CD Odyssey Disc 731: James Brown

April, come she will. Before she leaves I’m squeezing in one more review.

Disc 731 is…. Make it Funky: The Big Payback 1971-1975

Artist: James Brown

Year of Release: 1996 but with music from (duh) 1971-1975

What’s up with the Cover? Almost prayer-like in his concentration, James Brown prepares to deliver the funk.

How I Came To Know It: My friends Nick and Spence both had this album and played it often. I coveted it for years but could never find it. I even contemplated burning a temporary copy off of them, but couldn’t do it. James Brown may be dead, but that doesn’t make it OK to steal from his grave. Buy your music, people.

How It Stacks Up:  This is a compilation album so it doesn’t stack up.

Rating: Compilation albums don’t get ratings, but if they did this one would do very well.

There is no one funkier than James Brown and his band. Song after song on this compilation deliver riffs that make your spine slide around in all kinds of pleasing gyrations.

It is no wonder that rap samples James Brown more than any other artist. The grooves are so sharply delivered you couldn’t do better even if you sampled and looped them. They slink along in a rhythm that makes you strut when you walk. Even though my walk to work is only twenty minutes, the groove stayed in my bones for hours after I reluctantly took the head phones off.  I would go so far as to say if you aren’t strutting when you listen to “Make it Funky” you aren’t listening hard enough.

The backing band are all virtuosos and James Brown is a masterful – if demanding – band leader. He is the Glenn Miller of his day, directing things with his voice as he demands the drummer to “get on top of it” and then “get into it” and the drummer seamlessly makes the necessary adjustments. Elsewhere he tells the trombone to play different styles of jazz in time with the groove, getting exactly what he wants every time.

All these instruments ‘hitting it’ and ‘quitting it’ in perfect time creates a crisp, layered groove where you can generally take it all in, or bend your ear now to the bass, now to the guitar, now to the horns. Whatever way you choose to focus, it always works.

If you prefer lyrics, the lyrics on this record aren’t that exciting. There are songs where Brown tackles inner city issues, such as “King Heroin,” “Problems” and “Funky President (People It’s Bad)” but this isn’t the focus of this music. This is music to make you move and have a good time.

In fact, the sillier Brown gets with his proto-rap delivery the happier I am. On “World of Soul” he spends most of the song just yelling out astrology signs followed by “Can ya hollah?” “Gemini – can ya hollah? Aquarius – can ya hollah?” His timing and enthusiasm are so good he makes such pointless rambling cool.

On “I Can’t Stand It” he calls for the band to play various forms of funk – “Georgia funk!” “Saltwater funk!” “Hambone funk!” – all of these funks sound the same, but they all sound awesome. You know they are having an effect on Brown as well, who at one point exclaims “I feel so funky I want to take off my watch and ring.” I think we can all agree that when you take off your watch and ring, it means you are feeling exceptionally funky. He later takes off his shoes for the same reason. At this point I would also take off my socks, because you just look silly in only socks, but this development is not mentioned. But I digress…

The songs on this album take their time to unfold. Many are six to ten minutes, but because they are such a pleasant groove you don’t mind. The best of them is “Hot Pants, Parts 1 & 2” which is the sexiest, funkiest song on this album. A song that leaves you feeling satisfied and sweaty, but a little bit disappointed that there just aren’t more songs written about hot pants.

It isn’t all perfect, though. At 13:50 “Papa Don’t Take No Mess” doesn’t have quite enough over the top exhortations or funky riffs to sustain itself. I would have cut this one off at 8:00 or so, but you can’t order the funk around like that. Funk is like the tenth muse; she comes when she pleases and you risk her wrath if you try to cut her off before she has fully shook her thang.

There are also remakes of earlier songs that have been funkified, including “I Feel Good.” I’m not a fan of “I Feel Good” generally, and while the funky version is better, it doesn’t do enough to make me love it.

While overall I prefer a slightly earlier period (196-1969 which is represented on “Foundations of Funk” (reviewed back at Disc 621) there are tracks on “Make it Funky” that you simply must own if you are a James Brown fan. In addition to “Hot Pants” you need to have “The Payback” and “My Thang” or you haven’t lived.

I slightly broke the rules on this album – getting my work station set up as I listened to the last five minutes or so of “Papa Don’t Take No Mess” and when I got home feeding the cat as I listened to the last five minutes of the funk. The whole two disc set is over two hours of music though, and allowances had to be made. I never insulted the Muse of Funk though; I was struttin’ and swayin’ the whole time.

Best tracks: Hot Pants Parts 1 & 2, I’m a Greedy Man, Don’t Tell It, The Payback, My Thang

CD Odyssey Disc 730: Neil Young

This week I had a lot of late hours at the office and I really needed a good weekend. Fortunately I got exactly that, with a low key time hanging with friends, playing sports, and spending my Saturday night with my lovely wife just hangin’ out, listening to music and playing a board game.

On the music front I am really digging Frank Turner, a folk/punk singer in the mold of Billy Bragg. I’ve bought three of his albums in the last two days. I also discovered the Ngozi Family, a seventies band from Zambia, courtesy of the guys at Ditch Records, who were playing it while I was busy shopping for Frank Turner albums.

The moral of this story is that you might work until your eyes go blurry, and you might get absolutely killed in a game of Ulti (17-7 if you must know) but if you are lucky enough to fill some of your time with the company of the people you love, listening to music that lifts your soul, then life is good.

Disc 730 is…. Ragged Glory

Artist: Neil Young and Crazy Horse

Year of Release: 1990

What’s up with the Cover? The fish-eye lens is like the semi-colon; you should only use it when you are certain it is the best option. That last sentence is a good way to use a semi-colon, but this album cover is a bad example of when to use a fish-eye lens.

How I Came To Know It: The boring old story of me liking an artist and just trying another one of their albums on a wing and a prayer.

How It Stacks Up:  I have twenty Neil Young albums. Of those twenty “Ragged Glory” is in the middle of the pack. I’ll go with 12, while reserving the right to bump it down or up a spot based on what happens in future.

