the football
field to get into something hipper, peppy and upbeat rhythms, and a
certain sweetness to the melodies and arrangements that set them apart
from the more gutbucket variety of funk being ground out by James Brown
and his imitators. There might not be anything here as hit-worthy as
the chart singles by Booker T. & the MG's, but neither is it as
faceless as so many rarity compilations are. And plenty of
idiosyncratic touches bubble upward to catch your attention, like the
elephant roar in Philly Four's "Elephant Part 2"; the oddly echoed
horns of Willis Wooten Ork's "Do the Train"; the deft blend of brass
and wah-wah guitar in RDM Band's "Butter That Popcorn"; the
exceptionally tight party funk of Brass Rail's "Penguin Part 2"; and
the almost doleful cast of the Interpretations' funk ballad "Lineman."
The twenty-fifth and final track, "Bonus Funky Philly Virtue Acetate
Beats," strings together snatches of cuts that (at a logical guess)
come from acetates produced at Philadelphia's Virtue Studio, and might
not have been used in full due to their deteriorated sound quality.
Various Artists, Scratch My Back: New Rubble Vol. 5
(Past & Present). The woman-sung wing of the British Invasion was
far more oriented toward pop and ballads than the harder-rocking sounds
associated with the male UK rock groups. There were, however, some
records by female artists with tougher rock and soul arrangements and
vocals, even if they were hardly on the level of raunchiness (or
quality) of the Rolling Stones or Who. This compilation brings together
17 such rare sides from 1964-70, mostly by names who'll ignite little
recognition on either side of the Atlantic, though Billie Davis had a
big 1963 hit in the UK (not included here). It might be longer on
energy than excellent material, but nonetheless it's a good listen,
both for the high-voltage performances and the sheer historical
interest of hearing a side of 1960s British rock that's rarely been
given any attention. And while it's uneven stuff with little in the way
of tunes that sound like they should have been hits, there are some
good, solid efforts to enjoy; considering how few people pay attention
to this sub-genre, in fact, it's likely to be the best comp of this
sort ever done. Davis's "Whatcha Gonna Do," which sounds more like a
tough girl-group record than the stereotypical British Invasion one,
does seem worthy of hit status. Tammy St. John does the rawest version
of "Boys" likely to have been recorded; Tracy Rogers offers a quite
good cover of the throbbing "Baby," first done by the underrated male
British R&B-pop combo the Sorrows; Alma Cogan, a pre-rock pop
singer, does convincing, even propulsive girl group music with "Snakes,
Snails, Puppy Dog Tails"; Samantha Jones summons credible blue-eyed
soul-pop with "Go Ahead"; and Dawn & the Deejays' "These Are the
Things About You" comes about the closest of anything here to the
catchy pop-rock commonly associated with British Invasion rock groups.
If you want novelty, there's "Sock It to Me" by Judy Carnes, who was
famous for dancing with that slogan written on her belly on the Laugh-In TV show.
Various Artists, The Stax Volt Revue [DVD] [bootleg]
(Cat's Meow). The availability of any live footage of Stax/Volt
performers in the 1960s is to be welcomed, even if it's in an
unauthorized guise with slightly grainy image quality. That's what you
get on this approximately hour-long TV, where the performances are
good-to-superb, and the packaging subpar. Aside from the
less-than-optimum (though perfectly watchable) quality and utter
absence of track listings, liner notes, or extra features, it's billed
as being "Live on Dutch TV 1965!" Not so -- it's certainly live and
filmed at just one venue (Booker T. & the MGs also functioning as a
backing band for other artists), but it's certainly not from 1965, as
these performers didn't travel together to Europe until after that (and
some of the songs they sing are from post-1965 releases). It's almost
certainly from the Stax}/Volt tour of Europe in early 1967. All such
shortcomings noted, these are still pretty exciting clips of Otis
Redding, Sam and Dave, Booker T. & the MGs, Eddie Floyd, Arthur
Conley, and the Mar-Keys, playing and singing live, not miming to
records. Redding and Sam & Dave's showmanship might come off best,
but Booker T. & the MGs play a really hot version of "Green Onions"
on their own, while Arthur Conley lets loose on his classic single
"Sweet Soul Music." It's fine document of an important part of '60s
soul music that would be yet finer if a better source for the material
could be found, and the package correspondingly improved.
ALBUM REVIEWS: A SELECTION OF RECENT RELEASES, WINTER 2005-2006:
Kevin Ayers, The BBC Sessions 1970-1976
(Hux). For a guy who never had a chart record (even in the lowest
rungs), Kevin Ayers sure managed to record a lot of BBC sessions in the
1970s. Several other BBC compilations preceded this two-CD set, which
repeats some, though not all, of what's been previously issued from
such sessions. One of the anthology's flaws is that it doesn't clearly
mark what has never appeared elsewhere; maybe designating such tracks
with asterisks would cut down on impulse purchases from discerning
shoppers, but it would sure help fans in straightening out what's
where. Disregarding this, it's a quite good, entertaining, and dare one
say intellectually stimulating sampler of work from his prime, even if
the earlier material on disc one is clearly superior to the tracks on
the second CD.
