CD Odyssey Disc 1831: Tom Jones

As I pulled into my parking spot tonight my neighbour said with surprise and delight, “is that Tom Jones you’re playing?” Why, yes it certainly is – the skyscraper that is my musical tastes has many floors, and if you pick the right one you’ll find Mr. Jones waiting to escort you to the lounge for drinks, crooning, and whatever comes after.

Disc 1831 is…The Golden Hits

Artist: Tom Jones

Year of Release: 1986, but featuring music from 1965 - 1969

What’s up with the Cover? Feast your eyes, ladies, for it is Tom Jones, decked out in fancy blazer and ruffle-cuffed shirt, Behold the Welsh sex god, here to croon his way into your hearts, driving you to such distraction you may return home from his concert in a commando state of mind.

How I Came To Know It: My mom has been downsizing of late and recently passed along her CD collection. Some of those CDs belonged to my dearly departed stepfather, and Tom Jones is one of those (Mom’s more of a Johnny Cash kind of gal).

How It Stacks Up: This is a greatest hits record, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: Usually there is no rating for compilations, but this one is half songs from other records, and half singles? What to do? Stay strong, L – no rating!

Back in 1986 CDs were new to the market most who bought them were audiophiles willing to invest in new equipment – often middle-aged folks. With limited selection available, what to market to this demographic? How about some hits from yesteryear, showcasing the versatility of the new system: play whatever you want! No searching! No complicated needle drops! If the music is familiar, well, sometimes better the devil you know…

Tom Jones is definitely the devil you know. His manly crooning showed that you could be a little rough around the edges and still romance the hell out of that microphone. That deep and profound baritone vocal, reverberating through your bones, makes everything more important. And when Jones wants to climb up into a high head voice he does it with the sure-footedness of a man ascending a polished marble staircase in Cuban heels; dangerously, recklessly, and absolutely certain he will not slip or stumble once.

The songs on this compilation are all early Tom, from his first few records and singles in the mid to late sixties. There’s an undercurrent of that sixties British folk revival in the production and delivery, but Tom transcends that and makes things more grandiose and theatrical, like a collection of James Bond theme songs (n.b. Tom did to the Bond movie song for 1966’s “Thunderball” which is regrettably not on this record).

There’s little not to like in this collection of Golden Hits, as even the schlocky stuff like “Funny Familiar Forgotten Feelings” and “Without Love” transcend their own silliness, apparently through little more than Jones’ will to overcome. He’s one of the only artists I know that can both embrace schlock and then subsume it into genuine art. It’s a dangerous line to walk, but once again, there’s no slipping.

Jones is no songwriter but with his voice he doesn’t have to be. Can you imagine anyone else sing the jaunty “Not Responsible”? the tragic hyperbole of “Delilah”? Reader, you cannot. And while Conway Twitty and Merle Haggard both do strong versions of “Green Green Grass of Home” I gotta give the edge to Tom again.

Things aren’t perfect, however, even on a collection of Golden Hits. I know that “What’s New Pussycat” was a big hit for Tom, but this song was silly when it came out and it has aged poorly. Worst of all they refrain line of “you and your pussycat…nose” (later eyes, then lips) ends with a flat and discordant note that I can’t forgive. As the repeat listens I came to dread its arrival at Track 6.

Fortunately, the rest of the record was a lot of good, semi-clean fun. A love letter passed down many decades later to my stepfather, to my mother, and now to me.

Best tracks: Green Green Grass of Home, Not Responsible, It’s Not Unusual, Funny Familiar Forgotten Feelings, Detroit City, Without Love, Delilah

CD Odyssey Disc 1644: Various Artists

This next record holds a LOT of music and to get through it in a reasonable time frame. I had to get creative to get a full listen in and a review before my work week resumes, but the combination of the long weekend and getting out of bed early today has provided me the space and time required.

Disc 1644 is…We’ll Meet Again: 50 Wartime Favourites

Artist: Various Artists

Year of Release: 1939 to 1945 (OK – one song from 1931, but otherwise the war years)

What’s up with the Cover?  With the white cliffs of Dover in the background, we must assume this gaggle of partiers are storming the beaches of France. Despite the air support in the background, they do not look well equipped for the mission.

Or maybe this is post-war and these revelers are driving around some old equipment for shits and giggles.

How I Came To Know It: I was shopping for other music and this was sitting innocuously in a display, coyly calling out to middle aged history buffs with a penchant for war history and old timey tunes.

How It Stacks Up: This is a collection of music, not a true album, so can’t stack up.

Rating: As a compilation record, there is no rating assigned. If you want to know what I thought about it in more general terms, you’ll have to take a deep breath and read the review.

“We’ll Meet Again” is a large (fifty-song) compilation of music recorded and played during World War Two. With any compilation this big you’re going to have some winners and some losers.

It has been almost eighty years since the Second World War ended, and as time goes along, we remember the events, but it is easy to lose contact with the feel of those same events for the people who lived the experience. For much of the war, heartache and uncertainty were the order of the day, and the grief real and imminent.

In dark times I often turn to music to help sustain me, and the people living through the war were no different. You might expect music of the era to capture that uncertainty and turn dark and foreboding, but you’d be wrong. The Greatest Generation were also the “Rub dirt on it” generation. Don’t expect a lot of doleful music here – the people living through war opted for stoicism over sadness, and a stiff upper lip over a trembling one.

The word that kept circling around in my head as I listened to this collection was “escapism”. These are songs about pure love and joy, and even when the war is mentioned (as it often is) it is in a light-hearted way. Troubles with logistics and troops going without at the front line? Here’s “In the Quartermaster’s Stores” a humorous exploration that maybe the quartermaster just has bad eyesight. Young men feeling frightened at being so far from home? We have “Kiss Me Goodnight Sgt Major” asking the (presumably gruff) NCO fill in.

The marching tunes are filled with patriotic optimism. “Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition” and “There’ll Always Be an England” are prime examples, and these songs could double as marching tunes as well as a handy drunken sing-a-long for soldiers on leave needing to let off some steam.

There are times when this “what, me worry?” feel comes off as schmaltzy, with some singers laying on silly affectations a bit thick. Duo Flanagan and Allen are a couple of the worst offenders, but even their goofiness works once in a while (notably, “(We’re Gonna Hang Out) The Washing on the Siegfried Line)” even if this 1939 optimism was to be tragically disproved in the early years of the war.

What jumped out at me musically was how some of the specific artists were head and shoulders above their peers. Multiple Glenn Miller songs appear, and all of them were instantly recognizable. Miller was a force in this era, and his big band stylings are still as timeless and brilliant as they were when he recorded them eight decades ago.

The Andrews Sisters have many of the best songs on the record with “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” the best of all. If that song doesn’t put joy in your heart, you should double check that you have one. Other standout Andrews Sisters tunes include “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree” and a duet with Bing Crosby titled “Don’t Fence Me In.”

Bing Crosby is no slouch solo either. He is one of the great vocalists of his or any time, and “San Antonio Rose” is a vocal masterpiece. Crosby practically converts mono to stereo through the richness of his tone alone.

And finally, if you want to feel all the feels, the record features a number of Vera Lynn tunes. “Yours” and “We’ll Meet Again” are the tear-jerkers of the record, laden with yearning and the heartbreak of lovers parted. “We’ll Meet Again” also doubles as another barroom sing-a-long, and features a bunch of folks singing along in unison for the latter half of the tune, underscoring this as an option for you, the listener.

