CD Odyssey Disc 498: The Proclaimers

A couple weeks back I skipped guitar practice to watch the Bruins play the Penguins and we lost.  I blamed the vengeful Gods of Guitar Practice.

Tonight I skipped most of the Bruins/Habs game to go to guitar lessons.  Sadly, we still lost, but I can’t blame the Gods of Guitar Practice.  Instead I’ll fall back on the time-honoured tradition of blaming the officiating and bad luck.  Damn I hate the Montreal Canadiens.

Disc 498 is… Sunshine on Leith

Artist: The Proclaimers

Year of Release: 1988

What’s up with the Cover?  The Reid brothers look out on urban Scotland, and give us a backside view of their eighties jeans.  It was not a good decade for jeans.

How I Came To Know It:  I first heard these guys when I was going to university in the late eighties.  They were pretty big on campus for a couple of years.  I bought this CD very early on and I’ve had it in my collection for over twenty years now.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have two Proclaimers albums; this one and “This Is The Story” which I reviewed back at Disc 363 (also the day after I got my last tattoo – January 29, 2012).  Of the two albums, I prefer “Sunshine on Leith.”

Rating:  4 stars.

When you proclaim something you do more than tell someone, you lay it down like it is some kind of gospel, and that’s how this record by the Proclaimers comes across – big, brash and unapologetic.

The boys play their acoustic guitars loud and they sing brazenly on top of it, mixing in love and politics in equal measure.  I can’t decide if they are the male version of the Indigo Girls or the Scottish version of Billy Bragg.

Like their previous release, the politics once again strongly reference Scottish nationalism.  Songs like “Cap In Hand” are pointed, but more directed at Scottish complacency than at any foreign power.  In places it sounds like they’re channeling Sean Connery on a bad night, but I still love this song.  It feels like a soccer chant and a picket slogan wrapped up into one guitar strumming package of protest folk.

More thoughtful, and heart wrenching is “What Do You Do” which paints the distressing picture of what it is like to be a majority community, but to feel like a minority within a larger confederation:

“What do you do

When Democracy’s all through

What do you do

When minority means you?”

It is a longstanding political question the world over, with no perfect answer.  Fortunately, we don’t solve political questions on “A Creative Maelstrom,” we discuss music.  Huzzah!  On that note, it should be mentioned The Proclaimers aren’t always dour and politically combative.  For example, “It’s Saturday Night” is a funny song about a bender that sounds like it could’ve been a country and western hit in the fifties except for updated activities like this:

“So let me walk straight, don’t let me feel pain

I’m gonna scratch cars, with my keys again.”

The lyrics say “Sex Pistols” but the tune says “Hank Williams” and the American country influences don’t stop there.  Considering how long I’ve owned this album and how many times I’ve listened to it, I was more than a little embarrassed to only now notice that “My Old Friend the Blues” is a remake of the Steve Earle song recorded for his album “Guitar Town” two years earlier.  Major kudos to the Proclaimers for remaking one of my all-time favourite artists.  I particularly like the guitar playing on the Proclaimers version, and the harmonies of the twin brothers are on fine display.  That said, overall I still prefer the sadder, more introspective Steve Earle version.  With the exception of the brilliant guitar work, the remake is just a little too stilted and by rote.

Of course, this album can’t be discussed without noting the huge song that propelled them briefly to international stardom – three times.  “I’m Gonna Be” was a fairly big hit when the album came out in 1988, and then even more son when it was rediscovered first in the 1993 romantic film “Benny and Joon” and then again in 2001 for “Shrek.”

So every decade, “I’m Gonna Be” got massive radio play, to the point where this otherwise very good song may be terminally overexposed.  It is a damned shame, because it was never a bad song, but I still wanted to skip it (and “I’m On My Way” as well, which isn’t far behind in terms of overplay).

For good or ill, Odyssey rules preclude skipping songs – a full listen, monkey!  I dutifully complied and found myself begrudgingly enjoying the song yet another time despite my fervent wishes to the contrary.

The biggest disappointment of “Sunshine on Leith” is that it is universally remembered for these two latterly mentioned tracks, which while OK are at best middle of the pack compared to some of the lesser known gems on this balanced and musically stimulating folk record.

To know more about some of those other songs, all you would have had to do was pay attention but in case you haven’t, just check out the next section of this entry.

Best tracks:  Cap In Hand, Sean, Sunshine on Leith, What Do You Do, It’s Saturday Night

CD Odyssey Disc 497: Neil Young

I am just finishing up an enjoyable four day weekend as part of my annual anniversary celebration with Sheila.  Sixteen wonderful years, and going strong!

I’ve been buying a lot of hard rock and metal recently (this weekend alone I got more Thin Lizzy and Motorhead and started collecting Helloween and Nightwish as well) but as readers of this blog will know that’s only one of my many musical interests.  Here’s another.