Rating: 3 stars

For the second week in a row we have a well named album. “Ragged Glory” is exactly that, an album that mixes Neil’s early optimistic hippy vibe with the tattered, distorted rock guitar sound he started rocking a year earlier on “Freedom.” The glory is in the optimism and idealism the songs express, but the ragged edges of the song arrangement and production gives the whole experience a new, heavier experience.

For many of the songs on “Ragged Glory” you could unplug them and they would be at home on “Harvest” or “Comes a Time.” “Country Home” is a pastoral piece about life in the country. “Love to Burn” and “Love and Only Love” are both songs about how we all just have to love one another because, shucks, doesn’t that just make more sense? It would also have made sense to just put one on the album, though. Personally, I prefer “Love and Only Love” just because the lyrics are better.

Neil weaves electric guitar solos throughout these songs and this (plus the production) has the effect of turning three minute folk ditties into eight to ten minute rock anthems. All this guitar wankery could easily have become annoying, but because it stays rooted in the melody it just adds texture. Besides, if you bought a Crazy Horse album and didn’t expect to get some guitar wankery, then you have only yourself to blame. I could’ve lived with one less overlong song, though – the album only has 10 tracks, but clocks in at over 60 minutes which is a touch too much.

“Ragged Glory” is signaling Neil’s return to his roots, and it isn’t surprising that his next album would be “Harvest Moon.” That said, he isn’t saying goodbye to his angry rock phase entirely. “White Line,” “F*!#in’ Up” and “Days That Used To Be” are all songs about mistakes and the regret and guilt we build up over all those bad decisions in life. “White Line” is a song about surfacing from those bad decisions and “Days That Used to Be” seems more like an apology for making them. As for “F*!#in’ Up” – well, that’s a song about how it feels when you do just that.

And then amid it all, there is “Farmer John,” an irreverent burlesque-style number about nothing more than lusting after the farmer’s daughter. It is out of place on an album that is so heartfelt and weighty, but it is delightfully out of place.

“Ragged Glory” is a reminder that despite all of Neil Young’s songs that bemoan the state of the world and all its injustices he is, at his core, an optimist. Even when his music is at its most strung out and distorted, the core of it is about love and hope. As though he’s reminding us that if glory weren’t a little ragged, you wouldn’t know it had stood the test of time.

Best tracks: White Line, F*!#in’ Up, Days That Used To Be, Love and Only Love

CD Odyssey Disc 729: The Cars

It is another busy week for your humble author. I could’ve written this review last night but like a carpenter who can’t convince his hands to build any more furniture after a long day, I couldn’t get my tired brain to compose any more sentences.

This is just as well, since I don’t know this album as much as I should, and the extra day meant getting an extra listen.

Disc 729 is…. Candy-O

Artist: The Cars

Year of Release: 1979

What’s up with the Cover? One of rock and roll’s most iconic album covers and also one of my all-time favourites. I’m confident I don’t need to explain why.

How I Came To Know It: When I was a kid I owned a 45 of “Let’s Go” (it might have originally been my brother’s, but he passed it along). I used to play it all the time; occasionally on ‘33’ speed just because I thought it sounded funny (and still kind of cool) when slowed down.

I didn’t get the full album until fairly recently, partly because I wasn’t familiar with any of the other songs. Eventually, my desire to have a digital version of “Let’s Go,” my curiosity for the Cars’ sound, and my prurient interest in the awesome cover by pin-up artist Alberto Vargas won over and I bought it on disc.

How It Stacks Up:  We have three Cars albums, and of the three I must put “Candy-O” at the bottom of the pile. Here is the full list:

1. Self-Titled:  4 stars (reviewed at Disc 550)
2. Heartbeat City:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 562)
3. Candy-O:  n stars (reviewed right here)

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

“Candy-O” is well named. It is instantly enjoyable, but it doesn’t have much going for it beyond the initial sweetness, and it doesn’t fill you up the way you want.

The album launches itself with a bang, with the enthusiastic (and exhortative) “Let’s Go” a song about a seventeen year old flirt you’re liable to encounter on a Friday night if you’re out late enough. The girl is a ‘frozen fire’, has a ‘risque mouth’ and is so beautiful she doesn’t wear her shoes. I’m not entirely sure what any of this means, but who cares – the song is about being out on the town and seeing a pretty girl. Beyond that, it is such a fun tune that you needn’t worry about some deeper message.

The whole album is in the Cars’ singular style that mixes in new wave and classic rock into a perfect blend that shouldn’t work but does. These guys mastered the use of the synthesizer eight to ten years before anyone else, and no one else ever came along to do it better. On “It’s All I Can Do” the verses sound like a Talking Heads number and the chorus feels like ELO proto-disco, and weirdly, it all works.

There are no real stinkers on the album, but I couldn’t help but find myself comparing the songs to those on their self-titled debut. Their debut has the same incredible sound and ear for production, but the songs are just way better. As sometimes happens on a sophomore album, the songs on “Candy-O” have the slight whiff of B-side or cutting room floor about them. With a few exceptions they don’t have the same fully formed concepts as the record before.

At the other end of the spectrum, the album is beginning to transition the band into the more pure pop sound on “Heartbeat City.” Again, these aren’t fully formed yet. There are some cool sound effects throughout the album, particularly on the title track but even on that song it feels like the band is trying just a little too hard to be themselves. That should come naturally.

As a complete record, there is a lot to recommend “Candy O” and I think it would have been a pretty sweet house party album in its day. However, it doesn’t have the depth it needs – musically or lyrically – to be great. Fortunately even when not firing on all cylinders, the Cars still know how to deliver a fun ride.

Best tracks: Let’s Go, It’s All I Can Do

CD Odyssey Disc 728: Gordon Lightfoot

A few days ago I thought I was done buying albums by both Pantera and the Rolling Stones. However, because of my last review (Pantera), and a friend’s recommendation (The Rolling Stones) I was out yesterday buying one more of each…but I’ll talk about those when I roll them.

Disc 728 is…. East of Midnight

Artist: Gordon Lightfoot

Year of Release: 1986

What’s up with the Cover? Artists should stick to their strengths on album covers. For, Gord this usually means putting his giant head front and centre. On those few occasions when you see his clothes, it should only reveal that he wears threadbare jeans and hippy sandals.