I’m a military history buff, and I’ve read a LOT about the Second World War, but listening to this collection of songs from the era provided a new and more emotional way to interface with the era through its art. I didn’t love all the songs, but I did love the overall experience.  

Best tracks: Chatanooga Choo Choo – Glenn Miller; Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy – Andrews Sisters; Yours – Vera Lynn; In the Mood – Glenn Miller; (We’re Gonna Hang Out) The Washing on the Siegfried Line – Flanagan and Allen; Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition – Kay Kyser and his Orchestra; San Antonio Rose – Bing Crosby; When the Light Comes on Again (All Over the World) – Vaughn Monroe; The White Cliffs of Dover – Vera Lynn; Don’t Fence Me In – Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters; Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree – Andrews Sisters; We’ll Meet Again – Vera Lynn

CD Odyssey Disc 1613: Lyle Lovett

Yesterday I posted my top 10 albums of 2022. Scroll down to the previous entry if you want to see those, but you should know, this next review is not one of them

Disc 1613 is…12^th of June

Artist: Lyle Lovett

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover?  Lyle Lovett loves album covers with an out of focus black and white vibe. Here, we have a single leaf in focus, which we are left to assume is meaningful. My first thought is that the 12^th of June is kind of early for the leaves to start falling.

How I Came To Know It: I have Lovett’s entire discography and I’ve been a fan for years, so even though I didn’t know he’d released a new album until I saw it on the shelf of my local record store, I bought it anyway on faith.

How It Stacks Up: I have 12 Lyle Lovett albums, which is all of them. The 12^th of June (his 12^th record – get it?) comes in dead last.

Rating: 2 stars

One of the great things about old friends is that over time you learn to set aside all those arguments about things you disagree about and just enjoy each other’s company. No need to rehash old grievances without purpose. Unfortunately, my old musical pal, Lyle Lovett did not get the memo, since “12^th of June” goes to considerable lengths to annoy me.

At this stage of our relationship (note that here I am referring to my long-time listening of Lovett’s music as a “relationship”. This is metaphorical only, Lyle – no restraining order necessary).

Anyway, at this stage of our relationship Lyle must know my general dislike of free form jazz. I don’t mind Lyle jazzifying his previous albums up a bit in a sort of big band way. Hell, I like Glenn Miller as much as the next guy. I can even forgive the occasional unexpected chord progression. But on “12^th of June” Lyle goes right in with the argumentative zeal of an old friend with one too many hi-balls in his system.

The opening track of this record is “Cookin’ at the Continental” and jazz is on the menu for every course here. I wasn’t even given the gift of Lyle’s immediately recognizable crooner-style vocals. Just all instruments running all over the tune with willful abandon, like a toddler teetering through the kitchen in muddy gumboots.

While this is the worst offender on “12^th of June” it is far from alone. There is all kinds of noodlefest and artisanal solos designed to prioritize clever seekers ahead of pleasure seekers.

It isn’t all bad on the jazz front. The second track, “Pants is Overrated” is full of big band fun and reminded me (favourably) of Lyle when he’s backed up by his Large Band. There is also some killer trumpet action flourishing away, and I am a sucker for a trumpet flourish. The notion that “pants is overrated” is a fun one, and well proved through the verses which include this narrow window escape:

“I'd have never made it out that window
If I'd even put just one leg in though
But as it was the circumstance
I gladly lost my favourite pants”

But then right in the middle, just when I’m ready to get back to a friendly visit, Lyle decides to throw in a verse to the tune of “I’m a Little Teacup”. Why, Lyle? Why?

On “Straighten Up and Fly Right” Lovett tries on at least two (maybe more) jazz instrumentals. However, this time the song’s glorious Sinatra-like swing led me to forgive this third transgression as slightly unsettling, but worth it.

One of my favourite moments on the record wasn’t even a song I liked, but rather a misheard lyric. Sheila and I thought “Pig Meat Man” was “Big Meat Man”. It gave a whole different vibe to the tune but even with the welcome and accidental innuendo, the song was just…meh.

For all this good-natured mockery (after all, Lyle and I are “friends” as described earlier) there were still some great moments on “12^th of June”, none more so than the title track. On this song Lyle goes back to his country roots, showcasing his ability to write an evocative, emotionally complex tune as well as anyone. He also demonstrates that even at the tender age of 65 he has one hell of a voice.

This record grew on me on repeat listens, which is a good sign, but it started at point so low it never fully recovered. I still love Lyle’s previous discography, but since this particular record will only put that love to the test, I’m going to do the responsible thing and part with it.

Best tracks: Straighten Up and Fly Right, 12^th of June

CD Odyssey Disc 1533: John McDermott

It’s the second straight review from 1999. I’d say that means tonight I’m going to party like it’s 1999, but I’ve had a hell of a long day and frankly, I’m knackered. Not too knackered to knock out a music review, however.

Disc 1533 is….  Old Friends

Artist: John McDermott

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? I feel like McDermott submitted this from a family holiday to the aquarium. The band of colour on the left-hand side is there to obscure an inquisitive sea lion hoping for a herring.

How I Came To Know It: I liked John’s 1992 album “Danny Boy” so when I saw this one many years later I gave it a chance. It helped that it had “Massacre of Glencoe” on it, which is one of my favourite folk classics.

How It Stacks Up: I have two John McDermott albums, and if you have been reading along you know which two. “Old Friends” is definitely the weaker of the two.

Ratings: 2 stars

Great singing has to hit all the notes no matter how hard, while making everything seem easy. On “Old Friends” John McDermott gets it half right. His voice is amazing, but he spends too much of his time very self-aware that he is SINGING. That alone can’t make your heart sigh.

There’s no denying McDermott’s got a set of pipes on him. This guy belts it traditional Scottish folk songs with the power of an opera singer. Listening to him en-nun-see-yate every word like he’s tasting an expensive single malt Scotch is a technical thrill, but I spent a lot of this record hoping he’d just cut loose.

Everything about this record screams “reserved and regal”. It feels like when you go to one of those special holiday events at some mansion or old castle. All the ladies have long dresses and all the gentlemen have suits and ties (and moreover, ties are required). There’s a whole lot of pomp and circumstance, and the booze is free, after you get past the obscene entry fee of course. And no matter how old you are, you find you’re the youngest person in attendance who isn’t behind the bar serving the sherry. At the top of the spiral staircase you spot a guy in tux belting out tunes. That guy is John McDermott.

On 1992’s “Danny Boy” McDermott lands a whole host of tear jerkers and heart-swelling tales of heroism upon the heath. I’ve had that record since around when it came out and I still pull it out from time to time when I’m feeling nostalgic.

“Old Friends” has a few moments of its own, notably “Massacre of Glencoe”. There aren’t a lot of songs that are the perfect intersection of tragedy and formal solemnity, but this is one of them. The song is the tale of the 1692 slaughter of the MacDonalds of Glencoe by order of King William III. I played it as I drove into Glencoe on a holiday in Scotland and I found it damned affecting. The chorus is a bit upbeat for my tastes, but when McDermott sinks into the verses you can feel him quivering with the rage of it all.