Disc 497 is… Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere

Artist: Neil Young with Crazy Horse

Year of Release: 1969

What’s up with the Cover?  A man and his dog.  I don’t like this cover, and not just because I’m a cat person.  The photo is poor resolution, or it is an effect that makes it appear to be poor resolution.  Also, that is the most awkward “I’m relaxing against this tree” pose I’ve seen.  It looks more like Neil is afraid the tree is about to fall over.  Even the dog looks uncomfortable.

How I Came To Know It:  I’ve been a Neil Young fan for years, and this was just me drilling through his collection.  This one came to me fairly late, and I’ve only had it for about ten years or so.

How It Stacks Up:  Neil Young has thirty-seven studio albums, but currently I only have fifteen of them.  “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere” is one of the stronger albums, but competition is tough at the top, so I’ll put it fourth best.

Rating:  4 stars.

For his second solo album Neil Young decided to go a little crazy – Crazy Horse that is.

“Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere” (hereafter referred to as “Nowhere” for the sake of brevity) was the first album with Crazy Horse as the backing band.  I find in the fifteen albums I know, the ones with Crazy Horse tend to have a stronger rock edge.  They change Neil’s sound – not making it better or worse, just different.  It reminds me of what happens to Tom Petty’s music when he’s got the Heartbreakers alongside.  They are both just a little bit…snarlier.

The addition of Crazy Horse (formerly a band called The Rockets) makes for quite a departure from Young’s first solo effort (recently reviewed back at Disc 435), as they add in a lot more electric guitar and driving riffs.

There is none more driving a riff than the opening track, “Cinnamon Girl” which has a sixties psychedelic rock edge that is very unlike anything you’ll hear on the previous album and is the foundation for later Neil Young and Crazy Horse records like 1990’s “Ragged Glory.”  The reverb-infused melody on the guitar licks also makes it easy to understand how grunge acts were such fans of Young.

There are two mammoth tracks on the album, the murderous “Down by the River” and the noodle-infused “Cowgirl in the Sand.”  Both are over nine minutes long and together account for a full half of the album’s total content.  Neither song drags or gives you any reason to want them to be any shorter.  I’d have been happy to have a third.

“Down By the River” is a song about a man murdering his lover – one guess where the crime takes place.  The song could almost be a blues track if it weren’t for the folksy melodies that Neil mixes into the froth of guitar groove.  This is a song that is enjoyable regardless of what you choose to listen to.  You can tune your ear to Neil’s sloppily perfect guitar solos, or you can listen to Danny Whitten pluck away on his own shining moments.  Both are fun, but on this listen I found myself just enjoying Billy Talbot’s bass line for long stretches.  There is a lot of good stuff to choose from in this song, or you can just relax and let all the elements wash over you together.  You can’t go wrong.

“Cowgirl in the Sand” is an equally layered, complex and beautiful epic song. You can still ride whatever instrument or section of the song makes you most happy, and while there seems to be some kind of relationship issue in the lyrics, no one dies.

Another standout is the title track, which although the sentiments are very ‘summer-of-love’, still hold up more than forty years later.  In fact, I have a remake of this song by Dar Williams from 2005 which proves that good must just doesn’t get old, it just gets seasoned.  It doesn’t matter if it is 1969 or 2013, sometimes our lives can get so busy we just dream of getting away and taking a breath or two.  Having just taken a few breaths myself over a long weekend, I can attest to the restorative powers of – as Neil puts it – getting away from this day-to-day runnin’ around.”

When I recently reviewed Neil Young’s self-titled debut solo effort, I found it was just a little too quiet overall.  It had the same wistful call for a simpler life but it lacked the edge to make the listener feel like you really needed an escape.  With “Nowhere” Neil adds on the dynamics of a harder sound (and murder – don’t forget the murder!) which helps the album have a few more peaks and valleys.  These mood changes make the journey more notable.  “Nowhere” recognizes that it isn’t enough to go on a retreat; you need something to retreat from.

Best tracks:  Cinnamon Girl, Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere, Down By the River, Cowgirl In The Sand

CD Odyssey Disc 496: The Shins

It is a windy, blustery day, but apart from a chill in the air, it is actually kind of nice.  I like it windy, and I don’t even mind the rain, but I have a hard time with both of them at the same time.  If I can’t use an umbrella, it means I have to use ear-buds instead of my nice headphones.  The headphones are a bit hipster, but I love them, and they give a nice warm sound to the music that bass-driven ear-buds never do.  Kudos to Sheila for buying them for me!

Luckily this morning’s walk was just rain, and this afternoon’s was just wind, so I got to use them both ways.

Disc 496 is… Chutes Too Narrow

Artist: The Shins

Year of Release: 2003

What’s up with the Cover?  In the middle of the oughts, record companies and artists alike were still valiantly trying to keep people from turning to downloads over albums.  Beck did a cover which you could decorate yourself with “The Information” and even the Shins follow up album, “Wincing the Night Away” has stickers.

“Chutes Too Narrow” is a three dimensional fold, where different portions are cut away to create a three dimensional effect.  I thought about folding it out and taking another picture, but it looks like it was drawn by someone in Grade Two.