What Gord does not do is wear eighties club wear or try to channel his inner lounge singer. That’s because when he does, he just ends up looking like a drifter who rolled Don Johnson for his clothes.

How I Came To Know It: I grew up with Gordon Lightftoot, but I found this album in a discount tape bin at A&B sound in the early nineties. I believe it cost $2.95. Nowadays all tapes cost that but back in 1990 this was a good deal for a kid living on a student’s income and looking for a bargain.

How It Stacks Up:  With last year’s giveaway of “Summer Side of Life” I am now down to nine Gordon Lightfoot albums. “East of Midnight” ranks ninth.

Rating: 2 stars

O eighties production, is there any style of music you can’t wreck? Apparently not, as “East of Midnight” proves that even Canadian folk icon Gordon Lightfoot is not immune to its terrors.

The album starts out with a droning electric guitar that is so fuzzed up and drained of life that at first I thought it was a synthesizer. Gord tries to save the day with his vocals, delivering some laid back lyrics advising you to “stay loose” (also the title of the song). The problem is that with all the thin, non-committal instrumentation it is the kind of staying loose you might experience in an elevator. You know, the listless boredom brought on by songs that have been transformed into muzak.

Much of “East of Midnight” has this effect on me. Usually the offending instrument is that bane of all eighties albums; the saxophone. On at least half these tracks it pokes its ugly head out of the song to blare away three or four notes that at best should be sounded by a guitar and at worst should not be sounded at all. I imagine sessional sax players made quite a living, sauntering into the studio to blow a few notes, pretend like it was jazz, and then saunter off again looking for the next easy mark.

Gord’s vocals are pretty thinned out at this point in his career, but he sings with conviction and for the most part his lyrics and innate understanding of how to write a pretty melody keep these songs from total collapse. Songs like “East of Midnight” and “Let It Ride” aren’t the best on the album, but Gord’s lyrics manage to keep them above water.

When that collapses too, as it does on the album’s nadir “Anything for Love” you’ve got nowhere left to turn. What makes this song so truly terrible? For starters, the synthesizer/keyboard crimes are worse than anywhere else on the record. Mercifully there is no saxophone, but the pointless and excessive background vocals more than make up for the absence. The melody is the biggest crime; an uninspired regurgitation of the vacuous radio pop of its day. This is thrown up with the workmanlike disinterest of a town drunk looking to mitigate the next morning’s hangover before he hits the sack. As you might expect, it is way less appetizing the second time around.

You can’t totally blame Gord for this one though, because the songwriter (and producer) of this song is none other than David Foster, committing yet another of his many musical crimes. The lyrics, include the mail-it-in schlock of “I’d do anything for you/You’d do anything for me/We’d do anything for love” and sadly, this part of the song is Gord’s fault. Maybe that’s the best he could come up with when he heard the tune. Fortunately no other songs on the record are directly “Fostered,” although a couple sound like it.

Despite all this disappointment, Gord is too good a musician to miss the board with every dart, and there are a couple of tracks on “East of Midnight” that I really like. “Morning Glory” has a sad resignation about it that sees Gord on the other side of heartache. Gone is his carefree highway and free and easy love. This is a song about the aimless wandering of the heartbroken. It is a reminder that on the road you might be free to go where you want, but you’ve also got a lot of time to be alone with your thoughts, and that’s not always a pleasant experience. The production sucks along with the rest, but the song’s innate prettiness shines through anyway.

The other track I look forward to is “A Passing Ship.” The big empty eighties sound matches passably with the imagery of a ship out alone on a wide ocean. There is nary a saxophone to be found, and the electric guitar has a relaxed feel that at once conveys both motion and an uncertainty of direction. Lightfoot sings about the safe ports that we keep in our hearts through unsteady times:

“When the sea runs high,

Th’ sea runs wild and I’m unsteady,

And I think of you,

In the warmth of your home and family.

When love is true,

There is no truer occupation.

And may this gale

Blow us to the ones we love.”

For these two good songs and some other more nebulous reasons – probably a combination of familiarity and a feeling of accomplishment of discovering this album on my own – I still own this damn record. Unlike “Summer Side of Life” I won’t be parting with it, either.

Best tracks: Morning Glory, A Passing Ship

CD Odyssey Disc 727: Pantera

I’m having a great day. It started with a fun game of ulti out in the April sun. Then lunch with Sheila and my good friend Nick. In a couple of hours I’m going to get together with a small group of fellow music enthusiasts share our passion. Before I do that, let me share it with you, dear reader.

Disc 727 is…. Vulgar Display of Power

Artist: Pantera

Year of Release: 1992

What’s up with the Cover? A fist punches a face. Being punched in the face is never fun, as this guy’s expression makes abundantly clear.

Based on this picture the album should have been called “An Awkward Display of Power.” I mean, who punches like that? Square up your fist man or you’re going to sprain your wrist!

How I Came To Know It: Another ex-roommate album from the early nineties. My friend Greg put me onto this album when we lived together. He bought it when it came out but I’ve only had it for fifteen years or so.

How It Stacks Up:  Pantera has nine albums, but this is the only one in my collection. I will likely get “Cowboys From Hell” soon but for now there is nothing for “Vulgar Display of Power” to stack up against.

Rating: 4 stars

So…heavy, so….angry, so…awesome. In the grunge-filled days of 1992 “Vulgar Display of Power was a kick in the balls of authority and a reminder that as bad as the hair metal of the past five years had been, metal still had a future.

That future was a perfect fusion of the ferocity of speed and thrash metal with a chunky, grinding groove that gets down into the deepest part of your guts and then slowly spreads up your spine straight up into the lizard brain at the base of your skull. Here is the place you get lustful and angry. Here the subconscious rules with an iron fist of self-interest. Here, “Vulgar Display of Power” finds a happy home.

For all their thickness and power, these songs are smartly constructed and they have a catchy riffs that make it easy to air guitar along with. The first four songs are a relentless – and intoxicating – assault on the senses. By the time things slow down a little on “This Love” you are welcoming the respite, but it doesn’t last long (2:35 or so) before even this song explodes into a churn of pounding drum and power chords. The energy Pantera has simply must get out and there is no room for a ballad unless at some point it is willing to explode halfway through.