My favourite tune on the record is “Lachin Y Gair (Dark Loch Nagar)” which is a poem written by the Romantic poet George Gordon, Lord Byron, and set to music by his contemporary Henry Bishop. This song is a love song to Scotland and is the perfect belter for the overwrought power of John McDermott. He drops this thing like a bomb. Even the arrangements and production, that let so many other tunes on “Old Friends” down are perfect here. Of course, anything involving Lord Byron is great. I’m more of a Tennyson guy overall, but as far as the Romantics go, give me Lord Byron every day of the week.

While that stuff is great, “Old Friends” just doesn’t have enough of these moments. The songs routinely demand the same gravitas but rarely earn it, and the saccharine production does nothing to generate the missing energy. Lots of mid-tempo plodding, but it often feels like background music at a museum exhibit.

I’ll be keeping “Old Friends” for a few songs that make my heart soar (including a stirring rendition of “Amazing Grace”) but I know I won’t be putting it on very often. McDermott can sing with the best of them, and he is always on point and in tune, but this record needs to be a little more loose in stays to find the emotional depth it seeks.

Best tracks: Farewell To Pripchat, Amazing Grace, Lachin Y Gair (Dark Loch Nagar), Massacre of Glencoe

CD Odyssey Disc 1211: Frank Sinatra

As Christmas approaches I try to cut off purchasing new music but it has been hard this year. I’m in the middle of discovering a whole bunch of new artists and I’m eager to give them my money. Luckily, I have a few albums here and there to keep me busy while I wait. Here’s one of them.

Disc 1211 is… In the Wee Small Hours

Artist: Frank Sinatra

Year of Release: 1955

What’s up with the Cover? Frank is the paragon of cool as he steps out in the wee small hours for a smoke.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Gord was cleaning out a bunch of his father’s old CDs. He took a few photos of the collection to see if anything caught my eye.

How It Stacks Up:  I have a bunch of Frank Sinatra, but two are Greatest Hits packages and one is a live record. The only other album is “A Swingin’ Affair” from 1957 (reviewed back at Disc 922). It is hard to compare the jump and joy of that record with the quieter tones of “Small Hours” but if I had to do it, I’ll give the edge to “A Swingin’ Affair”…by a hair.

Ratings:  4 stars but almost 5

“In the Wee Small Hours” is a lonely city street at 4 a.m. There is no traffic. There is no wind. There may be rain, or if not rain, fog. It’s just you, your thoughts, and these songs helping you explore old memories and lost lovers.

The songs are an introverted affair. Quiet, contemplative numbers that despite being only two and a half and three and a half minutes long still manage to take their time lazily meandering through tales of unrequited love and regret. Despite this the music doesn’t put you in a sulk, it just helps you realize that sometimes the only company you need is your own.

Frank Sinatra is the greatest male jazz singer of his time. He possesses a rich full tone, into which he can inject as little or as much air as the occasion demands. His phrasing and timing are immaculate – the kind of perfect imperfection that no amount of post-production could recreate.

“In the Wee Small Hours” calls for a lot of reverie, and Frank is the perfect person to express it. His performance is wistful, but never absent-minded. Every word is a pearl, turning some pretty basic stories of the lovelorn into something deep and meaningful.

Supporting Sinatra is arranger and conductor Nelson Riddle. I wouldn’t have thought to look up Riddle’s name, except a fellow music enthusiast who rides my bus mentioned how great he was (thank you, David). On “In the Wee Small Hours” Riddle recognizes that these songs need a lot of quiet to sink in, and he supplies understated string and piano flourishes, that underscore every line Sinatra sings, while never upstaging him – as if that were possible.

I’m not a big jazz fan, and one of the reasons is I’m not fond of the overly creative melodic structures that value cleverness over listenability. “In the Wee Small Hours” is the exception. Often Frank resolves a melody in a surprising way, landing a note that feels slightly out of place, and yet fits in that moment. His masterful performance makes me appreciate and enjoy this experience, which I usually find annoying.

With so many “woe is me” tunes, this record could have easily fallen into the world of the maudlin. It does nudge up against that line here and there, but it never crosses over.

My main issue is that there are too many songs. Even though the total play time is only 50 minutes, with 16 tracks all so similarly themed, I was ready to be done the wallow a few tracks before the record decided to end it.

Overall, though, “In the Wee Small Hours” is a vocal masterpiece. It is the musical equivalent of spending an evening drinking scotch and thinking fondly of old lovers. I can forgive that the reverie goes on a bit longer than it should when it sounds this good.

Best tracks: In the Wee Small Hours, Mood Indigo, Glad to Be Unhappy, I Get Along Without You Very Well, Can’t We Be Friends?, I’ll Be Around, It Never Entered My Mind

CD Odyssey Disc 1127: Patsy Cline

I’m feeling a little tired today. Could be the weather, or maybe it was watching my beloved Bruins lose a hockey game. Whatever it is, it’ll pass.

Disc 1127 is… Gold

Artist: Patsy Cline

Year of Release: 2000, but featuring music from 1956-1963

What’s up with the Cover? The lady of the hour posing for some glamour shots.

How I Came To Know It: My mom loved Patsy Cline and I heard this music as a young boy. In more recent years my buddy Casey brought some over one night and it reminded me how great she was. Shortly thereafter I went out and found this compilation.

How It Stacks Up:  Anthologies like this one don’t stack up.

Ratings: Compilations don’t get rated because they aren’t true albums – maybe one day I’ll rank all my compilation records, but not today.

I’m going to put my musical cred on trial and admit that I watch American Idol. What can I say, it’s a guilty pleasure. You’ll hear a lot of talk about a singer’s tone on that show, and if you’re in my house when you’re watching you’ll hear me weigh in on the same subject. It’s because it’s one thing to be in tune, and it’s one thing to be in time, but that’s just the start of a great vocal performance. A rich and unique tone is that rare treasure that every A&R man is looking for.

Patsy Cline has it all. She walks effortlessly around the pocket like Frank Sinatra and can hit a note like Billie Holliday. As for tone – hers has a quality that approaches the mythical. When she opens her mouth clouds part, rivers run and sailors dash themselves on the rock, overcome by the beauty of it all. Hyperbole? Perhaps, but listen to her belt out “Sweet Dreams (Of You)” and tell me I’m wrong. Just remember to wipe away those tears before you do though; they’ll betray the lie.

Back in the fifties and sixties you didn’t have to have great dance moves to be a singer, and you didn’t have to be a songwriter either. You just stood in front of one of those big silver microphones and let those aforementioned A&R men scour the land to find beautiful words for you to sing into it.

You could say Cline benefited from these industrious labours; I prefer to think she inspired them, but that’s probably the romantic in me. In any event, this collection showcases some great songs that take full advantage of her instrument.

This collection starts appropriately enough with “Walkin’ After Midnight,” which was her first hit back in 1957. It is very traditional country in structure, with Cline swaying her way through it with effortless grace and some glorious steel guitar. However, Cline has a style that crossed easily between the worlds of country and pop.

There’s so many great songs in this collection, but my favourite is “She’s Got You.” I love the way this song’s melody climbs up triumphantly as Cline sings about all the memorabilia from a failed relationship, just to let it collapse back down as she laments “she’s got you…” Great stuff.