How I Came To Know It:  As I’ve noted on prior Shins’ reviews, Sheila and I were watching “Saturday Night Live” and we saw the Shins come on to promote this album.  We loved it and went out and bought this album shortly thereafter, so this is the album that launched our interest in the band.

How It Stacks Up:  We have four Shins albums, which I think is all of them.  “Chutes Too Narrow” is excellent, but I have to put it behind the masterpiece that is “Wincing the Night Away,” and so it fall second.

As this is the last Shins album for review in the collection, tradition dictates a quick recap of how they stacked up: 

1. Winging the Night Away: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 366)
2. Chutes Too Narrow:  4 stars (reviewed right here)
3. Port of Morrow: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 442)
4. Oh, Inverted World: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 22).

Rating:  4 stars.

If you live with someone, there will always be albums that your partner or room-mate will play a lot.  Doing chores?  They’ll play a particular album.  Playing games?  Same album appeals to them.  Painting a room?  You guessed it – same album again.  This can be a perilous situation if the album isn’t to your liking.

“Chutes Too Narrow” is one of those ‘play it all the time’ albums for Sheila.  Luckily for me, I also love it.  Like my last review for KISS’ “Love Gun,” this is a tight little record, with just ten tracks and coming in at only thirty-three minutes.  I wouldn’t say “Chutes Too Narrow” leaves me wanting more, but it definitely leaves me satisfied.

The Shins make pop music (don’t let this whole fad for the word ‘indie’ fool you).  They make excellent pop music though, unlike most of the tripe that gets radio play.  I wouldn’t know if the Shins get radio play, since I never listen to the radio, but I hope they do – they certainly deserve it.

Their particular brand of pop puts songs together that embrace the genre’s very traditional and basic music constructions but then orchestrate the various instruments in novel ways.  The result is more about the whole sound, rather than any individual virtuosity.

If there is any standout, it is singer James Mercer, who is also the songwriter and general inspiration for the band (and the only surviving member, which is a bit weird).  Mercer has that modern indie-style voice which is high and tiny like a sixties teen idol, but with an added quaver that makes it feel more vulnerable and heartfelt.  Many of these songs would seem maudlin if it weren’t for Mercer’s delivery making you feel it so deeply.

Everyone else plays well, but the music is mostly rhythmic in nature, without solos or other attention being drawn to them.  Sometimes I miss the dynamics of solo virtuosity in indie music, but “Chutes Too Narrow” does a good job of establishing a thoughtful introspective mood.  It draws you toward it in a trance-like way that would make a squealing guitar solo or bridge just seem oddly out of place or jarring.

As a result, I’m sometimes lulled into the music so far that I don’t pay attention to what the band is singing about.  This is a shame, because unlike their preceding album (“Oh, Inverted World”) this record has Mercer combining the simple rhythmic melodies with some genuinely thoughtful lines.

My favourite song on the album, lyrically and musically, is “Pink Bullets” a song about a failed relationship told in part through the imagery of two kites entangled with each other:

“Cool of a temperate breeze

From dark skies to wet grass

We fell in a field it seems

A thousand summers passed

When our kite lines first crossed

We tied them into knots

To finally fly apart we had to cut them off.”

It is the tale of a relationship where the very things that hold it together prevent the participants from moving forward.  It is deeply depressing, but damned evocative.  Once the tragedy of the situation is understood, and the realization is made that it must end, things turn even worse, as love shifts to self-loathing:

“Since then it’s been a book you read in reverse

You understand less as the pages turn

Or a movie so crass

And awkwardly cast

Even I could be the star.”

There are other great moments on the album, most of which come on the back half of the album which is more introspective and interesting to me.  Notably “Gone For Good,” is another brilliant breakup song filled with the same vastness of regret and relationship disaster.

One minor gripe is that the songs are named things that are overly obscure, making it hard to remember the titles of the ones you like.  Just name it something that makes sense, James!

This album has come dangerously close to overplayed for me, but it is a testament to its excellence that even as I think to myself, that same album again” I still feel excited to hear it yet again.

Best tracks:  Young Pilgrim, Saint Simon, Pink Bullets, Gone For Good, Those To Come.

CD Odyssey Disc 495: KISS

On my way to work today I ended up matching the movement (and pace) of a curb sweeper vehicle for about three blocks.  It seemed every little side road I went down, this guy went down as well.  In terms of listening to my album, this was like having someone vacuum the living room while you try to watch a football game.  I just shut the headphones off for half the walk.

Luckily, this minor setback did not prevent me from finishing my listen to this next kick ass record.

Disc 495 is… Love Gun

Artist: KISS

Year of Release: 1977

What’s up with the Cover?  Covers don’t get much cooler than this one.  A group of beautiful metal babes gather in the temple of KISS.  Presumably their prayers are answered when the entire pantheon appears between two pillars.  Even at the age of seven I knew I liked this cover, which captures rock and roll in all its majesty and ridiculousness.