Guitarist Dimebag Darrell (then called “Diamond Darrell”) keeps the groove going, and he also has some odd but interesting guitar solos. His progressions are inventive and have a vague hint of jazz about them, except for the fact that they are played at a hundred miles an hour. Darrell is definitely in the “play it fast” camp of guitar over the “play it with soul’ camp. This can annoy me sometimes, but not here. The solos are often split into two smaller sections, separated by more crunchy groove riffs. It works well and keeps the record’s relentless energy from every dissipating.

Philip Anselmo is one of the angriest singers you’ll hear, rivaling Rage Against the Machine frontman Zach de la Rocha for the title. I’m not sure what he’s angry about – authority for sure, as the main themes of “Vulgar Display” are about not taking any shit from anyone. Regardless, the lyrics on this album play second fiddle to the feel of the songs and Anselmo ably keeps the energy up. He delivers that energy in an angry growl, telling the world that he is fucking hostile and that passersby should just keep walking and not dare make eye contact for long. The lizard brain doesn’t like that.

“No Good (Attack the Radical)” has that weird rap/rock style that Living Colour and Faith No More were working at the same time and it sticks out oddly alongside the rest of the album, but this is a minor quibble on what is a classic metal record.

“Vulgar Display of Power” pulls no punches. It is angry, prideful heavy metal that gets your adrenaline flowing. Over time you might think it would be exhausting but instead it is exhilarating. A series of long nights at the office meant that I listened to this album almost exclusively for three straight days and I never got tired of it. If anything, it helped me harmlessly let off a little steam.

My next stop to the local record store will find me buying another Pantera album based on how much I enjoyed this one. If anything I’m surprised I didn’t seek more of their catalogue out years ago.

Best tracks: Mouth for War, A New Level, Walk, Fucking Hostile, Rise

CD Odyssey Disc 726: Concrete Blonde

For the last couple of years I’ve been trying to read more. I went from 24 books read in 2010 down to just 9 in 2013. Last year I had a bit of a comeback with 17 (and 13 plays as well) and this year I’ve already read 9 and hoping to keep up the positive momentum.

Why does it matter? I suppose it doesn’t, but it just feels more rewarding spending my lunch break reading a book instead of idly surfing the web.

For those who prefer to surf the web, I’m glad you ended up here. Now read this review, and when you’re finished go pick up a book.

Disc 726 is…. Walking in London

Artist: Concrete Blonde

Year of Release: 1992

What’s up with the Cover? Judging by all the slap-dash props and gold foil I assume the band has stumbled into an elementary school music production involving one of Martha Stewart’s kids.

Also of note is that organic sun/moon thing going on in the title. In the nineties this whole sun/moon decorating thing was everywhere. Sheila and I even had a rug with a similar design in our kitchen when we first lived together. Although ours did not have the sun trying to slip the moon the tongue like this one does. Yeesh.

How I Came To Know It: By the time “Walking in London” came out I had been a fan of Concrete Blonde for years, so this was just me buying their new album when it was released.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Concrete Blonde albums and this is my least favourite. I still like it in places, but it doesn’t hold up against their previous three records.

Since this also represents the last Concrete Blonde album in my collection that I have to review at present, a ranking recap is in order:

1. Bloodletting:  4 stars (reviewed at Disc 197)
2. Self-Titled:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 711)
3. Free:  3 stars (reviewed at Disc 229)
4. Walking in London: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Rating: 2 stars but almost 3

“Walking in London” was Concrete Blonde’s first album following their commercial breakthrough with “Bloodletting” and it is clear from the first track they are ready to keep pushing the boundaries of their music.

The basic Concrete Blonde sound is still there. A fuzzy cocoon of rock, heavy on the bass and the haunting but jagged edged tone of lead singer Johnette Napolitano’s voice. It’s as if the Cure got drunk on Jack Daniels and is looking for someone to punch in the mouth.

This feeling comes across on the title track. “Walking in London,” is a song with a menacing saunter to it that makes you feel like you got a bit too cocky in a foreign city and taken a wrong turn into a bad neighbourhood. This is a mood piece and an old friend for Concrete Blonde fans that enjoyed their first three albums.

While holding on to this core sound, the album also branches into a number of other directions. The hit single “Ghost of a Texas Ladies’ Man,” mixes this ice cold saunter with an up tempo drum beat that would be more at home on “Ballroom Blitz.” The moody vampire imagery common to “Bloodletting” is replaced with a racy encounter with the voyeuristic ghost of a long tall Texan. It is a fun song, and Napolitano displays a playfulness that isn’t to be found much on her earlier records. Best line:

“’You don’t scare me, you don’t scare me’, I cried

To my ectoplasmic lover from the other side.”

“Woman to Woman” is a dark brooding bit of revenge as the ‘other woman’ comes clean to the wife, but as a show of female solidarity. This is “Jolene” calling Dolly back to tell her she’s got nothing to worry about, other than the fact that her husband is a jerk.

There are lots of other little forays into other styles as well. “Why Don’t You See Me” is a weightless Pink Floyd mood piece, “Les Coeurs Jumeaux” is a bit of continental whimsy and “City Screaming” is a song about riding the bus.

Sadly, “City Screaming” also shows one of the record’s negatives; an excess use of ambient sound. Beeping horns, helicopters and car engines are added to make you feel like you’re in downtown traffic. I prefer when the music conveys those experiences directly, without resorting to the tricks of the sound stage. Similarly, “I Wanna Be Your Friend Again” has an interminable section where we overhear not only one half of an awkward phone conversation between ex-lovers, but Napolitano’s voice-over telling the woman what she should be saying. Again, I’d prefer some evocative lyrics over a self-referential radio play.

My favourite tracks are actually where the band just focuses on a simple melody. “Someday?” and “…Long Time Ago” are both oddly punctuated but solid pop songs. They could have ended up too sugary if it weren’t for the bitter grounding Napolitano’s vocals and lyrics give them. “Someday?” is “Joey”-lite but truth be told, I like it better than the band’s biggest hit.