This is also a good time to give a shout out to the great musicians on these tracks (thanks again, A&R man). In particular I noticed the backup singers crooning away in the background. It’s always more fun to imagine yourself in the lead, but these guys made me think I could be happy just oohing and aahing behind the great Patsy Cline.

That isn’t to say it is all good. 33 songs is a lot of songs to wade through in one sitting, even if they are sung by Patsy Cline. Some of these songs are over 60 years old and haven’t aged well. “Bill Bailey, Won’t You Please Come Home” felt like a USO show and “South of the Border” didn’t get sufficiently “south of the border, down Mexico way” for it to feel authentic.

Fortunately, those are the outliers. More often than not Cline’s songs of love and heartache are so powerful they cut clear across the decades and into your soul.

In addition to being an inspiring listen on merit alone, Cline is integral to the growth of modern music. The musical structures employed here have been borrowed and built on to create pop, easy listening and country music alike for more than three generations, and they continue to inspire. While Cline didn’t write these songs, she gave them life and her vocal style remains a mountain modern singers attempt scale at their peril. I revel in watching them try it ever year on American Idol – please don’t tell anyone, though. I’ve got a reputation to think about.

Best tracks: Walkin’ After Midnight, A Poor Man’s Roses (Or a Rich Man’s Gold), Lovesick Blues, I Fall to Pieces, Crazy, Foolin’ Around, She’s Got You, Your Cheatin’ Heart, Why Can’t He Be You, Sweet Dreams (Of You)

CD Odyssey Disc 1111: Tom Waits

Welcome back to the Odyssey. I’ve got a lot to say about this next album so let’s get right to it.

Disc 1111 is… The Heart of Saturday Night

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover? Just another night on the town in what I think is…the forties? Much like Tom Waits’ music, this cover is hard to date but feels like it is from an earlier era. Regardless, we’ve all been this guy (or girl – pick one) out into the early hours trying to create some memories and maybe feeling the beginnings of a tension headache (or sore feet – pick one).

How I Came To Know It: I originally discovered Tom Waits through his debut album “Closing Time” but it took me a long time to dig deeper. Once I did, “The Heart of Saturday Night” was one of my early acquisitions, but I can’t remember why. The reason is lost in the mists of time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 17 of Tom Waits’ studio albums which is most – but not all – of them (I previously sold “One from the Heart” after much hand-wringing.

“The Heart of Saturday Night” does pretty well amidst tough competition. I rank it 6^th, bumping “Bad As Me”, “Bone Machine” and “Heartattack and Vine” all down one spot in the process. This is also the last of my Tom Waits’ albums waiting for review, so here’s a full recap.

1. Mule Variations: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 970)
2. Rain Dogs: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 619)
3. Swordfishtrombone: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 149)
4. Frank’s Wild Years: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 280)
5. Closing Time: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 40)
6. The Heart of Saturday Night: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
7. Bad as Me: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 775)
8. Bone Machine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 183)
9. Heartattack and Vine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 346)
10. Alice: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1061)
11. Blue Valentine: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 98)
12. Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 445)
13. Blood Money: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 235)
14. Real Gone: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 852)
15. Foreign Affairs: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 193)
16. Small Change: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 349)
17. One From the Heart: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 935)
18. Nighthawks at the Diner: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 147)

I can’t remember why I kept “Nighthawks” but I’m going to check into that and maybe say goodbye to it as well. The rest are keepers.

Ratings: 4 stars

As a young man moving I moved from an isolated small town to a city. Not a big one, but big to me. I was always drawn to the energy a city takes on in the wee hours of the morning. When the sun first goes down the structure of the day tries for a few hours to keep order, but the longer the lamps are lit, the more a new set of rules establishes itself. It is dreamlike, mysterious and a little dangerous if you don’t let yourself sway to its rhythms, or if you sway too hard.

“The Heart of Saturday Night” is Tom Waits’ love song to night and the city. It feels like the backdrop to a detective novel, or maybe just an ode to all the people caught out in the pre-dawn.

Individually, the album has high points, but it is how Waits sets the album as a mood piece that is a greater triumph. He blends the easy listening style of Frank Sinatra (or maybe a drunken Dean Martin), late night lounge jazz and backstreet blues, bringing it all into one tent. He grounds it there with gravelly vocals that walk lazily in and off the beat with sandpaper grace.

The album begins as late night evenings often do, with a bold promise to hit the town and hit ‘er hard. Or as Waits sings on “New Coat of Paint”:

“Let's put a new coat of paint
On this lonesome old town
Set 'em up, we'll be knockin' 'em down
You wear a dress
Baby I'll wear a tie
We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon
In that burgundy sky”

Spoiler alert: if the moon isn’t bloodshot yet, it is going to be before the night is over. Better still from “San Diego Serenade”:

“I never saw the mornin' 'til I stayed up all night
I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out the light
I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long
I never heard the melody until I needed the song”

Every time I hear Waits warble these beautiful lines I am taken back to the few times I’ve stayed up all night. Maybe I was watching some sporting event in another time zone, maybe I worked a night shift and was driving home or maybe I was just getting good and drunk. I can say that most of the times you do it, you remember it, and Waits brings it all back to you.

Whatever the case, Waits takes that moment and digs deeper, reminding us that big events happen in the moment, and you can’t fully imagine how they’ll go until you’re in them. Or as Waits sums it up:

“I never saw your heart 'til someone tried to steal it away
I never saw your tears until they rolled down your face.”

Waits’ night shifts through the various characters you might encounter in the dead of night. Folks at the bus station and truck drivers pulling a late shift both get their due.  “Shiver Me Timbers” is the song of a sailor bidding farewell to his loved ones, heading out at a strange hour because that’s when the wind and the tide were right. “Shiver Me Timbers” has become a phrase for mockery and bad pirate impressions, but Waits reclaims it and it gives you the shivers all over again, right down into the bones.

It isn’t all doom and gloom out on the town, though. “(Looking For)” the Heart of Saturday Night” is the ultimate drinking out weekend evening, with all the weariness of the week still hanging off our hero, he gets himself dressed up and hits the bar. The song has the buzz of pool halls, the feeling of having your arm around your girl and even a little melancholy after one too many – making everything seem so much more important.

That song comes at the end of the Side One and is bookended by the end of Side Two with “The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)”. A couple of songs that need a little less title, but like a late night out, it is hard to follow a single plot line for too long.

“Ghosts…” is all lounge piano and Waits crooning, as he gets down to the last people standing with the sun just around the corner. A solitary sailor “Who spends the facts of his life like small change on strangers” dreams of a waitress with “Maxwell House eyes
and marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair.” That’s Waits reminding us if you’re still up it’s time for breakfast. The early risers are starting to rise, and the day isn’t here yet, but it is close; threatening to dampen down the magic and get about its business again.

The album starts with a playful energy. Through the middle trumpets flare up and restless bass lines flutter and pulse with the energy of the night owls prowling the streets about. By the end everyone is worn out and Waits lets a simple piano slowly trail off with the rising sun. Like a good night on the town, the album is a journey you don’t soon forget.

Best tracks: New Coat of Paint, San Diego Serenade, Shiver Me Timbers, (Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night, The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)

CD Odyssey Disc 1027: Billie Holiday

I’ve been checking out a bunch of metal this week, as I reacquaint myself with what’s been going on in heavy music for the past couple of decades. It has been a welcome return to one of my earliest musical loves. I don’t’ like it all, but I like enough of it to know that there will be more metal entering my collection soon.