How I Came To Know It:  At the same time as I bought KISS “Destroyer” at the tender age of six or seven (as noted back at my review of that album at Disc 210) my brother bought this album.  Looking back, it wouldn’t surprise me if he subtly influenced me to get “Destroyer”, so he could buy “Love Gun” and effectively get to listen to them both.  Even if such skullduggery was afoot, I have no complaints – I got to listen to them both too.

How It Stacks Up:  I have ten of KISS’ studio albums.  “Love Gun” is the pinnacle – number one with a love bullet, baby.

Rating:  5 stars.

Thirty-two minutes of pure, unadulterated seventies rock and roll; furious, fun, sexually scandalous and entirely unapologetic.  That is KISS’ “Love Gun.”

From Ace Frehley’s ballsy opening rock riff to “I Stole Your Love” all the way through to the final track, a remake of The Crystals’ 1963 hit “Then He Kissed Me,” this record is a love letter to rock and roll.

The last song on the record, remade as “The She Kissed Me” has the great melody of the original Phil Spector track, but infused with Ace Frehley’s bright power chords it is brilliantly updated to the seventies sound.  I expect the sound of Ace’s guitar on this album inspired a generation of kids that would go on to make power metal years after.

Moreover “Then She Kissed Me” and “Tomorrow and Tonight,” (a KISS original party song in the same vein as “Rock and Roll All Nite)” have a sunny upbeat rock sound that shows signs of the music the band grew up listening to.  No, these songs won’t give you any fresh insights into life (although it is always good to be reminded that you can both rock all day, AND roll all night – or at least there was a time when you could).

KISS is never afraid to be lascivious and inappropriate in an effort to shock their audiences, but I don’t think they’ve ever done it so consistently as on this record.  The title track leaves little to the imagination, as Paul advises the object of his affection that she ‘pulls the trigger of my…love gun” and “Plaster Caster,” the song in honour of the groupie who famously made plaster casts of rock musicians penises, is equally triumphant and creepy in a way that Alice Cooper would be proud of.  Best line:

“Plaster caster

Grab a hold of me faster

If you want to see my love

Just ask her.”

Of course, at the tender age of seven, I had no idea what any of these songs were about.  All I knew (instinctively) was they had great melodies and the guitar really really rocked (Ace has never been better than he is on “Love Gun”).  Also, the songs were really easy to sing along to.  In fact, one day walking home from school (I think I was in Grade One or Two) I was happily singing “Christine Sixteen.” I was blissfully unaware that this was a song about some creep infatuated with a teenager.  Fortunately, it was a warm and sunny day and my Mom, having the house’s windows open, heard me coming down the street (I suppose some neighbours did too, in retrospect).

Anyway, when I got in the house she forbade me to sing those lyrics ever again, all the while resolutely refusing to offer any reasons why there was anything wrong with them.  Of course, once puberty hit I needed no further explanation.

The album is full of tales of the weird, the awkward and the wasted, all dressed up in memorable rock arrangements for our amusement.  “Almost Human” features a Caliban-like character, who is like a thirties movie monster, in that you aren’t sure if he wants to seduce or devour the object of his affection.  

“Hooligan” is about an underachieving punk who defines himself thusly:

“I got a thirty-five Chevy on a fifty-five frame

Can’t even spell my name

Dropped out of school when I was twenty-two

What can I do to satisfy you?”

And lest you think these lyrics were to have some negative effect on my young mind, I graduated high school just fine and University after that.  After all, it’s only rock and roll, not life advice.  The only lasting effect was my surviving love of hot rods, and I’m pretty sure that’s a good thing.

The musicianship on this record is the best KISS has to offer.  Stanley’s singing voice has a nice rock edge to it, but doesn’t lose its love-struck Starman quality when he needs to bring that side of it out.  Gene’s vocals hold up well, as do his tasty bass licks on “Almost Human.”  Even Peter Criss’ drumming is strong, even though his growing drug habit would soon derail his career.

The combination of lascivious vocals and power-chord, sixties-inspired rock comes together in a perfect storm on “Shock Me,” which surprisingly features Ace Frehley on both vocals and guitar.  From the roll of Criss’ drum intro to the crunchy and instantly recognizable guitar riff, this song is absolutely perfect.  Frehley’s guitar solo is brilliantly built, and the cooing of Paul’s background vocals is the perfect foil for Ace’s hints of sexual adventure.  Like the lyrics suggest, this song shocks you and makes you feel better.  So does this album.

Best tracks:  All tracks are awesome – sadly there are only ten.

CD Odyssey Disc 494: The O'Jays

Four of my last eight reviews have been ‘best of’ albums, which is seriously wounding my street cred of not buying compilation albums.  Listening to this next album has certainly inspired me to get some real LPs by these guys – I’ll keep my eyes out for sure.

Disc 494 is… Best of the O’Jays

Artist: The O’Jays

Year of Release:  20075, but with music from 1969 - 1974

What’s up with the Cover?  Three cool dudes hit the streets.  I can’t tell what streets, but since these guys are part of the Philly sound, I’m gonna go with Philadelphia.