If you like Ayers, it doesn't get much better than the 1970 material
here, the first four songs featuring various members of his former
group the Soft Machine in the backing group (including Robert Wyatt on
drums and very active backing vocals). It's an invigorating mix of
witty whimsy, art-rock indulgence, improvisational jazz, and absolutely
unpredictable see-saws between profundity and inspired silliness. To
name a few highlights, "You Say You Like My Hat" is a childishly
infectious ditty that would do Syd Barrett proud, Wyatt's scatting
backing vocals very much to the fore. The graceful, haunting "Lady
Rachel" is a solid contender for his best song, here performed with his
band the Whole World (including a teenaged Mike Oldfield on guitar),
while "Shooting at the Moon," also with the Whole World, is an
excellent, ferociously woozy, jazzy update of the early Soft Machine
song "Jet Propelled Photograph." The mood lightens for the six tracks
from 1972, on which Ayers' voice and guitar is accompanied only by
bassist-singer Archie Leggett, including some of his more celebrated
and accessible tunes ("Butterfly Dance," "Whatevershebringswesing") and
a cover of the pop standard "Falling in Love Again."
With 1973-76 recordings, disc two might be less satisfying as it has a
less idiosyncratic, more mainstream rock sound. Still, Ayers'
diffident, almost tossed-off humor shines pretty strongly, and the
songs include some of his better-known numbers, such as "Oh What a
Dream," "Lady Rachel" (a 1974 version), and "Stranger in Blue Suede
Shoes." The sound quality's not always top-of-the-line, but it's always
listenable, ranging from fair (not very often) to very good (most
of the time). Overall, the compilation might not be a match for the
studio recordings, but they're quite worthwhile for any Ayers fan. It
contains some uncommon songs; the arrangements sometimes differ
substantially from the more familiar versions; and Ayers, unlike some
artists at BBC sessions, often seems intent on presenting a unique
performance, rather than just more or less re-creating his records.
Chicago
Blues Reunion, Buried Alive in the
Blues [DVD]. The
Chicago Blues Reunion is a large group whose members include several
esteemed blues and blues-rock veterans, among them Barry Goldberg, Nick
Gravenites, Tracy Nelson, Corky Siegel, Harvey Mandel, and Sam Lay.
This DVD mixes performance footage (all taken from a concert in Berwyn,
IL in October, 2004) of the band with interviews and a few archive
clips (some of them silent). Although there's considerable material of
interest here, it's a bit of an odd jumble that's not wholly a document
of the Chicago Blues Reunion itself, and not wholly a history of the
Chicago blues scene in which these players were involved. It's some of
both, and not nearly comprehensive or rigorously organized enough to be
an overall history of the Chicago blues scene, or even an overall
history of these specific players' involvement in that community.
Instead, it presents the musicians telling stories about themselves and
each other, usually rooted in their coming-of-age experiences as young
blues or blues-influenced artists in the 1960s, with additional context
supplied by interviews with non-Chicago Blues Reunion members like
critic Joel Selvin and guitarists Buddy Guy and B.B. King.
The stories in the interviews are the highlights, like Barry Goldberg
remembering the battle to win Muddy Waters' respect and playing with
Bob Dylan at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival; Harvey Mandel recalling
joining Canned Heat as an emergency fill-in, and playing Woodstock just
a few days later; and various memories of the excitement and novelty of
being among the first whites to venture into Chicago clubs to check out
the blues first-hand in the early and mid-'60s. While the bits of
archive footage are interesting, including silent sequences of the
young Paul Butterfield and Elvin Bishop in Chicago clubs and sound
clips of the Electric Flag, there's not enough to make it worth viewing
on that account alone. The scenes of the Chicago Blues Reunion in
performance are well done, and in addition to providing whatever
thematic center this DVD has, they present a solid if somewhat
workmanlike lineup of respected veterans. This underscores their
function as a link to the classic Chicago blues sound, as Selvin notes,
at a time when the original greats like Waters and Howlin' Wolf can't
be seen anymore, and the closest you could come was to see people who did see them or play with them.
Although the focus of this is too scattered to recommend to general
blues fans, admirers of these specific musicians may enjoy what they
have to offer in both the interviews and performances here. (It should
be noted that Sam Lay, most famous as a drummer, only vocalizes in his
onstage footage with the Chicago Blues Reunion.) Accompanying the DVD
is a full 14-song live CD of the band, mixing original material by
Gravenites, Nelson, and Mandel with covers of classics by the likes of
Slim Harpo and Willie Dixon. It's unfortunate, however, that there are
no credits detailing who sings and plays what on each track.
The
Delmore Brothers, Fifty Miles to
Travel (Ace). This great country duo was in their prime
when the material on this 24-song compilation was recorded for King
from the mid-1940s to the mid-1950s. This isn't the cream of that crop,
as much of that was been collected on an earlier, superior Ace
anthology, Freight Train Boogie.
As a secondary collection, however, it presents some always respectable
and often very good hillbilly music. It concentrates on sides that
hadn't previously been reissued on CD, or reissued at all, including
half a dozen outtakes and alternate takes that hadn't been released
anywhere, and repeating little from the Freight Train Boogie compilation.
While there's some hot country boogie here, there's a little bit more
weight given to folky, more traditional-sounding songs such as "Midnite
Special" and "Dis Train Am Bound for Glory" than there is on the best
Delmore Brothers anthologies. It's often a little more sedate and less
innovative than their best King stuff, but that doesn't mean there
isn't plenty of exceptional harmonizing and bluesy guitar picking (as
on the aptly titled "Fast Express"), occasionally embellished by the
harmonica of Wayne Raney. Although most of these are from the less
traveled corners of the duo's King output, the CD does have one of
their most famous classics, "Blues Stay Away from Me," and -- of more
interest to collectors -- a previously unissued alternate take of the
song. There also unfortunate unflattering slang references to
African-Americans in the otherwise stellar "Mississippi Shore," sung
with a casual geniality suggesting such terminology was hardly out of
the ordinary among the white southern country audience when this single
came out in 1947. The tracks are taken directly from the original
acetates, resulting in a clear sound that's quite exceptional for
reissues of country music from this period.
