CD Odyssey Disc 1330: Gene Clark

My sincere apologies for my extended absence, gentle readers. The holidays descended upon me like a delightful fog and the New Year was quickly followed by a much less pleasant fog in the form of a cold.

However, I am now in full recovery from both effects and ready to face the tempests of January with whatever random music is thrown my way.

Disc 1330 is… No Other

Artist: Gene Clark

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover? A collage of images reminiscent of the 1920s or 1930s. This cover gives me a mild headache. I wish it were…other.

How I Came to Know It: I read a review of it on Pitchfork.com, who revisited the record due to a fancy new bonus edition released by 4AD records. I went down to the store and was delighted to find the non-bonus edition on CD, both cheaper and not laden with a bunch of extra tracks and demos. I’m usually happy with the original album.

How It Stacks Up:  This is my only Gene Clark album. I dabbled in his collection but nothing else inspired me to continue the journey at this time. I guess you could say there is no other Gene Clark album to stack against “No Other”. I might give him another try though, before I decide for good.

Ratings: 5 stars

Even after 1,300 music reviews something will come along and remind me just how little I know about music. “No Other” is a classic record featuring Clark’s inimitable talent for finding the hidden wellspring where the rivers of folk, country and rock and roll meet. However, until I read the Pitchfork review, I had no idea who Gene Clark was.

This despite the fact that he was both guitarist and a key songwriter for the Byrds’ two most commercially successful albums. I even blissfully awarded a 5-star review to Tom Petty’s “Full Moon Fever” (see Disc 510) without even noticing that one of the songs – “I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better” – was written by Clark. Just two weeks ago I was lazing about listening to Marissa Nadler’s 2018 album “For My Crimes” which features a song that literally mentions his name (“I Can’t Listen to Gene Clark Anymore”). Still, no light bulb went on.

Fortunately, I do not suffer from the peculiar malady described by Ms. Nadler, and so was able to walk the apparently well-worn road of being inspired by Clark’s greatness.

The record’s overall sound is something mid-way between an afternoon at a hippy music festival and late-night dancing on a shag-carpet in the basement rumpus room of some house party. Maybe all in a single day if you stayed hydrated and paced yourself. In short, this record is everything that is right about 1974.

Within that general groovy vibe, Clark demonstrates considerable range. The opening track, “Life’s Greatest Fool” is a jangling country track with a jaunty sway and the trill of a hillbilly piano. It is immediately followed by “Silver Raven” an ominous and mysterious folk-rock song with haunting bass lines and a delightful forest of minor chords to lose yourself in.

The title track comes third, keeping the bass groove, but throwing in reverb rock guitar and letting you know it’s time for bourbon shots. Each of these songs is brilliant on its own, but Clark has gone one step further and presented them to you 1-2-3 in exactly the right order.

“Strength of Strings” is the first step backward, a song that sounds a bit too like a Neil Young song from the same era, but without the emotional punch. Fortunately, you are immediately led back to glory with the sorrowful beauty of “From a Silver Phial.” This song drips with poetic quatrains, my favourite being:

“She was fire on the borderline
The lion in the fall of roles
Said she saw the sword of sorrow sunken
In the sand of searching souls”

I don’t know exactly what the hell is going on here, but I know it is sad and beautiful. “From a Silver Phial” is a perfect song; the kind that needs a meandering track like “Strength of Strings” just so you can feel the majesty of all that emotion coming back into focus.

“No Other” is loaded with many more amazing tracks, but what pushes it into greatness is how cohesive it is as a single piece of art. There are many styles of music being pulled into this record, but every one fits seamlessly with the next.

The production is also a hidden star on the record. The album sounds a bit quiet at first, but everything is nice and even in the mix. Your ear is free to flit from instrument to instrument and be equally fulfilled wherever you land. The subtle and subdued approach also enhances Clark’s vocals, which are thin and frail by nature, but gain an emotional resonance by being given a little room to breathe.

It is the kind of warm mid-range focused production that was built for vinyl and I expect would sound best there. The album was recently remastered and released with a bunch of bonus tracks (hence the renewed promotion) and if I were to get this again, it would be on record. I haven’t got the space for that, but I’m damned tempted.

Gene Clark left the Byrds in 1966, after being part of creating their two most successful albums (“Turn! Turn! Turn!” and “Mr. Tambourine Man”). It makes me suspect Clark of being the Byrds’ equivalent of the Rolling Stones’ Mick Taylor; the relatively unsung heart and soul of the band. Of course, I have no idea. Hell, I just discovered this record by blind luck when someone else reviewed a re-released version. So much music, so little time. Thank god for ignorance, where even old music will always be new to someone. If this is new to you, do yourself a favour and go check it out.

Best tracks: All tracks, preferably listened to sequentially as the universe intended. If you don’t have time, just go with the first five: Life’s Greatest Fool, Silver Raven, No Other, Strength of Strings (not the best but prepares you for…) From a Silver Phial