CD Odyssey Disc 1117: Sheryl Crow

Today I completed my latest tattoo - three sessions and 11 hours later. I’m pretty knackered (I just took a two hour nap), but I love how it turned out. As always, props to Leroy Valentine at Union Tattoo. You are the best, my friend.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to finally share some photos of it. For now, I’ll share my latest thoughts on music instead.

Disc 1117 is… Tuesday Night Music Club

Artist: Sheryl Crow

Year of Release: 1993

What’s up with the Cover? Behold the toothy beauty of Sheryl Crow, partially obscured by a very unfortunate decision to throw a bunch of photo squares all over the place.

How I Came To Know It: Back in 1993 music video channels still played music videos, and a number of songs from this album were in heavy rotation. I liked what I heard so I bought the album.

How It Stacks Up:  Despite always appreciating her music over the years, I only have this one Sheryl Crow album. I used to own “C’Mon, C’Mon” (reviewed back at Dis 911) but I gave it away, which tells you all you need to know.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

My first take on Sheryl Crow wasn’t a favourable one. The first video I saw was “All I Wanna Do” felt like too many styles crammed into one song, with lyrics that were a bit too clever. The nineties fashions didn’t help either. However, as the album grew in popularity and more and more singles got released I began to appreciate and better understand what she was doing.

This was not some new pop star wanting to have some vacuous fun, this was a talented vocalist and songwriter with a unique sound that draws on multiple musical traditions. Once my ear adjusted to that reality, I even came to like “All I Wanna Do”. I never came to like nineties fashion.

“Tuesday Night Music Club” starts slow, with the meandering half-sung, half-spoken “Run, Baby, Run”. Despite understanding what Crow is going for, the song still feels like it doesn’t know what it wants to be – blues, pop or folk. However, Crow has a powerhouse voice and her delivery helps find a path through the centre of the song for your ear to follow.

Then things take off, with “Leaving Las Vegas,” a song featuring a brilliant backdrop of bass line, hand claps and just the right amount of jangle on top of the mix. If you don’t want to tap your foot to this song then I feel sorry for how you hear the world.

Crow follows that toe tapper with the album’s best song, the quietly powerful “Strong Enough.” One of the “Tuesday Night Music Club’s” strengths is the paradox between Crow strong, playful and filled with groove, and other songs where she is vulnerable and introspective. “Strong Enough” is the best of the latter, and the song’s understated guitar strum makes the whole experience feel intimate and intensely private.

When the album gets funky and bothered it loses me a little. Those songs are thoughtful explorations of syncopation and style, but while Bill Bottrell’s production is sharp throughout, songs like “Solidify” feel a bit over-arranged.

However, those explorations also set the goalposts for what the record is all about, and give you an appreciation for the songs like “All I Wanna Do” working to bring it all together. Yeah it is a little all over the place, but now I could feel the groove better and while Crow’s lyrics feel a bit crowded into the bars in places, I now understood it was deliberate, not rushed. Even the lyrics started to win me over. I find that image of a bunch of people in suits washing their cars at lunch hour really appealing for reasons I can’t explain and who hasn’t reveled in the joy of “a good beer buzz early in the morning”?

The worst thing about “All I Wanna Do” (and for the record, more generally) is just how insanely popular it was, in an era where saturation of a relatively small number of albums on the airwaves was at an all-time high. In 1993 there was no Youtube and no streaming services, so if I wanted to hear music I played one of the maybe 40 CDs I owned or watched MuchMusic. In both places, “Tuesday Night Music Club” was omnipresent.

As a result, I don’t put this record on that often these days, but it has been great rediscovering it this week. This is a record that creeps up on you from multiple directions and proves that pop music can be thoughtful, and innovative and still joyful to listen to.

Best tracks: Leaving Las Vegas, Strong Enough, Can’t Cry Anymore, All I Wanna Do, I Shall Believe

CD Odyssey Disc 911: Sheryl Crow

A long week is finally over and I’m looking forward to soaking up the sun…just like this next artist recommends on the album’s single. That’s known as a segue, folks.

Disc 911 is….C’mon, C’mon

Artist: Sheryl Crow

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? Sheryl Crow plays guitar, looking sexy as hell. Sheryl Crow could do needlepoint and look sexy as hell.