Jackie
DeShannon, Breakin' It Up on the
Beatles Tour! (RPM). Contrary to what the exploitative
title might have you believe, this was not recorded during a Beatles
tour (though DeShannon was an opening act on their 1964 North American
tour), or even a live album. Instead, it was something of a grab bag of
a dozen tracks that had already been released on Liberty singles
between 1962 and 1964. For all its scattered origins, however, it was a
pretty good compilation of her early-'60s work, though it was neither
definitive nor the very best dozen tracks she did during this period.
The best stuff is extremely good, however, starting with her original
versions of "Needles and Pins" and "When You Walk in the Room," both of
which anticipated some of the elements that would make up folk-rock in
the mid-'60s, and both of which were covered for much bigger hits by
the Searchers. There's also some fine girl group-influenced pop-rock
that she co-wrote with the young Randy Newman ("She Don't Understand
Him Like I Do," "Hold Your Head High"), Jack Nitzsche (the very Phil
Spectoresque "Should I Cry"), and Sharon Sheeley ("You Won't Forget
Me"), as well as a good song Newman wrote alone, "Did He Call Today,
Mama." Some of the other tracks, such as the covers of Buddy Holly's
"Oh, Boy" and "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," come off as
filler in this company, but overall it's a fairly strong set by this
underrated singer-songwriter. The 2005 CD reissue on RPM adds
considerable value with lengthy historical liner notes and eight bonus
tracks from the same era, including a few standouts, like her
folk-rocky "Needles and Pins" B-side "Till You Say You'll Be Mine," the
zesty orchestrated pop-rocker "Try to Forget Him," and the girl group
goodie "Breakaway." Collectors will also want this for the presence of
three previously unreleased cuts among those bonus tracks, those being
a pure blues-folk reading of "Mean Old Frisco" and the more routine
early-'60s-styled pop numbers "Today Will Have No Night" and "Give Me a
Break."
Lonnie
Donegan, Lonesome Traveller
(Castle). The idea behind this 27-song compilation seems to have been
to cherry-pick Lonnie Donegan's most artistically credible
performances, highlighting, in the words of the back cover blurb, "his
skills as an interpreter of traditional American roots music." So while
there are a few hits here (including the title track), his big skiffle
hits are mostly absent, as are his novelties like "Does Your Chewing
Gum Lose Its Flavour (On the Bedpost Overnight)" and "My Old Man's a
Dustman (Ballad of a Refuse Disposal Officer)." Instead, this favors
relatively obscure tracks from LPs, EPs, and B-sides, from the mid-'50s
all the way up to the mid-'60s. Donegan's style is still too
derivative, and the arrangements too dated (not to say occasionally
corny), for these recordings to exert as much of a hold on modern
listeners as those of, say, Leadbelly and Woody Guthrie, to name two of
Donegan's biggest inspirations. Still, there are some surprises here
for those who dismiss Donegan as a mere popularizing entertainer, if
only in the versatility of the material. There are some 1960
US-recorded pop-rock sides produced by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller
(who also wrote one of them, "Sorry, But I'm Gonna Have to Pass"). Some
arrangements tentatively employ electric guitar and drums (such as a
1959 version of "The House of the Rising Sun"), and while these aren't
exactly folk-rock, they do show that Donegan had an idea to combine
folk material with electric amplification long before folk-rock became
a craze in the mid-'60s. There's rather commercial sounding calypso in
the covers of Mickey & Sylvia's "Love Is Strange" and "I Wanna Go
Home," better known to rock fans as a variation of the folk song
adapted by the Beach Boys on their 1966 hit "Sloop John B." There's
even a 1965 Dylan cover ("Farewell (Fare Thee Well)"), as well as the
occasional track that sounds good on its own terms, like his 1963
rock-ish full-band cover of the folk favorite "500 Miles Away from
Home." This stuff's been reissued so many times over that it's hard to
say exactly who might be snared by this attempt to group it under a
vague concept, but it's not a bad sampler of some of Donegan's better
work, though it shouldn't be picked up in lieu of a greatest hits or
best-of compilation. Note, however, that this version of "Rock Island
Line" is not the original mid-'50s hit, but a different 1956 recording
that wasn't issued at the time.