The early favourite is Opeth, who really blew me away. I’m looking forward to hearing more from them in the near future…on my stereo.

But now, because variety is the spice of life, some jazz.

Disc 1027 is…The Quintessential Billie Holiday Volume 9

Artist: Billie Holiday

Year of Release: 1991 but featuring music from 1940-1942

What’s up with the Cover? Not much going on here - Billie Holiday and a microphone. As Bad Santa teaches us, “they can’t all be winners, kid”.

How I Came To Know It: I learned about Billie Holiday through a woman I used to date who was a big fan. The first time I heard Billie was on a record player at two in the morning, which is exactly how you should hear her. When I saw they had put out a 9-disc set of her music I grabbed the best three I could and hoped for the best. This was one of them.

How It Stacks Up:  This is a compilation album, so by the rules of the Odyssey it doesn’t stack up.

Ratings: “Best ofs” and compilations don’t get ratings, since they’re not really albums.

There is something magical about being able to enjoy music recorded 75 years ago. That magical experience is helped along considerably when your guide is Ms. Billie Holiday.

Holiday is one of history’s great vocalists, and her combination of sweet, sad and world-worn is like a warm bath you can slip into and let your mind wander. This music is pretty far from my wheelhouse (I’m not much for jazz) but there were very few songs on this record I disliked, and a lot of that success was Holiday’s delivery.

She’s better when she’s being a bit sad, and when she sang upbeat tracks like “Let’s Do It” I found myself wishing instead for Ella Fitzgerald’s playful tones. That is the only time that happened though, and on every other song I’d take Billie singing these tunes over anyone else that was offered. This is particularly true on wistful tracks like “Georgia on My Mind” that feel like they were written for her and only her. Sorry, Ray Charles. This is just…better.

Holiday follows that classic with the sexy “Romance in the Dark,” which she delivers with an aggressive jump on the beat, brazen and unapologetic. The song also has a nice piano solo and a bit of saxophone, but at a running time of 2:12 not too much of either.

Most of the recordings on this compilation are around three minutes long, which is just enough time for Holiday to cast a spell, play a little with the melody and let some of the fine jazz musicians playing with her have a responsibly brief solo. I think I’d like jazz a lot more if it was always this restrained.

And so it was that I found myself looking up who played on “Romance in the Dark” only to find the people who’d written the liner notes complaining the song wasn’t longer. Different strokes for different folks, I suppose.

One song I didn’t love was “Mandy Is Two” a song about a toddler who is proud because she’s a big girl now (evidence: she knows her alphabet and can tie her own shoes). In the song Mom is sad to see her daughter growing up so quickly. Seriously, Mom – the kid is two, she’s a long way from grown up. The whole thing just felt like the world’s worst conversation to get trapped in at some society dinner party. “Ooh – did you hear that Mandy knows all her ABC’s?” “Ooh – you don’t say! That’s marvelous!”

Barf.

Much better was the classic “God Bless the Child,” a song about child poverty. Hearing Holiday sing:

“Yes, the strong gets more
While the weak ones fade
Empty pockets don't ever make the grade.”

Is a heartbreaking observation, and a hell of a lot more compelling than whether Mandy can tie her shoes.

Holiday does a fine job of walking the line between romance and social commentary. The musical interludes on this album are beautiful and well-placed as well, but the star is Billie Holiday’s voice, which reaches across three-quarters of a century to pull your heart right out of your chest. 75 years from now she’ll still be doing it to a whole new generation of listeners.

Best tracks: Georgia On My Mind, Romance in the Dark, God Bless the Child, Am I Blue?, Solitude, I Cover the Waterfront

CD Odyssey Disc 1001: Frank Sinatra

This weekend I got a bit out of hand on the music purchasing front. I’ve recently discovered a whole bunch of new (to me) bands and having the day off yesterday I hit the local record store with a vengeance. I’ll talk about those albums when I roll them, but here’s a teaser:

·         Imelda May “Life Love Flesh Blood”

·         Jens Lekman “Night Falls Over Kortedala”

·         Avett Brothers “I and Love and You” and “Emotionalism”

·         The Mountain Goats “Beat the Champ” and “The Sunset Tree”

·         She and Him “Volume Two”

·         Johnny Flynn “Sillion”

I listened to most last night and I’m looking forward to getting to know them all a lot better in the days, months and years to come.

This next review is an album I’ve already known for many years.

Disc 1001 is…Frank Sinatra’s Greatest Hits

Artist: Frank Sinatra

Year of Release: 1968 but featuring music from 1957-1967

What’s up with the Cover? The second Giant Head cover in a row! This one also has that sixties practice of listing all the songs on the front cover. I prefer them on the back, but I guess there was a bit of extra space, despite the chunk of real estate being claimed by Frank’s Giant Head.

How I Came To Know It: Back in the mid-nineties I went through a brief but torrid affair with swing music, and during that time I bought a bunch of Frank Sinatra albums, including this one.

How It Stacks Up:  Greatest Hits albums don’t stack up.

Ratings: Greatest Hits albums also don’t get rated. If you’ve been carefully following along for the past 1,000 reviews you will know this. If you’re here for the first time, now you know.

When I got into swing twenty years ago, it didn’t take me long to realize that Frank was the king and everyone else toils in his shadow. Hearing this greatest hits record, it is not hard to see why. Sinatra is the personification of cool, meandering his way through each song like he’s out for a stroll in a country garden.

A big part of this is Frank’s uncanny phrasing and timing. He can slide on or off the beat with ease, and he has an innate understanding of just when to do it. He holds a note a fraction of a second longer, then steps into a line just a bit early. The experience is like a Viennese waltz, twirling through the room, with Frank leading, drawing your ears to just the right note at just the right time.

Sinatra is from a generation where singers mostly didn’t write their own songs, but you would never know it when you hear him sing them. When Sinatra tells you: “the summer wind came blowin’ in, from across the sea” it is his wind and his alone. We’re just lucky he’s invited us into the resort so we can enjoy it with him.

And you can enjoy it with him! Despite Frank’s vocal prowess, he sings in a way that makes you feel like you can sing along. Not as good as Frank obviously, but like most good pop hit, these songs encourage you to jump in and participate.

Being the king and all, Frank is able to get the best studio musicians of his day and it shows. The band backing him up on these songs is sublime, playing with a grace and ease that is the perfect match to Frank’s laid back sound.

This isn’t music that is going to explore a lot of complex issues, or dig deep emotionally; the closest Sinatra comes here is probably “That’s Life” where he reminds us that whether you’re on a streak of good luck or bad luck, you gotta just roll with it. Chill out and have a martini or two and don’t take it personal.

This album was originally released on vinyl and the running length (a skinny 34 minutes) is a reminder that there was only so much space back in the day. Nowadays a Sinatra compilation would be easily over an hour and I’m not sure all those extra songs would make it better. “Greatest Hits” has 12 carefully curated songs that show various sides of Sinatra – playful, romantic or rakish – and leaves you wanting more.

About a month ago I went on a journey through around 15 of Sinatra’s most famous studio albums to see which ones I was going to get. While there were plenty of excellent options I realized that my infatuation with sixties swing has gone a little dormant. When I do want a shot of it, this Greatest Hits package will give me the fix I need.