How I Came To Know It: I saw the video for “Soak Up the Sun” and liked the sound of it, so I took a chance on the record.

How It Stacks Up:  Sheryl Crow has eight studio albums but I only have two of them. Of those two, “C’mon, C’mon” is by far the weakest.

Ratings: 2 stars

Sheryl Crow’s 1993 debut, “Tuesday Night Music Club” featured a cool indie-rock vibe that was fresh and interesting, and Crow showed off a set of pipes that were deceptively powerful. Unfortunately, neither of these great qualities are in much supply on “C’mon, C’mon”.

The album starts out pretty strong with “Steve McQueen” which has a rockin’ chorus that evokes a free spirited vibe that its titular character would be proud of. The song isn’t about Steve McQueen so much as he’s a metaphor for the type of movies he used to make. It mostly works, but it is missing some of the growl the topic needs. The worst example is when Crow sings “I ain’t takin’ shit from no one” the line is stripped of any power with the inexplicable decision to put some kind of echo/squawk-box effect on the line. It is supposed to be edgy, but it just feels affected.

The second track is the mildly successful radio single, “Soak Up the Sun” which has a relaxed hippie vibe that suits Crow’s voice well. The hook is pretty fantastic and Crow seems more at home singing about hanging out in an RV than she does pretending to drive a Dodge Charger. This is by far the best song on the album, and despite a lot of unnecessary bells and whistles in the production it works pretty well. Even so, there is lazy songwriting halfway through with risible lines like:

“Every time I turn around

I’m looking up, you’re looking down.”

The song has a fun summer vibe, but by the time this line appears I’m not sure there is much of a narrative to be found as everything is subsumed to the pop hook.

That pop hook focus is most of what is wrong with the rest of the record, which after the first two tracks is largely forgettable. Crow can still sing beautifully but a lot of the power and emotion in her voice is buried in overly polished production decisions. Track Three’s chorus is:

You’re an original baby

Turn around and you’re looking at a hundred more.”

This line seems like a critique of most of the album, which is focused on radio friendly beats and saccharine lyrics which are not bad per se, but very obvious. They didn’t inspire me to keep listening either.

There is definitely an audience for this type of record, and if you like inoffensive pop this is as good as anything else that did a lot better the same year. It isn’t for me, though.

The album is only 13 songs but it is 56 minutes long and it really drags. From track 3 through 12 nothing caught my attention except on those occasions when I thought the fadeout was taking too long.

Fortunately, the final track, “Weather Channel” ends the album on a high note. This song is stripped down to just guitar and Crow’s voice and does fine work capturing what it is like to battle depression. Crow’s voice is evocative, and the folksy guitar playing balances off of it perfectly.

“Weather Channel” is easily the best song on the record, but it comes too late to save the record as a whole. Much as I admire Sheryl Crow’s body of work, I can’t bring myself to keep this particular record in my collection just for two passable pop songs and a good folk track.

Best tracks: Steve McQueen, Soak Up the Sun, Weather Channel

CD Odyssey Disc 773: Various Artists

I’ve discovered two new artists this week – Lera Lynn and Band of Heathens.

Lera Lynn is the woman who is singing mournful tunes in that dingy bar featured in True Detective’s second season. Band of Heathens is a bunch of indie/southern rock/blues/folk guys that write their own stuff and sing it well. Youtube them both and see if – like me – you plan to add them to your collection soon.

But now an artist that has been in everyone’s collect – one way or another – for decades.

Disc 773 is….The Lost Notebooks of Hank Williams

Artist: Various artists

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? An old wooden wall with Hank’s image on it, although you can barely see it through all the text. Around the edge you can see all the contributing artists, which is a nice touch.

How I Came To Know It: I saw this advertised in a music magazine I got as a Christmas gift from Sheila. She obviously saw it as well because when my birthday rolled around she bought me the album.

How It Stacks Up: This is a compilation album, so it doesn’t have anything to stack up against. The question is moot!

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

As my wife Sheila perceptively pointed out, “The Lost Notebooks” is “Mermaid Avenue” for Hank Williams, a living breathing treasure that is both the glory of the original artist and also the inspiration he generated in each contributor to the record.