Rogerio
Duprat, A Banda Tropicalista Do
Duprat (El). Duprat is most known as an arranger of
Brazilian tropicalia music, but did also release music under his own
name. This 1968 album will undoubtedly be of interest to collectors of
'60s tropicalia and/or Brazilian psychedelia, if only because three of
the 12 tracks are actually vocal numbers performed by Os Mutantes
(though two of those are merely covers of the Cowsills' "The Rain, The
Park, and Other Things" and the Beatles' "Lady Madonna"). Overall it's
a bit of an odd endeavor, falling somewhere between easy listening
music and the kind of madcap experimentation more typical of his most
celebrated clients. It's of a higher class than most easy listening
albums, from Brazil or otherwise, however. For even if the
predominantly instrumental material is sometimes cheesy (and sometimes
covers not-so-classic American and British hits of the era such as
"Summer Rain," "Honey," and "Cinderella Rockafella"), the arrangements
are often infused with off-the-wall zany imagination and wit. Nowhere
is this more apparent than the interpretation of "Judy in the
Disguise," which has to be the most vibrant and playful cover of that
classic 1968 hit ever waxed, complete with infectious jazzy Latin
rhythms, birdcalls, and honking horns. The fusion of foreign pop-rock,
sexy soundtrack music, and relatively indigenous Brazilian popular
forms is apparent to some degree on many of the other cuts, though some
of the orchestration is fatuous. Songs by Caetano Veloso and Gilberto
Gil are also given the Duprat treatment here, the soppy strings in
Veloso's "Baby" nicely counterpointed by a (deliberately?) out of tune
strummed guitar. It's doubtful many listeners will totally like or
totally hate this, such is its uneven mix of elements. But most lovers
of pop that doesn't take itself too seriously will get some fun out of
it.
Champion
Jack Dupree with T.S. McPhee, Dupree
'n' McPhee: The 1967 Blue Horizon Session (Ace).
The session at which these 16 tracks were recorded (in 1967, though
there's some speculation it might have been done earlier) was a most
unusual one for Champion Jack Dupree, and to a lesser degree for T.S.
McPhee. Although Dupree was a pianist, not only does he play no piano
here -- there is no piano to
be heard. Instead, the sole accompaniment is the acoustic guitar of
T.S. McPhee, soon to become famous as the figurehead of the British
blues-rock band the Groundhogs. It's an unusual combination, and not
the best or most characteristic Dupree recording. That doesn't mean,
however, that it isn't worthwhile, particularly for some of the more
open-minded fans of traditional-styled acoustic blues. Dupree's vocals
are characteristically warm and inviting on this set of pretty
downhome, rootsy blues, all written by Dupree and McPhee themselves.
McPhee's guitar work might be the most noteworthy aspect of this
recording date, however, even if he didn't get lead billing. His
playing is both proficient and moving, particularly when he unleashes
the snakiest of his slide guitar lines, as he does on "Get Your Head
Happy," "No Meat Blues," and the brisk "Got My Ticket" in particular.
It's a low-key group of recordings, but a pleasantly earthy one. Two of
them, "Get Your Head Happy" and "Easy Is the Way," came out on a
limited-edition 1967 single, and another on a 1997 CD, but all of the
others made their first appearance anywhere on this 2005 compilation.
Mike Furber,
Just a Poor Boy
(Radioactive). The dozen tracks on this obscure Australian rocker's
1967 LP were, as was often the case for the time, culled from a variety
of sources, including two 1966 singles that saw some Australian
regional chart action, "Just a Poor Boy" and "You Stole My Love." It's
fair British Invasion-styled rock, though it doesn't stop with just
imitating overseas trends, as most of the songs are themselves covers
of British and American tunes. Some of the British ones covered, in
fact, are quite obscure: "You Stole My Love" was first done (and
handled much better, to be honest) by Graham Gouldman's mid-'60s band
the Mockingbirds, while "Stop" was an early Moody Blues original.
Furber was an okay but uneven singer, and in fact sounds rather
horribly off-pitch on "Stop."He also seemed to favor fairly tough
R&B material that was actually a little too tough for his ordinary
range, rather in the way British singers like Neil Christian and Dave
Berry recorded some hard R&B that was a little at odds with their
mild, pop-oriented voices. The moody, tuneful Merseybeat-ish beat
ballad "You're Back Again" and the similar (but harder rocking) "Love
Talk" are the standouts, both because they're not overly familiar
songs, and because they're more suited toward Furber's voice than the
soul-R&B stuff. Yet while it's good to have a CD reissue of this
rare album available, as packaging goes, this makes even the skimpiest
bootleg look good. Not only are there no liner notes or original
release labels or dates; there are not even any song titles listed.
(There are, however, two photos, each of them printed three times in
various places on the cover and inner sleeve.)
Dave
Hamilton, Detroit City Grooves
Featuring "Soul Suite" (BGP). Dave Hamilton is known more
as a Detroit soul producer than as a recording artist -- that is, to
the relatively small number of serious soul collectors who are even
aware of who he is. Hamilton did, however, record some material under
his own name, dating all the way back to the mid-1950s. This CD
compilation sticks solely to the instrumental soul-jazz-funk material
the multi-instrumentalist cut between 1967 and the early 1970s, about
half of which would have probably comprised an unreleased 1970 album
called Soul Suite. While four
of the tracks appeared on obscure 1967-71 singles and a couple of
others showed up on CD compilations in the late 1990s, the rest make
their first appearance on this disc. It might not be brilliant or exert
a magnetic pull beyond aficionados of this particular form of groove.
But it's actually quite nice instrumental soul mood music, more
unassuming and easygoing than much of the stuff that's championed by
devotees of this sub-genre. The frequent use of silky guitar lines,
vibes, and Stevie Wonder-like harmonica pushes this a little into
lounge-easy listening territory, but in some of the best senses of that
description. Those who want something a little tougher won't go away
starving, either, as "Brother Ratt" opens with some outer-space
wah-wah, sliding into a nicely funky workout with astral vibes
flourishes. The guitars (often using wah-wah effects) and basses can
get pretty hard-hitting in a smoothly percolating way, particularly on
"Yesterdays," where some just-slightly-dissonant harmonica bleats add a
nice edge. It's a modest collection, but an attractive one, and a more
pleasurable listen than many an acid jazz reissue with more hip
credibility.