The album ends with a strong version of James Brown’s “It’s A Man’s World.” This song has been a bit ruined for me by the parade of also-ran American Idol contestants that sing it every season. Concrete Blonde reminds me that it can be covered in a way that does the original credit, rather than as the vocal exercise it is reduced to on reality television.

“Walking in London” tries a bit too hard, and in places it loses focus or falls into bad production decisions, but the missteps come from an honest place of experimentation, so I tend to forgive its faults. It is like Metallica’s black album; not the classic sound of what came before, but still worth a listen in its own right if you give it a chance.

Best tracks: Walking in London, Someday, …Long Time Ago 

CD Odyssey Disc 725: Johnny Horton

My beloved Bruins tanked the end of the season and are heading to the golf course early this year. Damn. Being a sports fan can be hard. Anyone who says it’s no big deal isn’t a sports fan.

Disc 725 is…. Greatest Hits

Artist: Johnny Horton

Year of Release: 1961 but featuring music from 1953-1960

What’s up with the Cover? Johnny Horton looking very bonnie in his red blazer and white shirt. When I was a kid I thought Johnny was some kind of mythic hero when I looked at this cover. I still kind of feel that way.

How I Came To Know It: My Mom owned this on record and I put it on often as a kid. Now that record is mine (thank you Mom!) and I’ve bought it on CD as well since it is really hard to walk around town while listening to vinyl.

How It Stacks Up:  Best of albums don’t stack up, jerky!

Rating: Best of albums also don’t get rated, just reviewed. I have a studio album (sort of) by Horton as well and I’ll review that when I get there.

Back in 1961 when this album came out “best of” wasn’t really that different from a lot of regular studio albums. Through the fifties, artists just released a bunch of singles and when the Soulless Record Execs figured they had enough of them, they’d market them as an LP.

The year before “Greatest Hits” Johnny Horton had released “Johnny Horton Makes History” and seeing it do pretty well, I suspect the aforementioned Soulless Record Execs mashed a bunch of those songs into some of his other popular favourites and had at ‘er. Even my studio album, “Battle of New Orleans” is just a repackaging of a bunch of pre-existing hits mostly from the fifties, but at least it doesn't rub it in my face.

Of the 13 songs on “Greatest Hits,” eight of them appear on “Battle of New Orleans” (hint: those are the songs you’ve heard of). However, I’m going to focus this review on the other five songs.  I’m whimsical that way.

First though, I would be remiss if I didn’t say something about Johnny Horton in general. Horton is one of the most beautiful vocalists I’ve ever heard. He is part rockabilly fifties crooner and part country balladeer, and the combination is enchanting. His tone is pure and easy; capable of climbing way up the scale without ever losing its power or his undeniable ‘manliness’. That he died so young is a true tragedy.

Horton could have been a fifties pop icon with that voice but instead he chose to bring American history to life through music. Sometimes the songs are a bit hokey, but Horton’s sincerity almost always shines through. He also does some top forty type fare to show he can do that as well. These include playful songs like “I’m Ready If You’re Willing” slower tear-jerkers like “The Mansion You Stole” and the sublime “All for the Love of a Girl.”

All three of those songs aren’t on my other album, but given the subject matter I need to mention at least one song that appears on both of my records. That is “Whispering Pines,” which is one of the most heart-rending songs I’ve ever heard. I also holds the distinction of being the first song to make me truly understand what it is to have your heart rent.

I think I was around 9 or 10 when “Whispering Pines” first started to affect me. I loved being out in nature back then, and I think the song’s naturalist imagery appealed to me. I could key in on the Mourning Dove cooing tragically for a lost mate through the whispering pine trees and understand true loss through music, long before hormones would make me susceptible to the same fate. I’d wander the woods singing this song, reveling in the abject sadness of it.

“Whispering pines, whispering pines, tell me is it so?

Whispering pines, whispering pines, you’re the ones who know.

My darling’s gone, o she’s gone, and I need your sympathy

Whispering pines, send my baby back to me.”

To this day when I’m out for walk in the woods on a windy day (far less common in recent years) this song always springs to mind. Whenever I’m feeling lonely and forsaken it comes to me just as surely, no trees required.

As far as the history songs go, I’ll stick to my original promise and limit my commentary to the two songs that appear only here in my collection: “Jim Bridger” and “Johnny Freedom.”

“Jim Bridger” is the reason I bought this album, despite having more than half the songs somewhere else (did I mention that yet?) Jim Bridger was an actual legend of early America – an explorer and outdoorsman of the 19^th century. As a kid I just loved the heroic nature of the character the way Johnny sung it:

“Once there was a mountain man who couldn’t write his name

Yet he deserves a front row seat in history’s hall of fame

He forgot more about the Indians than we will ever know

He spoke the language of the Sioux, the Blackfoot and the Crow.”

The other song, “Johnny Freedom” is not a real character, but instead an amalgamation of a bunch of Americana virtues that are comically ridiculous. All the earnest storytelling of “Jim Bridger” is out the window. Horton lays it on thick from the start, opening with a banjo strumming “God Save the Queen.” “Johnny Freedom” dumps tea in Boston Harbour, pioneers out west and as evidenced by these lyrics eventually becomes some kind of combination of Abraham Lincoln, a hired goon and a gigolo:

“If we need a mess of thinking, he’s the Lincoln of the day

If we’re fixin’ for a tussle it’s his muscle all the way

If we need a handsome fella so the ladies’ hearts can throb

There’s a Yankee-doodle-dandy always handy for the job.”

Yikes. I am pleased to say at the tender age of ten I knew this song sucked as surely as I knew that “Whispering Pines” was pure gold.

Despite “Johnny Freedom” this Greatest Hits package is a brilliant collection of one of country music’s early greats. Over forty years of listening to it, I’ve never grown tired of it.

Best tracks: A whole bunch of great stuff also on “Battle of New Orleans” including “Whispering Pines” and  a couple of sweet tracks not on that record – notably “Jim Bridger” and “All For the Love of a Girl.”