How I Came To Know It:  I’ve known songs here and there from the O’Jays for decades, mostly on the radio or soul compilations, but my interest was seriously piqued by my buddy Tony who brought this album over once for a games night and left it here for a week.  I gave it a good listen, and then I gave it another good listen.  I think I bought it within a week or two after.

How It Stacks Up:  Once again – best of albums don’t get stacked up.

Rating:  Best of albums don’t get rated either – it just doesn’t make sense.

The O’Jays are soul personified, and I’m hard pressed to think of a seventies soul act I like as much as them.  The guitar is funky, but not true funk.  Then they mix in sweet harmonies, softer horns, guitar and straight up vocal excellence.

The blend creates a strong pop sensibility that I am sure went on to inspire much more insipid acts in the years that followed (first disco, then Michael Jackson and then modern radio pop).  It is hard to forgive such a legacy, yet I do so freely because in its pure form, this brand of soul excellence just makes me feel so good.

Generally, the O’Jays sing about three things – admittedly one of these things is not like the others:

1. Lovin’ your woman
2. Lovin’ someone else’s woman
3. World peace

This is a double album, and if you’re wondering if these three topics might get exhausted over twenty songs the answer is…kind of.  It is definitely true that the first CD is a lot stronger than the second.  The album isn’t chronological, which is how I prefer a greatest hits package, and instead feels like all the big hits are on album one, with deeper cuts on album two.  This is a shame, because there are enough great tracks to spread them out, and it would make the lesser songs be more strongly supported as a result.

But back to the themes, the first of which is music’s oldest; lovin’ your woman.  Soul is music made for passion, and it wouldn’t surprise me if many people around my age were conceived during a listen to an O’Jay’s album.

As much as I love the up tempo seduction of “Time to Get Down,” my favourite love song on the record is actually about troubled love, “You Got Your Hooks in Me.”  This song has a slow build, almost confessional our singer says he is ‘caught like a fish/and baby I just can’t break free,” with some amazing individual vocals leading up to high major chord harmonies of “I guess you’ve got your hooks in me”.  Considering the subject, the song is strangely triumphant.  It reminded me strongly of “Use Me” by Bill Withers, except instead of a sexy funk beat, the O’Jays almost sound like they’re singing a devotional.  They feel so good, feelin’ so bad.

The second theme is that of lovin’ someone else’s woman.  Two songs stand out here.  The first is my favourite O’Jay’s song, “Back Stabbers.” Crazy percussion, loungy horns, and the nastiest song about backstabbers this side of James Brown’s “The Big Payback.”  Best line:

“Somebody’s out to get your lady

A few of your buddies, they sure look shady.”

Not just one – but a few of your buddies.  Where the hell are you at, dude?

The other standout is “Listen to the Clock on the Wall” which is the double-double cross about two people each cheating on their respective spouses.  They are obsessed with the clock on the wall, lest one or both of them get caught in the act.  The song is about deep betrayal but the slow, romantic tempo would have you believe everything was right with the world.  This is a song about two people who are – deep down – engaging in the ultimate dishonesty, but the way the O’Jays sing it, you get caught up in the romance of it all, sordid as it is.  The best line is the double-entendre of “girl, you better hurry.”

This is the charm of the O’Jays, tackling hard topics, and bad decisions but packaging it in sexy vocals, and smooth melodies that let you see just how seductively the siren of desire will sing her song when she’s in the mood for love.

Strangely, this stylish optimism makes their more political songs that much more compelling, particularly when they sing about world peace.  In fact, there most famous song – “Love Train” – might seem on the surface like a love song, but it is actually an appeal for world love, not personal love.  That this song is now used to sell crappy light beer is a true travesty.

Less well known is “When the World’s At Peace,” which has a kick-ass guitar groove, paired with a horn flourish so precise it almost keeps the beat better than the rhythm section.

“I can see the day when it’s safe to walk the streets

When we learn to care for those lost in poverty

There will be no need for our daughters and our sons

To walk up and down the street singin’ ‘we shall overcome’

Do it to me now!”

I added in the “do it to me now!” because it shows that even while talking about something important, the O’Jays never sacrifice the groove.  These guys are so optimistic, that world peace seems like it is just around the corner – and this song is now over forty years old.  The best line is  Love’s not a state of mind – love’s a fact of life!” because the O’Jays aren’t interested in you finding love for your fellow man – as far as they’re concerned its already inside of us.  It’s a nice thought.

My only quibble about this song is that it has an overlong fadeout of them just singing ‘da da da…etc.’ over a lone cowbell.  Hey, I love cowbell but here I think they need more…of something else, or just the sense to call it.

The O’Jays are a fine soul act, and if you don’t have any soul in your collection then this is as good a place to start as any.  They’ll make you feel good about our human foibles, and then they’ll make you feel even better about our equally human possibilities.