Best tracks: Summer Wind, It Was a Very Good Year, Somethin’ Stupid, That’s Life, This Town

CD Odyssey Disc 935: Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle

As is often the case, I’m double-booked with activities tonight, so I’m trying to squeeze this review in before company arrives. By checking the time it was posted you’ll know if I succeeded.

Disc 935 is….One from the Heart

Artist: Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle

Year of Release: 1982

What’s up with the Cover? This album is a soundtrack to a movie, and this is the movie poster. I think that’s Terri Garr’s back, walking away. Judging by that suitcase, I think she’s gonna be gone a while.

How I Came To Know It: I can’t remember. Sheila might have bought me this one to round out our Tom Waits collection, or I might’ve bought it for her for the same reason. We both like Tom Waits.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 18 of Tom Waits’ studio albums. While technically this one is a duet album with Crystal Gayle, I’m going to count it. So where does it land? I left a spot for it at #14 but it didn’t inspire like I expected it to, so I’m dropping it down to #17 and moving everything in between up one.

Ratings: 2 stars

Unlike most of the soundtracks in my collection, I’ve never seen “One from the Heart”. Consequently I had to take the music on its own terms, but really shouldn’t every album be taken that way anyway?

In this case, the music is a lot of early eighties lounge action, with its feet planted firmly in the tradition of fifties and sixties musicals. I half expected Frank Sinatra to stroll out.

Instead, it is Tom Waits (who wrote the whole thing) and seventies pop heart-throb Crystal Gayle. I mostly remember Crystal Gayle from duets with Kris Kristofferson and from the tingly feelings she’d give me when I would stare at her sexy album covers. I was a bit too young to fully appreciate it, but make no mistake – Crystal Gayle was the bomb back in the day.

She also had a great voice that was full and rich, with a lot of range and power throughout it. Usually she sang in a style that mixed country and pop, but on “One From the Heart” she sings a lounge-style jazz which works equally well for her.

The purity of her tone is a nice juxtaposition to Waits’ whiskey-and-cigarette’s rasp, and the best songs on the album feature them trading verses.

The songwriting is excellent and thoughtful, which is what I’ve come to expect from Tom Waits. Here Waits has embraced the old fifties and sixties jazz sound yet written original songs that sound fresh and interesting. If you like to sit and listen to old musical soundtracks from that era, you’ll probably enjoy this record a great deal.

Unfortunately, I don’t really go for a whole album of playful crooning, particularly when the songs are so focused on telling a story that they don’t stand out on their own. The story comes through just fine: boy and girl have problems and split up, or get back together or…something. I guess it would have helped to see the movie.

But the soundtrack doesn’t inspire me to seek it out. Listening to the story it felt like I was trapped in an episode of Moonlighting. Will David and Maddie get back together? Won’t they? Will I care? No, I won’t. The songs may be pretty and well dressed up, but the narrative doesn’t hold me. Kind of like Moonlighting after about season three...

There are Christmas songs on the album, so I am guessing the movie takes place over the holidays, (which would also explain the fireworks on the cover). The whole thing captures the feeling on the album cover as well: rain soaked streets, city lights and a lot of wistful walking. Usually I’m a sucker for this stuff, but for whatever reason I couldn’t get into it today.

There are lots of reasons to like this record. Waits writes a beautiful song and Gayle sings them with grace and just the right amount of playfulness. The stripped down instrumentation serves the vibe well, so the production also hits the right notes.

Yet, for whatever reason this record didn’t resonate with me. I do like a few songs quite a bit, but taken out of the context of the album they lose their punch. Within the context of the album, I don’t have the patience to wait for them to show up.

And so I am going to send this album on its way to a home that will appreciate it more than I did. It is a good record, and deserves better treatment than I could give it. Picture me in place of Terri Garr, heading out to find a musical relationship that works better for me and wishing “One from the Heart” all the best for the same.

Best tracks: Picking Up After You, Old Boyfriends, I Beg Your Pardon

CD Odyssey Disc 922: Frank Sinatra

I was going to save this next entry for tomorrow, but I need to fill some time before I head downtown for some shopping and appointments. If I go too soon I could be trapped in some waiting room without a book! This will not do.

Disc 922 is….A Swingin’ Affair!

Artist: Frank Sinatra

Year of Release: 1957

What’s up with the Cover? It’s a collage! Frank’s giant head is superimposed on top of a bunch of swingin’ dancers! Ring-a-ding ding!

How I Came To Know It: I’d like to pretend I was on a mission to buy more of Sinatra’s studio albums but the truth is “The Lady is a Tramp” wasn’t on either of my greatest hits records, but it was on this album. O, the embarrassment…

How It Stacks Up:  While I have a live album and two greatest hits records, this is my only studio album by Sinatra. However, I’m about to embark on a bit of a research project and I expect that will change.

Ratings: 5 stars

It’s been over six years since I reviewed a Frank Sinatra album, and in the intervening time I’ve come across a lot of classic vocalists. Dean Martin, Bobby Darin and Louis Prima to name just a few. Listening to “A Swingin’ Affair” was a timely reminder that when it comes to this style of music, there is Frank Sinatra and then there’s everyone else. Old Blue Eyes, The Chairman of the Board - call him what you will - he’s the best.

“A Swingin’ Affair” was one of four Frank Sinatra albums released in 1957, a rate so prolific that today it seems unthinkable. Of course, today we expect our singers to also be our songwriters whereas in Frank’s days you had songwriting specialists sitting in a room cranking out classics. When Frank went to record the tracks I expect he was greeted by a bunch of studio musicians that were masters of their respective instruments.

Frank Sinatra was a big deal in 1957 and I expect he had his pick of the best songs and the best players. That freedom is evident on “A Swingin’ Affair.” The musicianship on this record is exceptional, with every note perfectly timed, and delivered with grace and elan. The band pretty much plays it straight and lets Sinatra be the star, but there is just enough jazzy nuance amid the easy listening to give the songs edge.

Similarly, the songwriting on this record is exceptional. Frank covers a few Cole Porter tracks, a Gershwin tune (“Nice Work If You Can Get It”) and a bunch of other guys that I expect are famous in the easy listening jazz scene if I knew that scene well enough to recognize them.

The songwriting excellence isn’t just the tunes (although those are amazing) but also some of the cleverest lyrics I’ve ever heard. The album is generally themed around playful topics that are up-tempo and fun. Even when they delve into unpleasant topics like relationship breakdowns (“I Wish I Were in Love Again”) they do it in a lighthearted way. Whether it is the turn of the joke on the third rhyme like here:

“The broken dates - the endless waits

The lovely loving - and the hateful hates

The conversation - with the flying plates

I wish I were in love again”

Or the complex metaphor and double-meaning here:

“When love congeals - it soon reveals

The faint aroma - of performing seals

The double-crossing - of a pair of heels

I wish I were in love again”

This line plays off of the idea of being ‘hot-blooded’ in love and what happens when that love cools off. Later the double meaning of ‘a pair of heels’ evokes both two contemptible people out to hurt each other, but also the sexy image of a woman’s heels, delicately crossed at the ankle. That is some clever shit.