The music comes from a satchel Williams would carry around full of all his old songs that was still with him when he died. Sixty years later, it is like uncovering a vault of forgotten treasure.

Like “Mermaid Avenue” and its recovered Woodie Guthrie songs, “The Lost Notebook” is a selection of Hank Williams songs he had written at the time of his death, but had not recorded nor set to music. Unlike “Mermaid Avenue” the honour doesn’t go to one or two artists to finish the work. Instead twelve different artists take a turn.

This might make the songs disjointed but instead they feel tightly connected, and not just through the lyrics which are classic Hank topics of heartbreak and loneliness. All the artists that contribute a finished song have captured the essence of Hank.

This gave me an even deeper appreciation for just how influential Hank has been on modern music. Every artist sounds like themselves, but in so doing they also show how their music is founded in the musical discoveries Hank made back in the forties and fifties.

The album opens with Alan Jackson singing “You’ve Been Lonesome Too” and both in arrangement and style, this song is a carbon copy of Hank Williams. Jackson sings so like Hank it feels like he’s been reborn. Usually I would complain that the ‘remake’ doesn’t do enough with the original song, but this song is original to me. Besides, it is so perfectly done I don’t mind the copycat job.

Other artists take greater liberties, but they never stray far from the lilting tone and tear-stained guitar that makes a Hank Williams song authentic. For some artists, like Jackson, Rodney Crowell or Patty Loveless, the influence was obvious from their own work. For others, like Jack White and Sheryl Crow, hearing them breathe life into Hank’s ghost made me appreciate just how much he was already living inside them.

The old guys featured on the record were some of my least favourites. Bob Dylan and Levon Helm sound old and tired, and Merle Haggard’s song sounds a bit too…Haggard. Surprisingly, Bob’s son Jakob’s offering is better than both of them, and it isn’t even one of my favourites. By the way don’t expect to ever hear that Jakob Dylan outdid his dad on a project again. This is definitely the only time that will ever happen.

Jack White wins for getting the song with the best lyrics with “You Know That I Know.” This is a song about a man who knows the dirty and low-down secrets of a girl and is warning her not to put on airs now that they’ve moved to town:

“Now you know that I know that you ain't no good

And you wouldn't tell the truth even if you could

Lying is a habit you practice where ever you go

Well you may fool the rest of this world

But you know that I know”

And my favourite part of down-home snark comes later with:

“To some folks you may be Mrs. So-and-So

But don't turn your nose up at me,

You know that I know”

Another favourite is Norah Jones singing “How Many Times Have You Broken My Heart?” which is an amazing combination of a Hank Williams’ inspired melody and the smooth tone of Jones’ voice. It is touched around the edges with just the right amount of Mexican guitar to balance Jones’ smokey tones.

Like Alan Jackson, Vince Gill and Rodney Crowell perfectly capture another side of Hank as his storytelling ‘Luke the Drifter’ character. I don’t really like Hank as Luke the Drifter so this particular song didn’t work for me as well as Jackson’s.

This album is worth your time if you are a Hank completionist or even if you just want another reminder of how deep and wide his influence has been on music. Not every song is great, but most are at least worth your time and all of them will have you hearing Hank’s ghost in every song for days after.

Best tracks: You’ve Been Lonesome Too – Alan Jackson, How Many Times Have You Broken My Heart – Norah Jones, “You Know That I Know” – Jack White, I’m So Happy I Found You – Lucinda Williams, “You’re Through Fooling Me” – Patty Loveless,

CD Odyssey Disc 646: Various Artists

I’ve bought a lot of music lately (more than usual) and along the way discovered a few new (to me) bands I highly recommend. This week’s love affair is with Imelda May, an Irish rockabilly artist who is as talented as she is beautiful. I’ve been listening to her 2010 “Mayhem” album every day this week – often twice a day.

That’s this week’s recommendation, although not this week’s review. The review, as ever, was determined randomly because damn it that’s just more fun.

Disc 646 is….Return of the Grievous Angel: A Tribute to Gram Parsons

Artist: Various

Year of Release: 1999

What’s up with the Cover? It’s Gram Parson’s suit or at least an artistic rendition of it. Gram used to wear a white rockabilly suit that looked like this.