Hardin
& York, Tomorrow Today
(RPM). Hardin & York's debut album was quite competent yet
derivative early progressive rock, and derivative of Traffic in
particular. At least, however, it came by its influences quite
honestly, Pete York having drummed behind Stevie Winwood in the Spencer
Davis Group, and Eddie Hardin having joined the Spencer Davis Group
after Winwood left. And the duo does get quite a lot of sound out of
their keyboards and drums, although they had plenty of backup from some
session musicians. Eddie Hardin sings and writes uncannily like Winwood
circa Traffic's "Forty Thousand Headmen" period, but while that's a
good standard to shoot for, therein also lies the problem: it's not
quite as good as the Winwood-paced Traffic, and certainly not as
original. All that noted, if you're looking for something in the mold
of Traffic-lite and keeping your expectations realistically modest,
this is pretty decent stuff. It might be a tad more rooted in soul-pop
than Traffic, but it doesn't suffer for that. Hardin's vocals are
impressively rich and gritty, and his piano and organ quite skillful.
The 2005 CD reissue on RPM adds historical liner notes and four bonus
cuts from the same sessions. These are of the same respectable level of
the rest of the album, if a little more sparsely produced and
gospel-rock-oriented, with the exception of an unnecessary cover of
Chuck Berry's "Rock'n'Roll Music."
Buddy Holly,
The Music of Buddy Holly & the
Crickets: The Definitive Story [DVD] (Universal). Since
the 1980s video The Real Buddy Holly
Story was very good, some fans might have questioned the need
for this entirely separate 100-minute documentary done years later.
This DVD is very good as well, however, and -- remarkably, among
projects of this kind -- really does
concentrate on the music, rather than giving the personal life of the
subject equal or greater priority. The basic outline and highlights of
Holly's career are here, but the real focus is on interviews with
several of his closest surviving associates, including fellow Crickets
Jerry Allison and Joe B. Mauldin; Sonny Curtis; Sonny West, who wrote
Buddy's hits "Oh Boy" and "Rave On"; Peggy Sue Gerson, who married
Allison in the late 1950s and was the inspiration for the title of
"Peggy Sue"; and Carl Bunch and Tommy Allsup, who were part of the
Crickets for Holly's final, ill-fated tour. And these are good interviews, not the sort where
they just tell stories that were funny at the time they happened, but
don't mean much these days. Even for dedicated Holly fans, there are
some little-known stories about both his early days and his brief
period of fame, and some very astute musical analysis by his cohorts.
Particularly interesting are the segments in which it's revealed that
the arrangement for "Maybe Baby" was inspired by Little Richard's
"Lucille"; that the quirkiness of Allison's drum part in the
instrumental break of "That'll Be the Day" is a goof, owing to his
belief that they were only doing a demo; that his classic drum part on
"Peggy Sue" was partially inspired by the percussion on a pop record by
Jaye P. Morgan, "Dawn"; and that the melody for "True Love Ways" was
adapted from a gospel recording by the Angelic Gospel Singers, "I'll Be
Alright." About the only mild criticisms to offer are that the
occasional voiceover narration is a little too dramatic, and that some
of the general details of Holly's rise to fame aren't specifically
covered, but those are minor drawbacks. The extra features are good as
well, including 20 extra minutes of interview material with various of
the participants; the complete clips of all three of the songs Holly
performed on The Ed Sullivan Show;
a sizable booklet with biographical sketches of his musical
collaborators; and a "DVD Juke Box" of 14 of his more interesting,
lesser-known songs that's more worthwhile than you'd think, as montages
of old photos, record sleeves, and memorabilia appear while the tracks
play. Every feature of the DVD, in fact, surpasses the expectations
rock'n'roll fans usually have of these documentary projects.
Gordon
Jackson, Thinking Back
(Sunbeam). Gordon Jackson's only album sounds a little like a Traffic
LP with a singer who isn't in the band. The similarity is really no
surprise, since Traffic men Steve Winwood, Dave Mason, Jim Capaldi, and
Chris Wood all played on the record, and Mason produced. Other notables
with connections to the Traffic family tree or Marmalade label also
appeared, including Luther Grosvenor; Rick Grech, Jim King, and Poli
Palmer of Family; and Julie Driscoll. There's a languid, minor-keyed
jazz-folk-psychedelic vibe to the songs, which have a meditative,
spontaneously pensive air, appealingly sung by Jackson. Touches of
Indian and African music are added by occasional tabla and sitar. What
keeps this from being as memorable as Traffic or some of the other
better late-'60s British psychedelic acts is a certain meandering
looseness to the songs that, while quite pleasant, lacks concision and
focus. That was a quality also heard in the album from the same era by
fellow Marmalade artist Gary Farr, Take
Something With You, and while Thinking
Back is better and more original than Farr's effort, the songs
are more interesting mood pieces with a yearning, mystic tone than they
are outstanding compositions. At times this is like hearing psychedelic
sea shanties (as on "My Ship, My Star"), such is the lilt of the tunes,
though hints of blues and more playful pop-psych whimsy are heard in
cuts like "Me and My Dog." The 2005 CD reissue on Sunbeam adds lengthy
historical liner notes and five bonus tracks, including the non-LP
B-side "A Day at the Cottage"; a haunting, sparse home demo of "My
Ship, My Star"; single mixes of "Song for Freedom" and "Sing to Me
Woman"; and a long version of "Me and My Dog."