CD Odyssey Disc 724: Guns n Roses

Last weekend my friend Casey came over and patiently jammed with me for a couple of hours. This was a bit awkward for me, because Casey is a much better guitar player than me. I was all over the place, missing chords, changing in the wrong spot, etc. but Casey never once attempted to murder me. He'd just patiently say, 'once more' when I screwed up D minor for the 50th time. Now that’s friendship; it may be sainthood.

Disc 724 is…. GN’R Lies

Artist: Guns N’ Roses

Year of Release: 1986 and 1988

What’s up with the Cover? Designed to look like a tabloid, half the headlines are song titles and the other half are designed to mock actual tabloid headlines. In the bottom right hand corner you can write to Axl Rose for advice. Getting life advice from Axl Rose seems to me like learning how to chop wood from an axe murderer. you might get  some  insight into how to swing the thing, but you won’t be making any long term friends.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve had this record so long I don’t remember. I probably heard “Patience” on MuchMusic and bought the tape (yes I  had this on tape) shortly thereafter.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Guns N’ Roses albums, and I’d put “Lies” second behind only “Appetite For Destruction” (reviewed just over a year ago back at Disc 609).

Rating: 3 stars.

“GN’R Lies” is really two EPs pulled together into one regular length album. The first half is a four song live set originally recorded in 1986 and the second half is a four song acoustical set recorded in 1988.

The first half is fast-paced balls-to-the-wall rock and roll fury. This section captures the unmatched energy the band had in their early years. When I owned this on tape these songs didn’t appeal to me. They were a bit too unfocused and punk for my ear then.

Over twenty-five years later I like them a lot more and I can appreciate their controlled fury a lot more. The best of them is a cover of Aerosmith’s 1973 track, “Mama Kin,” but I prefer the original.

They also do a cover of “Nice Boys” which was originally by some obscure seventies Australian band called Rose Tattoo (thank you, Google). This is a song reminding us that nice boys don’t play rock and roll, as if our mothers haven’t already taught us that years ago.

None of these songs really blew me away back in 1988 and while they are slightly better now, they still don’t rock my world.

When the album shifts to acoustic it gets a lot better. The opening song of side two is the aforementioned “Patience” which has some lovely whistling to get it going. It is really fun to whistle along to this song if that is your thing. Today as I whistled along a group of young women were crossing traffic in front of the car. The timing was a bit awkward – would they think I was whistling at them? They were definitely whistle-worthy, but I have this thing that I only want a woman to think I’m whistling at her when I actually am.

But I digress…

“Patience” is a pretty little song that is designed to get young girls to notice you. A real fireside ditty about how you’re willing to wait for that special girl, while laying some very thick romantic notions designed to ensure you don’t have to. For all its obvious artifice, it has a fine melody, and then with a minute to go it totally changes gears into something different but equally beautiful. Axl goes from pretending to be a sweet young boy, into his signature rock rasp. Nice boys may not play rock and roll but boys who play rock and roll get the girls anyway when they sing like this.

There is also an acoustic version of “You’re Crazy” which appears on the “Appetite for Destruction” in a much faster and louder version. “You’re Crazy” wasn’t one of my favourites on that record, but hearing it stripped down makes me appreciate it much more than before.

Despite the more relaxed feel to side two, it is clear the GNR boys are interested in shocking their audience. “Used To Love Her” is about killing and burying your loved on in the back yard. The band claims it is about a dog that wouldn’t stop barking, but the deliberate double meaning is obvious. Besides, how is killing and burying your dog in the back yard suddenly considered OK?

“One in a Million” then ends the record (with more whistling). Axl Rose throws as much racism, homophobia and general xenophobia into one song as he can manage. The song has some great musicianship and Axl’s vocals are impressive, but it is so deliberately offensive that it is hard to recommend. So I won’t.

Overall “Lies” feels like a combination of the band trying to quickly build on “Appetite’s” commercial success and seeing how many of their recently enlarged fan base they could piss off at the same time. Consequently you get plenty of the edge that makes a successful rock album, but not enough of the heart that should go along with it.

Still, there are some really strong individual songs, and plenty of really nifty whistling.

Best tracks: Patience, Used to Love Her, You’re Crazy 

CD Odyssey Disc 723: Whitehorse

This next album is a non-random album chosen so I could review it in tandem with the live show I saw promoting it.

Disc 723 is…. Leave No Bridge Unburned

Artist: Whitehorse

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? A very cool art piece by Jud Haynes, stylistically depicting the two members of Whitehorse fleeing a burning bridge. I love the way the “W” in Whitehorse forms the bridge, and the flames that burn beneath it are like the shadows of our fleeing protagonists reflected far back as though they are running into the sunset. Hand in hand of course, because while they’ve left no bridge unburned, they’ve still got each other.

How I Came To Know It: My friend and fellow music lover Kate is always on the lookout for great local concerts to go see. A few months back she sent me a link to a Whitehorse show on April 8. I’d never heard of Whitehorse, but when I starting Youtubing them I found that one of them was Luke Doucet – an artist I’d known for years.

More importantly, the music was really good, so I gobbled up all their albums over the past four or five months, including this one, which is their most recent.

How It Stacks Up:  I have four Whitehorse albums, although really they have two full length records and two EPs. I really like “Leave No Bridge Unburned” but because of the even more earnest love I hold for another record I’m going to put it second overall.

Rating: 3 stars.

Sometimes you discover a band that obviously just loves making music together, and Whitehorse is one of those bands. Sometimes that love overflows into some kind of overwrought mess without any focus or discipline. Fortunately, Whitehorse is not one of those bands. Instead, “Leave No Bridge Unburned” walks the edge of experimental without becoming self-absorbed.

Stylistically they are a mix of rock and folk, with an indie vibe. The two members – Luke Doucet and Melissa McLelland were established (if obscure) artists in their own right before joining forces, so for a new band the music’s structure is very mature, with a clear vision.

These songs could easily be folk songs, but it is clear from the opening track “Baby What’s Wrong” that Luke and Melissa want to rock it out. They make a lot of sound for two folks (more on that when I review the concert below). The layered sounds are cleverly constructed and never seem busy or muddy. Whether it is the band’s two principals or the producer, “Leave No Bridge Unburned” has a great ear for song construction, particularly how percussion and syncopation can add new dimensions to basic folk song progressions.