Best tracks:  Love Train, Back Stabbers, For the Love of Money, You Got Your Hooks in Me, Listen to the Clock on the Wall, Time to Get Down.

CD Odyssey Disc 493: Charlie Parker

I was supposed to be practicing the guitar before writing this review but the Bruins were on TV.  I practice the guitar almost every day but the Bruins on TV is rare so I took a time out to watch it.  The Gods of Guitar Practice saw fit to reward me by having me watch us lose a two goal lead evaporate in the final six and a half minutes, as we lost to the hateful Penguins.  Well played, Guitar Practice Gods, well played.

Disc 493 is… A Proper Introduction to Charlie Parker (Star Eyes)

Artist: Charlie Parker

Year of Release:  2005, but with music from 1945 - 1951

What’s up with the Cover?  Charlie Parker blows his own horn, because that’s what Charlie Parker does.  I imagine he also addresses himself in the third person, but that’s just supposition on my part.

How I Came To Know It:  In my old job we had an intern one summer – I think he was in grade nine or ten – and he was getting job credits for school (nowadays it isn’t enough for kids to experience the drudgery of work upon graduation; they need to do it earlier – and for free).

Anyway the kid was a nice guy, and exceptionally smart, despite being only marginally reliable as a file clerk.   I took him for lunch one day, and while I imparted what I hoped was some worldly wisdom, we got to talking about music.  He was into jazz, and when I asked who his favourite artist was, he was unequivocal that it was Mr. Charlie Parker.  So I bought this album on his recommendation, because worldly wisdom isn’t age-dependent my friends.

How It Stacks Up:  This is a ‘best of’ and so it doesn’t really stack up at all.

Rating:  Best of albums don’t get rated on the Odyssey – that’s the drill, sunshine.

Brilliant jazz musicianship or aimless, harmless noodling?  Probably a bit of both defines my feelings toward Charlie Parker.

This album once again had me re-examining my complex relationship with jazz.  Although I am not a jazz fan, Parker is in my wheelhouse.  He plays pretty basic licks, and I can follow along well enough.  Somehow, I once again struggled to feel a connection to it.

It isn’t that it is instrumental; I find good classical music compelling and, like jazz, I have only a surface idea what is going on in that style.  I think it is that like a lot of jazz, I just don’t get the core emotion behind the music.

My main influences are metal and country/folk, and both those genres rely heavily on some emotional investment from the musician.  When Bruce Dickinson sings “Flight of Icarus” you can feel yourself compelled to fly so high you burn in the sun.  When Kris Kristofferson sings “Sunday Morning, Comin’ Down”, you can feel the impact of the can he kicks on your own toe, and smell the chicken down the street being cooked by some family that is – and always will be – happier than you.  It doesn’t have to always be this good, but there’s got to be something for me to hang my heart on once I come inside.

On a good day, like today on my walk home, listening to Charlie Parker makes me appreciate his virtuosity, which is considerable.  I can see myself in a European roadster, engaging in some kind of lighthearted chase scene through a sixties caper film like Walter Matthau in Hopscotch.  OK, Hopscotch was filmed in 1980, but you get the idea; it’s fun, it’s carefree and driving or walking – it is good toodling-about music.

On a bad day, like yesterday, it just sounds like someone bragging – at times almost braying – through a reed, just to show he can.  Feeling is an important part of music for me.  Just clever playing, clever note progressions, those don’t do it for me, even when they’re done by a master like Parker.

If I was going to get caught up in any kind of passion for this kind of music, I’d need more than three minutes.  Regrettably, “Star Eyes” really isn’t the proper introduction to Charlie Parker it advertises.  A lot of these songs seem like they are prematurely cut off with a clever flourish of notes (often the piano and Charlie’s saxophone playing off one another).  I think most tracks would benefit from being a little longer, and I’d like to think that’s how Charlie would’ve preferred them too.

Also, the album has way too many of these three minute tracks; twenty-five of them to be precise.  The album is seventy-eight minutes long, which is about as much as you can pack onto a compact disc.  The sheer assortment of tracks, coupled with my relative unfamiliarity with them made it hard to distinguish one from the other, even as I resolutely dug my hand in pocket as each one ended to check the names.

As I mentioned earlier, I had a pretty positive walk home with Mr. Parker tonight, and I was tempted to keep the album after all, but one experience turned the tide.  Over the weekend, my car stereo became possessed and almost devoured my favourite Neko Case CD (2006’s “Fox Confessor Brings the Flood”).  I rescued the album relatively unscathed, but I’ve been viewing the car stereo in a very untrustworthy way ever since. 

Tonight, driving Sheila to something, I decided to test the stereo’s safety for the first time since the near-fox devouring incident.  I barely hesitated as I put Charlie Parker’s “Star Eyes” into the player.  I think I cheerfully bragged to Sheila before I did it, just what risks I was subjecting it to.  A fine musician like Charlie Parker deserves a better home than that.

Best tracks:  Hell if I know – they all blended together.  I’ll pick Carvin’ the Bird, Chasin’ the Bird, and Scrapple from the Apple, because they’ve got groovy titles.