The
King's Ransom, The King's Ransom
(Positively 19th Street). The King's Ransom were one of a surprising
number of groups from Allentown, PA (a little more than an hour's drive
from Philadelphia) who made '60s garage rock records. The songs on this
collection (including four takes of one of them, "Elevator Operator")
might not be too remarkable when judged against the average cut
on the Nuggets box set. But
as the style goes, they're pretty decent, though the group didn't have
much of a consistent sound or personality. "Without You," with its
tense clock-ticking beat and false ending, is a quite good brooding
garage rocker; "Ain't That Just Like Me," based on the Searchers'
rave-up arrangement of a Coasters song, is almost as good and wild as
that first-rate Searchers track. Some of the slower numbers drag on in
a lugubrious fashion, and even the uptempo "Shame" is something of a
cliched subdued rant against a no-good girl, though again (one guiltily
admits) rather good as those things go. In line with most other groups
of the period, they quickly changed with the times, getting into
lighter harmony psychedelic pop with "Shadows of Dawn" and the
beguilingly naive, meditative ode to a "Streetcar." Sometimes, too,
they used the kind of florid keyboard arrangements that sounded like
hand-me-downs from the likes of the Left Banke and some of the 1967
Beatles' output. Like much of the rest of the CD, these have a ragged
charm, though the sound is usually only fair, sometimes with audible
surface noise from original discs.
Mushroom, Early in the Morning
(Radioactive). This rare album by this obscure early-1970s Irish
folk-rock outfit is in some ways quite similar to the brand of British
folk-rock pioneered by Fairport Convention in the late 1960s and early
1970s. Traditional Celtic folk-flavored melodies are given both
delicate and hard-rocking treatments, the standard rock instruments
given a British Isles folk tinge with embellishments of violin,
electric mandolin, harpsichord, tin whistle, wind chimes, recorder, and
bodhran. The similarity isn't extreme, however, as to start with the
production's far funkier and more homespun -- not a bad thing at all,
but a trait that needs to be noted in case you're expecting something
on the order of Fairport's Full House.
Just as crucially, there are definitely more influences from pop,
psychedelia, and progressive rock in Mushroom's particular spin on the
British Isles folk-rock genre. While at times this is very much in the
rapid-fire lickety-split, ferociously rocked-up reels'n'jigs style that
Fairport and such often used in the early '70s, there are also some
nearly exquisite passages of melancholy Celtic folk balladry with a
mild contemporary rock slant, such as "Tenpenny Piece" and the title
track. Then there's the psychedelic guitar sustain and wah-wah weaving
around the violin in "Crying," which otherwise would be a rather
standard British late-'60s pop-rock song. And there's also the almost
berserk keyboards of "Johnny the Jumper," where Fairport-style
folk-rock meets the distorted roller rink sounds of early-'60s Joe Meek
productions. It's far more naive a record than Fairport Convention or
Steeleye Span ever made, and less vocally and instrumentally
accomplished, not to say more rudimentarily produced. Yet for those
very reasons, it's a fairly nifty relic in the genre, if only because
it's not just an emulation of obvious influences, but a somewhat odd
and original twist on the format.
Alastair
Riddell, Space Waltz
(RPM). Make no mistake about it -- this record would have not existed
had it not been for David Bowie. It's not just that Riddell himself
affected an androgynous look rather like Bowie's early-'70s visage.
This New Zealander also sounded
very much like Bowie in the 1970-72 period, with catchy pop melodies,
glam inflections to the rhythm and vocal phrasing, and even the
frequent allusions to science fiction in the lyrics. Bowie himself had
passed through that phase by the time this was issued in Riddell's
native New Zealand in 1975, but given how slowly trends traveled to
that part of the world in those days, it might well have seemed pretty
cutting edge. There's no getting past its blatant imitativeness, but if
you are the kind who likes the early David Bowie sound enough to be
satisfied by unoriginal approximations of the real thing, this is
pretty good for what it is. Riddell goes through a gamut of glam
affectations with convincing confidence, and if he's not the singer
Bowie is, he's still okay. Nor is he on Bowie's level as a songwriter,
but "Seabird" has the druggy, drawn-out downerisms of Bowie's bleaker
side down pretty well, and both the 1974 New Zealand hit single "Out on
the Street" and the melodramatically arching "Love the Way He Smiles"
have a fairly authentic Ziggy
Stardust outtake aura. According to the historical liner notes
of the 2005 CD reissue on RPM, "most of the tracks were based on the
Tellurians, a genetically engineered race from the planet Telluria
whose inhabitants use sex purely as a reproductive process where no
emotional love is involved." Well, you can't really tell without having
read whatever book(s) sparked this brainstorm, but this doesn't mean
this isn't a modestly enjoyable curio, little-known internationally
before its 2005 CD reissue in the UK.