Here is Gram in happier times wearing the jacket the cover is based on. Way to rock the ladies on your lapels, Gram. Where the hell is that detail on the cover?

How I Came To Know It: I was looking for some Gram Parsons one day and the record store dudes cleverly had this stored in his section. When I saw that not only was Parsons stalwart Emmylou Harris featured, but also Steve Earle, Lucinda Williams and a whole bunch of my other favourite artists, I bought it without hesitation.

How It Stacks Up:  While it isn’t exactly a best of, as a collection of covers it can’t really stack up against Gram Parsons doing his own stuff.

Rating:  This is also a bit of a gray area. It isn’t a ‘best of’ per se, so I’ve decided to go ahead and give it a grade. That grade is…3 stars, but almost 4

Every now and then a rare artist comes along who just has a knack for writing great songs. Gram Parsons was one of those, and his untimely death in 1973 denied us of his talent all too early. Fortunately he wrote a bunch of tracks before he was gone, and on “Return of the Grievous Angel” a bunch of fairly well known artists pay tribute to him.

If you are going to do a tribute record of a songwriter of Gram Parson’s stature you better get artists with sufficient presence and ability to do his memory proud. “Return” has a pretty impressive lineup that includes the Cowboy Junkies, Beck, Steve Earle, Sheryl Crow, Elvis Costello, Lucinda Williams, Wilco and of course Parson collaborator and confidante Emmylou Harris.

Their work – and that of the other artists on the album – is strong, and while I don’t really care for the Cowboy Junkies treatment of “Ooh Las Vegas” it was at least the most innovative. I similarly didn’t like Elvis Costello trying to add his jazzy flavour to “Sleepless Nights.” Costello sings it as earnestly as he can and you can tell the love is there, but he’s just not suited for this kind of music, despite how much he wants to be.

For the most part, the artists do Parsons ‘straight up’ with very similar arrangements and treatments as he originally used. They are all very good (it is hard to screw up a Gram Parsons song) but in some places I found myself preferring the original. In the case of Beck and Emmylou’s duet on “Sin City” not only prefer the original Flying Burrito Brothers version, but the Emmylou solo version from 1975’s “Elite Hotel” as well.

There are more than a few standouts. Emmylou gets Gram Parsons like few do, and her gentle treatment of “She” alongside Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders is a great way to start the record. On “Juanita” her background vocals elevate Sheryl Crow beautifully as well and make a song I often gloss over in Parson’s collection standout even more.

Evan Dando and Julianna Hatfield do a great version of “$1,000 Wedding” which has some pretty guitar work, and although I’ve not always been a Whiskeytown fan, their version of “A Song For You” has the perfect mix of desperation and energy the song calls for.

I would have preferred Steve Earle sing “High Fashion Queen” solo, as Chris Hillman’s voice is just too forgettable taking alternating verses. Fortunately David Crosby wisely takes a back seat on his duet of “Return of the Grievous Angel” with Lucinda Williams. Williams is just as much a tortured genius as Parsons and her angst and sandpapery voice add a whole new level to the song.

I would have liked the album to end with Gillian Welch’s treatment of “Hickory Wind” which has a threadbare arrangement that lets her pure bluegrass vocals cut through like the warm summer wind she sings about. I couldn’t imagine a better end.

That is, until we hear the Rolling Creekdippers sing “In My Hour of Darkness.” This song closes a Gram Parson’s collection as fittingly as Tennyson compilations always end with “Crossing the Bar.” In “Crossing the Bar” the poet imagines a heavenly journey ahead, whereas Parsons’ lyrics see only the darkness and unknown. It is the right way to end a tribute album for someone who left us too soon.

“In My Hour of Darkness” is a song about loss on a record that not only makes you contemplate the great artistic loss of Gram parsons, but also those who are gone from our own lives. It is gracefully delivered and deeply affecting but as I sat listening to the Rolling Creekdippers sing it, there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but want to hear Gram’s voice instead. For that reason, I’ll hold this review to three stars by the narrowest of margins.

Best tracks:   She, $1000 Wedding, Juanita, Return of the Grievous Angel, A Song For You, Hickory Wind, In My Hour of Darkness