CD Odyssey Disc 492: K'Naan

I’m ready for spring to arrive.  It isn’t anything particularly bad about the weather lately, I’m just tired of wearing my winter coat and ready to just walk to work in a suit jacket.  I know what you’re thinking – I could probably do that now – but I have this rule that once I put the winter coat away for winter, it stays put away, and I’m not ready to risk it yet.

I’ve got a lot of dumb rules like that – keeps life interesting.

Disc 492 is… The Dusty Foot Philosopher

Artist: K’Naan

Year of Release:  2005

What’s up with the Cover?  Presumably this is an artistic depiction of a dusty foot philosopher.  This one’s feet would be less dusty if he road that camel instead of walking in front of it.  I don’t love this art but I like the inclusion of a boom box – nice touch.

How I Came To Know It:  I was a fan of K’Naan through the album that came after this one, “Troubadour” (reviewed back at Disc 347).  Recently I saw his third album for sale, but decided to take the opportunity to go backward into his catalogue rather than forward.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have the two albums, but I prefer “Troubadour.”

Rating:  2 stars.

On this record, K’Naan describes the dusty foot philosopher as “someone who lives in poverty, but in a dignified manner and…they talk about things that well-read people do but they’ve never read and they’ve never been on a plane but they can tell you what’s beyond the clouds.”  If you think you haven’t met someone like this then let me suggest you haven’t been listening closely enough; wisdom is all around us.

Unfortunately, “The Dusty Foot Philosopher” as an album is only half folksy common-sense insight.  The other half is the guy who thinks he’s the dusty foot philosopher who makes you wish you hadn’t listened so closely after all.

I’m an optimist by nature, so I prefer to err on the side of giving people – and records – a chance to wow me, so I kept this one on for an extra rotation before I decided what I thought.  The extra spin cycle definitely made me appreciate it more, but sadly not enough to lift it out of average.

Like “Troubadour,” K’Naan has a very good ear for adding African rhythms to modern hip hop song construction.  Sometimes world beats find themselves at odds with my Western-trained ear, the more so when they are awkwardly inserted into a song it is that much more noticeably worse.  The percussion on songs like “The African Way” fit in perfectly with K’Naan’s furiously fast, but precise rap delivery.  Add in lyrics about K’Naan’s first exposure to rap like “I remember I was seven/when rap came mysteriously and made me feel eleven” and the song completes its crossover appreciation loop.  Also worth noting that K’Naan’s love of rap goes to eleven; Spinal Tap would be proud.

Not so on “Hoobaale” which loses most of the western influences and sounds very traditionally African.  It isn’t a bad song on its own merits, but it is an odd fit on an album full of style fusion and knocks me a bit out of the mood when it comes on.

Overall I enjoy K’Naan’s rap delivery, but there are places on this record where he sounds too sing-songy.  This is particularly bad on the title track, which has a children’s song ear-worm quality that made me think it was taken from a Disney movie.  In other places he sounds a bit too much like Eminem, although props to K’Naan for rapping about worse situations than Marshall Mathers and still sounding more positive about life while doing it.

This album isn’t pure rap, it is more of a hip hop blend, meaning it relies a lot more heavily on melody and hook than simply rhyming.  K’Naan is a clever enough rhyme stylist that he doesn’t need the focus on hooks, but I like how he blends the two and he does so a hell of a lot better than the vacuous junk populating the charts these days.

In particular, “If Rap Gets Jealous,” which – although it sounds a little bit like the Stones’ “Beast of Burden” – is its own song, and just as catchy.  “If Rap Gets Jealous” also appeared on “Troubadour” in a more rocked up version, featuring Kirk Hammett.  At first I preferred the more rock version but the more I listened to this version the more I appreciated it, and I’d say they are equally good, and sufficiently different that I don’t begrudge them appearing on both records.

The album rambles a bit, and lacks the direction it needs.  There are eighteen tracks, which are way too many, and I think I’d upgrade the record to a solid three stars if he’d boiled it down to the best six.  In football, when you score a touchdown don’t overdo the celebration; act like you’ve been there before and you’re going to be back again.  Making records is the same; don’t act like it’s your last chance to make an album; you’ll make another.  Save the tracks for that and by the time you’re ready you’ll probably find that most of them aren’t worth including after all.

Overall, this is a fairly good record but I have a funny feeling that as years go by, I’ll be reaching for “Troubadour” the vast majority of the time I’m in the mood for K’Naan.  Musically, I like getting a little dust on my feet as much as the next guy but I still want to know where I’m going.

Best tracks:  What’s Hardcore?, If Rap Gets Jealous, In the Beginning, The African Way.

CD Odyssey Disc 491: Queensryche

Before I begin this review, I’d like to apologize to the band – I was unable to find the lower case ‘y’ accompanied by an umlaut.  Frankly, if I wasn’t going to search for the umlauted ‘o’ in Blue Oyster Cult, these guys were not going to get that kind of treatment.