Twiggy
& Linda Thorson, A Snapshot of
Swinging London (El/Cherry Red). Twiggy and Linda Thorson
were far more known for stardom in other fields than music in the late
1960s, Twiggy as a supermodel and Linda Thorson as an actress (in the
role of Tara King in the television series The Avengers). They did, however,
each record some singles at the time that aren't bad, even though they
were likely only done as cash-ins on their celebrity. This compilation
brings together both sides of the first two singles by Twiggy (from
1967), as well as seven tracks done by Linda Thorson in 1968. The
Twiggy sides were produced by Tommy Scott, perhaps best known to
British Invasion fans for having both produced and written some songs
for Them; he also wrote or co-wrote all of the tunes here, one of them
a collaboration with Phil Coulter, who wrote Them's great "I Can Give
You Everything" with Scott. Nothing here, be warned, is anything like
"I Can Give You Everything." Instead, these are slight if atmospheric
songs with a period Swinging London pop-rock flavor, vaguely along the
lines of some of the material the likes of Marianne Faithfull and
Sandie Shaw were trotting out. Twiggy's voice is thin and shaky, but
does have a fetching fragility, and it should be noted that these
weren't one-offs; she made other records, off and on, over the next two
decades. Thorson is a better singer, and favors more soul-pop-oriented
arrangements and songs on her seven numbers, produced by British pop
singer Kenny Lynch. The tunes, however, are on the bland side, though
they're pleasantly credible reflections of trends in the lighter part
of soul music of the era. It was a nice idea to package together
material by these two singers on one CD, as they're connected by their
status as '60s British-based young trendy woman media personalities who
made rare records as a sideline. The packaging could have been more
elaborate, however, with brief liner notes and incomplete details
regarding on which discs these tracks were originally released.
Scott
Walker, Classics & Collectibles
(Mercury/Universal). While there's both much fine music here and many
rarities that the dedicated Scott Walker collector will want to have,
this two-CD anthology unfortunately falls into the "not quite one or
the other" category. Disc one collects 22 songs from his commonly
available early catalog, all previously issued on CD, mostly from his
early solo releases (though some are by the Walker Brothers). Most of
disc two, however, had not been released on CD before this compilation,
drawing from numerous rare late-'60s and early-'70s discs, including
several songs from his rare 1969 LP Scott
Sings Songs from His TV Series, one ("The Gentle Rain") from a
1966 EP, and assorted singles and soundtracks. Here's the rub: the
commonly available songs on disc one, which focus on his most subdued
early ballads, are by far better than the rarities on disc two, which
assembles far slushier middle-of-the-road pop and includes no Walker
originals. So the general fan who wants to hear his best (or at least
better) early stuff is stuck with a companion disc that's not as good
as or stylistically compatible with the first CD, while serious
collectors willing to put up with the pop covers for the sake of
completism are lumbered with a whole disc of material they already have
(likely more than once, in many cases). A Classics & Collectibles
anthology for Dusty Springfield suffered from the same problem, though
at least there the quality was pretty high on almost all the songs,
whether rare or not.
If you're still interested in accepting the CD for what it is, disc one
is very good, containing highlights of his early work like "If You Go
Away," "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore" (with the Walker Brothers,
presented here in a mono mix that makes John Walker's vocal more
prominent), "In My Room" (also with the Walkers), "Jackie," "Next,"
"Plastic Palace People," and "Just Say Goodbye." The accent's on moody
ballads, but there is room for some of his acerbic, uptempo Jacques
Brel covers, like "Mathilde." Still, it's not a best-of, not when it's
missing such undoubted highlights as "The Seventh Seal" and "The Old
Man's Back Again," for starters. As for disc two, once you get past the
shock of hearing him croon straight pop songs and standards without
much of an edge (by the likes of John Barry, Henry Mancini, Paul Anka,
Jimmy Webb, Dory Previn, and Antonio Carlos Jobim, with Randy Newman's
"Cowboy" sneaking in somehow), it's really not that bad, though nothing
you'd play to convince novices of Walker's hipness. Walker simply had a
superb voice, and even if the material and arrangements are often
blandly sentimental ("The Impossible Dream" indeed!), he does croon
these so well that most of them can be enjoyed on at least a modest
level. Some are easier to take than others, of course, and it's a
little saccharine in one concentrated dose. The larger point is,
however, that it's really the rarities that give this package any
value. If this rare material is to be issued at all, it should be
issued as a stand-alone rarities disc; as a double-CD of nothing but
rarities; or, by going the whole hog and putting out the rare albums,
as flawed as they may be, with bonus tracks. This sort of compromise
anthology doesn't wholly please anyone.
Various Artists, Alternative Animals
(Alternative Animals/Shock). Accurately billed on the front cover as
"an interactive documentary on the Australian punk scene 1976-1979,"
this two-disc set combines a CD of rare and unreleased tracks from the
period with a CD-ROM containing graphics, interviews, and video
footage. On some levels, it's a thrilling multimedia overview of an
obscure (certainly on an international level) but interesting genre for
aficionados. Yet at the same time, it's a somewhat frustrating viewing
and listening experience due to some limitations and shortcomings in
the packaging and presentation. The CD component, for one thing,
doesn't identify which tracks are "rare" and which ones were previously
unissued. Nor are many details provided about when they were recorded,
except for the two Saints cuts, identified as live recordings from
April 21, 1977. On its own terms, the CD is decent and quite energetic
(if somewhat derivative) early punk music, mixing a few names known to
international punk collectors with others that even experts might have
never heard. The Saints, Radio Birdman, and Boys Next Door (who evolved
into the Birthday Party) are all represented, as are the Australian
band named X (not to be confused with the more famous Los Angeles act
of that name), as well as less celebrated groups like Manikins (whose
"Premonition" is the lone cut to approach pop-punk), the Chosen Few,
and the Leftovers.