Luke’s guitar playing has a fuzzy reverb quality to it, and it is in nice contrast to McLelland’s very pure voice and more straight-laced country/folk vibe. There is a combination of musical styles mixing blues, rock, folk and country. At times it feels like a handshake, at other times like a sexy dance number, but you are always aware that there are two equal partners here, separate and apart, yet each giving a little to create a single art piece. It is no surprise to know that the two artists involved are deeply in love.

“Leave No Bridge Unburned” is a bit edgier than earlier albums, with more fuzz in the production and generally darker. I am feeling a bit folksy in recent years but if you are in more of a ‘rock and roll’ place, this may be the album to start with.

In terms of individual songs, I like the ones where McLelland’s pure and angelic voice is allowed to soar over top of Doucet’s bluesy riffs.  The best song on the album is “Fake Your Death (And I’ll Fake Mine).” This song makes me think about two people deciding to have a kid and move to the suburbs, and how this creates a whole new life. I’ve never done either deed (and don’t plan to) so the whole thing is foreign to me, but it is fun to see the experience through the lens of art rather than housing prices and school catchment areas.

I later discovered through some concert banter that it is about avoiding running into someone you don’t want to see anymore. That was Doucet telling the audience what he thought it was about while the writer of the song (McLelland) sat silent, so who knows. Maybe I’m right. Uncertainty is good – it makes you think.

Speaking of concerts, following is my review of that, but first – best tracks!

Best tracks: Downtown, Sweet Disaster, You Get Older, Fake Your Death (And I’ll Fake Mine)

The concert – April 8, 2015 at the Alix Goolden Hall

The first thing that comes to mind about the show is that the playlist was excellent. I got to hear every song I wanted with the exception of “Emerald Isle,” and then that got played in the encore, and all was good. This could be a function of a limited repertoire (two albums, two EPs) but that also means they have made a lot of good songs in a short space of time.

Whitehorse isn’t afraid to play the songs a bit differently either, muddying some up and switching up the arrangements here and there. Importantly, they never did this to such a degree of self-indulgence that they lost the core of the songs. Take note, Bob Dylan.

Live, I was impressed by the sheer musicianship of both Luke Doucet and Melissa McLelland. Luke plays the guitar and drums, and Melissa worked the bass and guitar. They even did multiple instruments in a single song. For example, Doucet would play a bar or two of drums and then loop and sequence it. Because it had just been played live before it was looped before your very eyes it never felt artificial.

What’s more, watching them run around from instrument to instrument was like watching your friend excitedly changing records to put on another track ‘you simply have to hear!’. It is a bit unfocused to watch, but the energy behind it is so pure you never lose interest in the spectacle.

The encore was even perfect, playing the aforementioned “Emerald Isle” and then a cool re-interpretation of Tom Waits’ “Gun Street Girl.”

The audience was a lot older than I expected. I thought I’d be one of the older people there but I was squarely in the middle of the demographic. That said, they were all serious music buffs, with the folks near me discussing the new Pink Floyd album between sets and being respectfully quiet while the band played. Everyone in the place was enthusiastic but never rude. No one tried to make the show about them instead of the performers by singing the lyrics a half beat early, or engaging in excessive ‘wooting’. I did excessively woot once at a reference to Harpo’s night club but damn it – long live Harpo’s!

On the negative side, the show had way too many delays. An hour before it started, and half an hour between the opener and the headliner made the audience a bit sleepy. (Remember, it was an older audience).

My other beef, which is becoming all too common at shows in Victoria, was the best T-shirt at the swag table being sold out.  I was disgruntled by this, but the alternate shirt was OK as well and was temporarily mollified. Then, when I found it was the first stop on their Canadian tour, I was disgruntled again. This has happened to me multiple times at Victoria shows – is it too much to make sure that you have all your merch available at the start of the tour?

The opening act was another duo; Seattle resident Noah Gunderson, accompanied by his sister, Abby. Noah could sing beautifully and was bursting with talent and promise but some of his songs were a bit overwrought. He needs to remember to enunciate the words to his songs, because dramatic effect only goes so far. He got better as he worked his way through his five song set but he didn’t drive me back to the merch table to find his CD.

CD Odyssey Disc 722: The Cure

Greetings from the middle of the long weekend! So far my long weekend has been a triumphant procession of fun including drinking with friends, lunching with friends, hanging with Sheila and generally relaxing.

I also took some time yesterday to do some painting and while I did so I was able to finish listening to my next album. Here’s what I have to say about it.

Disc 722 is…. Staring at the Sea: The Singles

Artist: The Cure

Year of Release: 1986 but featuring music from 1979 to 1985

What’s up with the Cover? A craggy old man. On the original release (titled “Standing on a Beach” the shot is a bit wider and you can see that he is, in fact, standing on a beach, but my version does not reveal such secrets. You’ll just have to use your imagination as to what he’s staring at. (Hint: it is the sea).

How I Came To Know It: I never liked the Cure as a kid, but when I moved in with my buddy Greg in around 1992 he had this album on tape, and we played it a lot. When I met Sheila she already owned it (or bought it soon after I met her) so this copy is hers.

How It Stacks Up:  We have three of the Cure’s studio albums, but I’ve already reviewed all of those. “Staring at the Sea” is a compilation album, however, so it does not stack up. That would be against the laws of God and man…and more importantly the laws of the CD Odyssey.

Rating: ‘best of’ albums don’t get rated, monkey! That’s how it works.

I may have never given the Cure a proper chance if it weren’t for the first song on “Staring at the Sea.” My distrust of the Cure’s “sound” was without foundation, but that didn’t make it any easier to shed. When the Cure was making all of this great music I was into heavy metal and only heavy metal, and when Greg first introduced me to this album, I was into Celtic folk music and only Celtic folk music.

Fortunately the album’s first track, “Killing an Arab” was a musical reimagining of “The Stranger,” which was not only one of my favourite books, but also written by Albert Camus, who in 1992 had recently blown my mind by opening it up to Existentialism. All the illogical reasons I had to hate the Cure up to that point were trumped by my interest in the masterful job of capturing that detached and amoral moment when the book’s main character, Meursault, shoots and kills an Arab on a beach because the man’s watch was reflecting in his eyes.