Another favourite is “I Won’t Dance” which features fun rhymes like “for heaven rest us/I am not asbestos” to signify that a woman that is so hot the man can’t trust himself to dance with her unless he’s made of asbestos.

Making all these great lines and great music work is Frank himself. Sinatra has an effortless ability at phrasing a lyric, landing every punch line and swaying on and off the beat without ever losing the melody. He can tell you the same two and half minute story a hundred times and make it interesting every time.

On top of this, the man is pitch-perfect, with an easy, even power in his voice regardless of what note he’s landing. On many songs he shifts key and never loses a beat (except those beats he’s deliberately letting hang for a fraction of a second). Like Amy Winehouse or Patsy Cline he routinely hits notes that seem impossibly placed in the progression of the music and makes it sound sublime. I don’t know enough about music to know what’s going on, but I can tell it ain’t easy to do (just try to sing along on some of these songs and see how far you get).

Although I must’ve listened to this record four times in a row while preparing to review it I never got tired of hearing a single one of the songs. It’s a happy accident that I bought “A Swingin’ Affair” for a single song and ended up liking all 16. If that’s not perfection, I don’t know what is.

Best tracks: all the tracks, but I particularly like I Wish I Were In Love Again, I Won’t Dance, I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good and The Lady is a Tramp

CD Odyssey Disc 913: Jaymz B and the Royal Jelly Orchestra

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. Let’s get a little silly, shall we?

Disc 913 is….Cocktail: shakin’ and stirred

Artist: Jaymz B and the Royal Jelly Orchestra

Year of Release: 1996

What’s up with the Cover? It appears to be the lounge version of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. The Atomic Martini, I suppose.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Chris introduced me to this back in the heyday of lounge revival. I don’t know where Chris found it. I only know that once he did he knew he had to share it.

How It Stacks Up:  Jaymz B and the Royal Jelly Orchestra made eight albums from 1995 through 2006, but I only have this one.

Ratings: 2 stars

The mid- to late-nineties saw an explosion in lounge music, and whenever you get that kind of explosion there is bound to be some weird stuff around the edges of the resulting crater. This record is one of those.

I’m not sure what possessed Jaymz B and the Royal Jelly Orchestra to record an entire album of bizarre lounge versions of Canadian rock classics. I guess when you have a band name like they do, recording off-the-wall music is just what you do.

This album has all your favourites, and if they aren’t your favourites chances are they are someone else’s. Every one of them has been lounge-ified in the most ridiculous manner possible. If you just imagined how ridiculous they must sound, add at least two more steps up your ridiculous meter.

Some would say it would be hard to make “Safety Dance” weirder than it already is, but Jaymz B and his orchestra know better. Not content with lounge music and a saucy horn section, they throw in a sitar for good measure. Does it work? Ehhh…kind of. Let’s just say it works at first.

And that is the charm of this whole album; it’s fun the first few times you hear it. It is one of those records you put on while your friend is over and then smile like a total dork at them until they realize what song they are listening to. Then you say something like “I know, right!” and play a few more, not stopping until it is clear from their pained faces that you’ve played at least one too many.

This record features songs by Loverboy, The Who, Prism, Bryan Adams and the Crash Test Dummies, to name just a few. If you’re wondering what song they choose for each just think of the first song by that band that comes to mind. That’s probably it.

One of my favourites is Alanis Morisette’s “You Oughta Know” if for no other reason that it sounds like something from Sesame Street until the sing-songy vocal asks if your new girlfriend goes down on you in a theatre. Not the sort of thing Oscar the Grouch asks Big Bird. At least not on camera.

I also enjoyed Rush’ “Closer to the Heart” which has a crazy dragnet intro before the singer of the moment (the songs feature different vocalists) begins lounging it up, taking the philosophical musings of Neil Peart and belting them out for maximum camp. When you think the song can’t get any weirder, they add in the trill of an old school bicycle bell. Why? Why not!

While all the songs have their own…er…charm, not all appealed to me. The band tries to do “Takin’ Care of Business” with a Tom Waits style vibe, but it just came off as a cheap knock off. Do your own crazy thing, Royal Jelly Orchestra, don’t do Tom’s.

And on and on it goes, with each singer trying to outdo the last with the level of schmaltz they can inject into these classics. It is all done in good fun, but after the first few listens the joke has been had and you’re left with a comedy routine where you already know all the jokes.

That said, these songs are fun and Jaymz B works hard to make each one very different from the last. Ordinarily I’d complain with the sheer volume of ridiculous sounds and instruments thrown into each track but that’s sort of the point. It isn’t about great music, it’s about pushing the envelope.

These are great songs to throw into a playlist you make for someone else because it’s guaranteed to make them have a laugh. Even after the laugh, the bones of most of the tracks are good enough to make them listenable. But if you try to listen to the whole album a couple of times through (like I just did) you’ll find the experience wears thin pretty quickly.

On this CD Odyssey I’m on some albums are great, some are bad and some are just too strange to part with. “Cocktail: shakin’ and stirred” is one of the latter. It is weird as hell, and only occasionally good, but damn it, I’m keeping it.

Best tracks: American Woman, You Oughta Know, Closer to the Heart

CD Odyssey Disc 904: Various Artists

Apologies for my lengthy absence, gentle readers! I lost my MP3 player on Saturday night and have not been able to listen to music on the walk to work for most of the week as a result.

There is a silver lining though, at least for me. My old MP3 player was a 2008 Zen Mosaic that held 2 GB of music. It’s most salient feature was its annoying refusal to die.

My new player is a fancy 64 GB Sony Walkman A17 with all the bells and whistles a fella could hope for. So the reviews were slightly delayed, but now the music sounds so much sweeter as a result.

Disc 904 is….Wild, Cool and Swingin’

Artist: Various Artists

Year of Release: 1996 but featuring music from 1949 to 1964

What’s up with the Cover? A microphone holds a microphone. Do not be alarmed, the smaller microphone is not holding yet another smaller microphone.

This guy looks like he could date the martini garnish lady from the cover of “Bachelor Pad Royale” (reviewed way back at Disc 372).

How I Came To Know It: Back in the mid-nineties I fell for the swing and lounge craze like a lot of other people. I didn’t fall hard, and I didn’t fall long, but it was long enough for me to buy this compilation album of classic lounge tracks.

How It Stacks Up:  Compilation albums don’t stack up but since I have three of these “Ultra Lounge” albums I’ll stack it up against the other two. “Wild, Cool and Swingin’” is easily the best of all of them by a wide margin so #1, baby!

Ratings: compilations don’t get ratings!

This record is like a Sunday walk in the park: easy, breezy and fun. These are songs that make you happy to be alive, skillfully written, sung and played.

Hearing “Wild Cool and Swingin’” made me feel like artists paid more attention to their craft then than now. It isn’t likely true, but hearing these artists deliver such perfection it is easy to believe. The album features multiple vocalists, but all of them share an exceptional talent for settling down in the pocket that makes swing music work.

The musicianship is also incredible, likely because this is from a time when studios had stables full of musicians at their beck and call, and the best artists got the pick of the litter. It really shows.

The times were never ‘simpler’ (every age has its issues) but the music on this record paints a picture that suggests it was. People went out and about, met one another, batted eyelashes and fell in love. The songs on this record are usually playful, occasionally sexy and always full of energy.