More interesting, and more
frustrating, is the accompanying CD-ROM. Its assets include a wealth of
video and audio interviews with members of dozens of bands, as well as
vintage video footage of musical performances by the Saints, the Chosen
Few, the Boys Next Door, and the Manikins. This must be among the
earliest, if not the
earliest, footage of Nick Cave, who performs two songs as singer of the
Boys Next Door. (There's also an interview clip from the period in
which he's asked if he has anything to say, to which he responds, "Yes,
but don't ask me what. Which is what you would have asked me.") Also
included are interviews with non-musical contributors to the scene
(such Bruce Milne, founder of the Au Go Go Records label), band family
trees, illustrations of (and some excerpts from) a surprising abundance
of vintage fanzines, sleeves and basic information about late-'70s
Australian punk records, and recollections of important venues. Yet for
all the stuff to browse through, it's bulky and awkward to navigate,
and if there's a way to make the tiny videos larger, it has escaped
this user. It would also have been a great help if just a little more
context was provided -- a basic bio and discography of each band, for
instance -- to orient those who might not be familiar with much of this
stuff (which would include most rock fans from outside Australia, and
quite a number within Australia). Make no mistake -- serious punk fans
with a deep reservoir of patience will find enough to keep them
interested for hours, so much material is there to investigate on the
CD-ROM. With just a little more attentiveness to user-friendliness,
however, it would be a more entertaining and informative document of an
interesting scene that's not likely to benefit from such in-depth
treatment often (or, perhaps, ever again).
Various Artists, My First Day Without You: New Rubble Vol. 1
(Past & Present). As Nick Saloman rightfully points out in
his liner notes, compilations of rare 1960s British rock tend to focus
on raw R&B bands, psychedelia, and the hybrid of mod, R&B, and
psychedelia known as freakbeat. In comparison, the more straightforward
variety of British pop-rock has been only lightly represented. This
compilation of 20 songs from scarce singles is one step toward
correcting that imbalance, introducing the "cleanbeat" genre, to quote
a term used on the back cover. As you might expect, the songs are
shaded with Merseybeat and light Beatles influences, though not
exclusively so. It's not great music; if you want really good
non-Beatles mid-'60s British pop-rock, you're much better off with
best-ofs for the Searchers, Dave Clark Five, the Hollies, and the like.
Still, it's usually pleasant at the least, and sometimes better than
that, even if some of the material's rather forgettably generic. Take
the best half of this and you've have a pretty good compilation,
including the constantly key-changing "Anytime" by the Llan; the peppy,
moody Merseybeat of "Lies" by Johnny Sandon, who fronted the Searchers
before they split to go on their own; the brooding, organ-toned
"Jacqueline" by Bryan & the Brunelles; the Hi-Fis' quality cover of
Chuck Jackson's "I Keep Forgetting"; the West Five's cover of Rod
Argent's "If It Don't Work Out"; the Blue Rondos' Joe Meek-produced "I
Don't Want Your Lovin' No More"; and the Mockingbirds' Beach
Boys-influenced soul-pop ballad "I Can Feel We're Parting," co-written
by band member and future 10CC guy Graham Gouldman.
Various Artists, Phil's Spectre II: Another Wall of
Soundalikes (Ace). Phil's
Spectre II: Another Wall of Soundalikes is very much along the
same lines as its predecessor, Phil's
Spectre: A Wall of Soundalikes. It's not the best group of Phil
Spector soundalike productions; few of these two dozen obscure songs
are strong enough that they sound as if they should have been hits; and
while the Spector influence is strong to overwhelming on all of these
tracks, you would certainly not mistake all of them for actual Spector
productions in a blindfold test. But they're quite enjoyable for what
they are, and certainly will be enjoyed by Phil Spector fanatics,
including as they do many of the Wall of Sound trademarks, particularly
in the dense orchestral production and some of the skipping, pummeling
rhythms. Plus, from a pure collector standpoint, this is awash with big
names, and not only via the little-known tracks by stars like the
Righteous Brothers, the Beach Boys, Mary Wells, Dobie Gray (whose "No
Room to Cry" is a highlight), Ruby & the Romantics, the Four Tops,
the Knickerbockers, Joe South, Connie Stevens, and Nino Tempo &
April Stevens. There are also numerous interesting names lurking in the
credits, like Shadow Morton (who produced the Goodies' "The Dum Dum
Ditty," subsequently done by the Shangri-Las); Harry Lookofsky, the
orchestra leader for Reparata & the Delrons, and father of the Left
Banke's Michael Brown; Jeff Barry, who wrote Reparata & the
Delrons' "I'm Nobody's Baby Now"; David Gates, who arranged the
cuts by Connie Stevens and Suzy Wallis; Bob Lind, who wrote the
Satisfactions' "Bring It All Down," produced by Jack Nitzsche; Al
Kooper, who co-wrote and co-produced Eight Feet's "Bobby's Come a Long
Long Way"; and Van McCoy, who wrote and produced the Fantastic
Vantastics' "Gee What a Boy." Then there's Clydie King, who did "The
Thrill Is Gone" long before becoming a backup session singer for
numerous stars, and Bobby Coleman's "(Baby) You Don't Have to Tell Me,"
covered for a hit in the UK by the Walker Brothers. There are also some
of the most diligent imitations of the Righteous Brothers ever waxed,
from Kane & Abel, the Dreamlovers, and the Knickerbockers.
Detailed notes on these rarities by Mick Patrick add to the
appreciation of this odd but entertaining journey through the web of
sound Phil Spector spun throughout the industry.
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