For a long time I’d just play “Killing an Arab” and then take the tape out, but over the years it became the gateway to the rest of the album, and I found myself delving deeper and deeper into it. At every tentative step forward, another great song awaited.

These songs have a haunting sound that is driven at every turn by intricate bass riffs. When I found out that the songs were all written by the drummer and singer, I was shocked. In fact, over the six years “Staring at the Sea” represents the band had three different bass players – Michael Dempsey, Simon Gallup and Phil Thornalley. I couldn’t tell you who plays on what song though – they are interchangeable in their excellence.

Even when it is Robert Smith’s guitar taking the lead, the notes are so low it still feels like bass. This is bass that serves the structure of the songs, rather than overpowering it like modern bass does to a lot of music.

Robert Smith has a great voice for this sound. Sure he comes off as a moody and ill-humoured Goth kid, but that’s exactly what these songs call for. And unlike the Smiths, the Cure is able to demonstrate thoughtfulness without always being depressed about it. It is OK to have existential angst and all that, but as Sartre would tell you, it doesn’t mean anything unless you act on it.

“Staring at the Sea” is a bit of a headphones album, meaning that when the sound gets dispersed into a room it doesn’t have the same emotional impact, but that’s not a problem. Some things only reveal their beauty to you when you give them your full and silent attention and Cure songs fit that bill.

I may never get a bunch of early Cure albums, but that isn’t because they aren’t great. Instead, it likely won’t happen because “Staring at the Sea” gives me such joy all on its own. I know this is against my usual rule of favouring to studio albums, but as existentialism teaches us, you have to constantly re-evaluate what you want in any given moment. If we didn’t we’d never get past stupid decisions of our youth, like not giving a great band like the Cure they chance they deserve.

Best tracks: Killing an Arab, Boys Don’t Cry, Jumping Someone Else’s Train, Other Voices, In Between Days, Close to Me

CD Odyssey Disc 721: Corb Lund

I’ve been working late all week and then going out shortly after getting home, so I’ve once again been slow to get my next review up. Here it is.

Disc 721 is…. Hair in My Eyes Like a Highland Steer

Artist: Corb Lund

Year of Release: 2005

What’s up with the Cover? Corb lounges in a chair, bootless and thoughtful. I know this scene is supposed to look very old school farmstead, but to me it looks more like one of those mini studios you pose in at a wild west show after they dress you up in ‘old timey’ clothes. Corb is the real deal, but this picture doesn’t do him any justice.

How I Came To Know It: As far as the artist goes, my buddy Greg introduced me to Corb Lund on a man’s holiday he and I and a couple other friends went on a few years ago. This particular album I first heard via my other buddy Casey (also on that trip) when he played three or four songs off of it, and I liked all of them.

Despite all that, it took me a while to find and I only bought it in the last couple of years during the great Corb Lund binge I’ve been on.

How It Stacks Up:  I have seven Corb Lund albums – I haven’t bothered to get his recent live release yet, but I’ve got all his studio albums. I struggle with ranking them. There is one clear winner but all the rest have something different I like about them. “Hair in My Eyes Like a Highland Steer” is somewhere in the middle. I’ll put it fourth or fifth depending on my mood.

Rating: 3 stars but almost 4

“Hair in My Eyes Like a Highland Steer” (hereafter “Steer”) feels like a departure for Corb Lund toward a more upbeat, radio friendly feel. You could argue this was already happening on 2002’s “Five Dollar Bill” but that record doesn’t quite feel baked yet.

As you may know, I have little to no time for the radio – satellite or otherwise – so being ‘radio friendly’ is not a positive. I don’t think an album should be rejected just because it is excessively catchy, though. Isn’t music often great because it is a little catchy?

“Hair” is definitely catchy, with two of the most ear-worm worthy tracks Corb has ever recorded starting it off. The title track is a grand old time with an up-tempo rhythm that is irresistibly good. The lyrics also hop to, with enthusiastic tongue in cheek.

Track 2, “The Truck Got Stuck,” is equally fun as it tells the hilarious tale of a bunch of men trying to get a truck out of the mud, and getting their own truck stuck in the process. The best of many great lines:

“Well we used a lot of our backs and a little of our brains

We jacked up the jacks and snugged up the chains

And we all did our very best to refrain…from shoveling.”

If you’ve ever ‘unstuck’ a truck you know that last line is very true. It always feels like you get out when someone finally gets down there and does some grunt work – after much contemplation of the various angles, options and varying determinations of “where she’s slippin’.”

These opening tracks stray dangerously close to that New Country sound that I am not at all keen on. It wisely stays on the “Alan Jackson” side of that line but not by much. If Corb isn’t slow-dancing with Nashville, he is certainly in a line dance with her, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and chancing a wink now and then on the turn.

However, there are no bad genres only bad songs, and Corb’s songwriting is more than enough to not only make this sound work, and do so in a way that instills it with a personal style that never sounds empty or corporate. It is kitschy at times, but never anything but a really good kitschy.

Not content to explore one style of country, Lund gets down into old school trucker music, songs about card games and down-home advice on everything from shooting a gun to warming up your horse’s bit in cold weather. This is music by a man who loves the traditional styles of country music and isn’t afraid to update them. More importantly, unlike a lot of modern country artists, he does so while keeping the soul of the experience intact.

Corb also strays into rock and roll, which isn’t surprising given his origins in stoner rock band “The Smalls.” “Counterfeiter Blues” and “Good Copenhagen” are both grimy tracks that mix that earlier rough stuff with outlaw country. In his hands it is a natural marriage.

The album isn’t without its warts. Lund’s love for the legends of yesteryear has him doing partnerships with Ian Tyson and Ramblin’ Jack Elliot that don’t really add much to the record (although like Corb, I’d also never pass up the opportunity to work with living legends).

This is a respectable album and its imperfections give it character. Corb was on the cusp of greatness here…but more on that when I roll it.

That’s a teaser, y’all.

Best tracks: Hair in My Eyes Like a Highland Steer, The Truck Got Stuck, The Truth Comes Out, Counterfeiter’s Blues