Disc 491 is… Empire

Artist: Queensryche

Year of Release:  1990

What’s up with the Cover?  This graphically simple cover appeals to me.  A nice mix of strong, saturated colour and – since this is metal of a sort – a lot of black.  Also, a big silver “Queensryche” symbol.  What is it about bands that spell their name with umlauts, that they need a symbol of their own? (As noted above – the ‘y’ in Queensryche is supposed to have an umlaut – I promise not to mention it again).

How I Came To Know It:  I knew Queensryche way back in the early eighties when I saw their video for “Queen of the Reich” on the MuchMusic Power Hour.  I loved the song, but never bought their album and still don’t own that record.  I bought this one because I had heard good things about it critically and although it was monstrously overplayed twenty years ago, I have a soft spot for “Silent Lucidity.”

How It Stacks Up:  This is my only Queensryche album at present, so it can’t really stack up.  I have a feeling they have better and worse offerings, but at this point that would be idle speculation on my part.

Rating:  2 stars, but almost 3.

I admire a band that’s willing to reinvent themselves, even at the loss of some of their fan base.  U2 did it, Pearl Jam did it, Tom Waits did it.  Queensryche is not at the same level as those artists, but damn it, they did reinvent themselves, and that takes guts.

When I grew up, I was a big heavy metal fan, and for all the honest camaraderie among headbangers there was a judgmental element to any style of music that was considered even slightly outside the true metal sound as we defined it.  I used to refer to Def Leppard and Van Halen as “tinsel” because their hard rock sound didn’t rock hard enough.  This was despite the fact that those bands’ very early records actually have a lot going for them.  Hey, kids can be cruel and when it comes to music.

Queensryche was the opposite; they were a true metal band that decided that wasn’t enough, and began branching out into different, more progressive sounds.  “Empire” is an example of that decision.

The metal elements are still there, particularly the tone of Chris DeGarmo’s guitar and the high, symphonic voice of Geoff Tate.  The arrangements of the song are also very classically metal; riff driven, and ultimately melodic.

However, on empire the power of their Power Metal is tamed down, with more than a few quieter tracks, culminating in the middle of the album with the downright sedate “Silent Lucidity.” This song soared the charts in its day as it crossed over into the mainstream, and yet through some strange magic, didn’t lose the affection of metal heads.  It helps when a song is this pretty.  It begins with just a little isolated guitar picking, and if it weren’t for that ambient synthesizer to give the thing depth you’d think it was a Simon and Garfunkel remake (more on that later, though).

Even on more rockin’ tracks, like “Another Rainy Night (Without You)” the song really only kicks into gear for the hook and chorus.  The rest of the song is more ambient and moody than rock-driven.  In some ways it reminds me of a throwback sound to bands like Deep Purple, but it is clear the band is trying to add a lot of modern elements as well.  It mostly works from a production standpoint.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find the songs consistently memorable.  They are solid enough rock songs, but as Sheila correctly pointed out when she heard it earlier tonight on our drive home from the gym, it could be almost any generic hard rock act.  Worse, in places it sounds a bit too much like Def Leppard and other ‘tinsel’ acts.  I’m over most of the foolish musical snobbery of my youth – note that I praised U2 earlier – but if the sound ever approaches tinsel it loses me.

Also, while I admire the band’s willingness to experiment, it also means that the record lacks a bit of focus, and although the original record is only eleven songs, it seems to drag in places.

This particular CD drags a lot, being that it is the digitally remastered version and they’ve added three bonus tracks bringing the total music to around 70 minutes.  I actually didn’t mind one of these tracks, the semi-humorous “Last Time in Paris” which is the recounting of a gig gone wrong.  It’s “Lost in Translation” meets “Hard Day’s Night” with power chords.

Returning to Simon and Garfunkel, Queensryche another bonus track takes a run at re-imagining the folk classic “Scarborough Fair.”  This is a lot stranger than the gig in Paris.  The whole song is sung at the low end of Tate’s range, and the effect is to take away his greatest attribute (his high range) and replace it with a vocal that sounds like a kid trying to speak in a deep voice.  At one point in the middle of the song, they add in some heavy metal guitar and a bass-line that is reminiscent of Tool in its splendor, but as soon as they discover it they retreat back into the strange plodding measure the song begins with.  Queensryche just can’t resist trying to do a little bit more.  The result is that a promising idea just can’t get started long enough to draw you in.

Overall, I admire this record and I can see why it is beloved by a lot of fans.  It is at least three stars in terms of the quality of both the writing and the musicianship.  However, I have to be honest with my own reaction to it, which is a decidedly offhand shoulder shrug.  It isn’t enough to admire a band being brave; I also have to like what results, and for me “Empire” is simply OK.  If you like it more than that, I couldn’t fault you, but you’ll have to get your own blog to read about it.

Best tracks:  Best I Can, Jet City Woman, Another Rainy Night (Without You), Silent Lucidity and (from the bonus tracks) Last Time in Paris.