Back in our Lounge revival days of the mid to late nineties Sheila and I both played this album often, and it was a staple at parties in the era before you could just load music onto a memory stick. It is just good music for sunshine, laughter and the tinkling of bar glasses.

It is hard to pick out favourites, but there are a few. The record starts with the flourish of trumpets and swingin’ Dean Martin singing “Ain’t that a Kick in the Head” as though that would be the most marvelous experience ever. Peggy Lee’s sultry rendition of “Fever” is an all-time classic and for a more playful couple’s version of similarly heavy flirtation I recommend Louis Prima and Keely Smith singing “That Old Black Magic”.

Prima does a solo number, “Closer to the Bone” that is mildly inappropriate but undeniably fun about a guy who likes skinny girls, full of metaphors about just how skinny his gal is:

“Now she’d make a good thermometer

If she drank a glass of wine

She’s built just like a garter snake

She climbs up like a vine.”

The idea that sixty years ago someone would write a song feeling the need to defend how he likes slender women shows just how inconstant the nature of beauty is. It would be easy to see this song as a slice of fifties sexism, but I prefer to see it as a reminder that we shouldn’t get all wrought up about classical notions of beauty; they’re going to change soon enough anyway.

My favourite song on the record is “Sunday In New York” which is a Bobby Darin track I’d never heard until I got this record, but damn if it isn’t perfection. Sunny horn flourishes match ambling piano riffs in the perfect song for a stroll. The song begins:

“New York on Sunday,

Big City taking a nap!

Slow down, it's Sunday!

Life's a ball, let it fall in your lap!”

The way Darin snaps out the second line is perfect; New York City’s feeling a bit snoozy, but even a nap in the Big Apple has some pizzazz to it, and in Central Park love is around every corner.

The album could feel a bit bloated at 18 tracks, but I’m going to let it slide. For one thing, the songs are all so short that the total playing time is still only 49 minutes. Also, I’d have a tough time cutting many of them out, they are so good. There are a couple of schmaltzy numbers like Wayne Newton’s “Danke Schoen” (I’ve never liked that song) but for the most part even the lesser tracks are still a fun little musical stroll.

Best tracks:  Ain’t that a Kick in the Head, Dig that Crazy Chick, Fever, Jump Jive n’ Wail, French Poodle, Sunday in New York, Closer to the Bone, That Old Black Magic

CD Odyssey Disc 895: Leonard Cohen

Having had an unpleasant encounter with our medical system, I am now home to enjoy what remains of a day off.

My family doctor retired. This means when I have a routine medical question for a doctor I have to go sit in a clinic waiting room with a motley mix of sick people and hypochondriacs. Two hours into what I was told was a one hour wait, and two patients after I was told there was only one patient in front of me, my patience for being a patient (which is never high) had evaporated. I left. At least I had a good book to keep me company.

Disc 895 is….The Future

Artist: Leonard Cohen

Year of Release: 1992

What’s up with the Cover? I don’t mind the theme of this logo – I like hummingbirds, hearts and handcuffs as much as the next guy – but seeing it always makes me feel a little regret. I saw this tour back in the day and didn’t buy a t-shirt from the merch table, and seeing the album cover always makes me wish I had.

How I Came To Know It: I owned “I’m Your Man” and “Various Positions” on tape at this time and loved them both, so when a new Cohen album came out, I bought it immediately on the exciting new format of CD!

How It Stacks Up:  I have 12 of Cohen’s studio albums and 1 live record. Of the 12 studio albums “The Future” is way up at fourth best, which is some pretty rarified company.

Ratings: 4 stars

In 1992 the 58 year old Cohen was dating 33 year old movie star Rebecca de Mornay. Whatever vitality he managed to siphon out of rocking that cradle definitely makes it onto “The Future,” which is infused with large helpings of raw energy and restless romanticism.

This album has received a ton of playtime over the years: a combination of me really loving it, and only owning a handful of CDs at the time. I could probably quote the whole thing line for line as it played. Of course I don’t do that, as I am not a total douchebag.

I’ve probably given this album too much play, because all my intimate knowledge of it somewhat deadens the impact it used to have on me.

This is a damned shame, because this is a great record. It is hopeful and apocalyptic in equal measure, with a groovy jazz backbeat feeling that never falls into the muddy note-frenzy mania of true jazz. Cohen records often have bad production, but not “the Future” which is rich and deep like Cohen’s gravelly voice, but sparse enough so every word has room to sink in.

The opening (and title) track is Cohen’s commentary on the future. Cohen sees the lack of our traditional Western notions of right and wrong in the wake of the Cold War, and seems to simultaneously despair and revel in the results. It is a great opening salvo on a record that is exploring where we are going as a society, and how Cohen reflects that examination back on himself as a man.

The album’s radio single (or what passes for a radio single from a poet like Cohen) is “Closing Time.” This song is the perfect snapshot of the end of a night at the club, when the lights come with all that ramped up drunken, sexualized energy still lingering in the air. In 1992 I was single and doing a lot of clubbing and this song really captures the experience. Years later it is a pleasant reminder of what it all felt like: the booze-soaked carpet, the half-committed, half-dismissive smile of the woman across from you, and the bouncers, slowly herding the lot of you closer and closer to the door.

Mid-way through the album “Democracy” is the companion piece to the title track’s opening challenge, with Cohen expressing a complex mix of accusation, optimism and maybe just a little fatigue with the whole thing. Cohen is one of the world’s great poets, and I could quote the whole song, but for the sake of brevity here are a couple of my favourite selections. First Cohen’s romantic notion of American democracy:

“It’s coming to America first,

The cradle of the best and of the worst

It’s here they got the range

And the machinery for change

And it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.”

And a reminder that sometimes you just need to put the placard down and spend a quiet night in:

“I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean

I love the country but I can’t stand the scene

And I’m neither left or right

I’m just staying home tonight

Getting lost in that hopeless little screen.”

And the whole of it set to the beat of drums more at home during a military march than a pop song, reminding us that democracy has always been a struggle, and that’s what helps make it great.

Cohen even takes his turn at a couple of covers. He does “Be For Real,”a Frederick Knight song recorded by Marlena Shaw in 1976. Shaw’s version (which you can hear here) is pretty sweet, but at 58 Cohen still manages to out-sexy her. That “Be For Real” can hold up to the amazing poetry in other tracks on “The Future” is a testament to both its strength as a song and Cohen’s delivery.

Cohen also covers Irving Berlin’s “Always” and while it is OK, it drags on too long. At eight minutes, and full of background sounds of people drinking and mingling, it fails on the production side as well. If “Closing Time” is what a happening club sounds like at the end of the night, then “Always” is what that same club sounds like forty years later when the upholstery is all stained and only the local booze donkeys frequent the place.

The album ends with an instrumental, “Tacoma Trailer” and at his live shows Cohen will still plunk this thing out on a little stand up organ. It is a beautiful mood piece that showcases Cohen’s talents as a songwriter, even when he isn’t relying on his incredible talent as a poet.

Over the years the song that has always stuck with me the most is “Anthem,” a song about hope and hanging in there. Its chorus holds what I think is the album’s main message, and a great piece of advice that I’ll leave you with, since Cohen’s words will always fare better than my own:

“Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.”

Best tracks:  The Future, Be For Real, Closing Time, Anthem, Democracy