CD Odyssey Disc 1823: Various Artists do Doo Wop

It’s been a lovely weekend full of musical encounters, planned and unplanned. Yesterday, I had an impromptu conversation about Austrian band Son of the Velvet Rat in the post office lineup, and later that evening spent time with friends sharing music.

Along the way I ran a few chores, and had the happy soundtrack of Doo Wop tunes to keep me company in the car. Here’s more about that.

Disc 1823 is…Doo Wop Vocal Group Greats

Artist: Various Artists

Year of Release: 2005 but featuring music from 1951 to 1963

What’s up with the Cover? It’s Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers dressed up and ready to doo wop you in your earholes. Don’t worry – it feels good.

How I Came To Know It: There’s a section on my local record store (Ditch Records) where they have a whole pile of box sets from the golden age of the CD, when this was a thing people bought. Even though I’ve been buying CDs faithfully since the late eighties, I never got caught up in the box set hype, preferring to buy studio albums most of the time. Also box sets are awkwardly shaped and hard to file.

However, one day I was in the cramped corner of the store housing the box sets (the tyranny of vinyl requiring the majority of the space these days) when my eyes alighted on this treasure. Doo Wop doesn’t have a bunch of studio records (back in the day pop music was mostly singles) so this was a great way to get a whole bunch of songs from a genre I love but have very little of.

How It Stacks Up: This isn’t an album, it’s a compilation, and so can’t stack up.

Ratings: compilations also don’t get ratings, since they’re not true albums. Rules!

Three discs and 60 tunes is a lot of DooWop, but at no point over the past five days did I ever feel that volume as a burden. If there is a style of music that lifts your spirits more than Doo Wop, I don’t know what it is. This stuff makes you feel good. It is the summer sun and holidays of musical genres.

If you aren’t familiar with Doo Wop it was a style of American music in the fifties and early sixties that featured multi-part harmonies, nonsense words often sung as musical accompaniment in place of instruments, and chord progressions that traipse along in a way that is both predictable and uplifting (lots of triumphant fifths).

This is early pop music at its best, and like a lot of good pop music you can guess what’s going to come next in a tune and then feel delicious joy in being right. On repeat listens, you can sing along and frankly, it is hard not to. When Barry Mann sings “who put the bomp in the bomp, be bomp be bebomp” if you don’t immediate respond with “who put the dip in the dip de dip de dip” then there is something wrong with you.

In this collection we have a wide range of what Doo Wop represents, although don’t expect a wide range of topics. It is mostly romantic warbles about how much you love your gal (or your fella), with a few featuring unrequited love. Even those are pretty gentle stuff. No murder ballads or self-harm here, beyond maybe some impassioned sobbing into one’s pillow.

Some of these songs are deep down in my marrow from early childhood experiences, likely appearing on AM radio in my family car growing up (a sky blue 1961 Rambler). Tunes like Danny & the Juniors’ “At the Hop”, the Platters’ “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes”, the Shirelles “Will You Love Me Tomorrow” and the Tokens’ “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” were instantly recognizable.

For all that familiarity, it was a joy to discover a host of other songs for the first time. I felt like I was getting a lucky peak into a simpler time – an idealized version of the fifties and sixties. The real version of those decades was a lot more complex, but listening to Doo Wop puts you in a dreamlike alternate universe where all things are rosier. A Pleasantville where the sun always shines, and milk never sours.

And while this music is simple fun, it also has had a lasting impact on music for generations to follow. Many of your favourite heavy bands of the seventies and eighties grew up on Doo Wop, and many bands twenty years later raided these records out of their parents’ or grandparents' record collection. I have a lovely version of Blue Oyster Cult guitarist Buck Dharma covering “Come Softly To Me”. Blind Guardian covers “Barbara Ann” in my last review. Even when bands aren’t always wearing it on their sleeves, you can be sure its working its happy magic under the surface.

Be warned that these songs have a heavy Pollyanna vibe. Doo Wop doesn’t veer into schmaltz so much as it is steeped in it. Art shouldn’t always be this easy and free, but in a complex modern world, it was nice to spend a few days in a stylized time where love is grand, and everyone has a swing in their step, and a song in their heart. Dip da dip da dip, indeed!

Best tracks: Come Back My Love, Out of Sight Out of Mind, Twilight Time, I Met Him on Sunday, Sixty-Minute Man, For Sentimental Reasons, I’m Not a Juvenile Delinquent, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, Come Softly To Me, Little Darlin’, Don’t You Just Know It, Little Bitty Pretty One, Once Upon a Time

CD Odyssey Disc 1611: Johnny Horton

Happy New Year! 2022 was quite an eventful year and I think I could use fewer events in 2023. A nice quiet year. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what will happen.

Disc 1611 is…The Best of Johnny Horton

Artist: Johnny Horton

Year of Release: 2017 but featuring songs from 1955 to 1960

What’s up with the Cover?  Mr. Horton himself, looking very dapper in his ‘outfit for cowboys who don’t actually have to work on the range’ attire. This lack of authenticity is also what sets some of the tunes back – but more on that later.

How I Came To Know It: I grew up with Johnny Horton and I’ve loved him all my life.

I already had a solid Greatest Hits package for Horton, but this release has a ton of songs I’d never heard before, so I decided to give it a shot. You can’t have too much Johnny Horton in your collection. Or can you…?

How It Stacks Up: as a compilation album, this doesn’t “stack up” under CD Odyssey rules.

Ratings: No ratings for best of albums. This is because they’re not records in the strictest sense, but more of a selection of music.

Do you like Johnny Horton? Maybe you own Johnny Horton’s Greatest Hits (reviewed back at Disc 725, FYI). Well, before you take the leap from the 13 songs on that record to the 50 on this one, you better like Johnny Horton a lot.

I do like Johnny Horton a lot, but this compilation put that opinion to the test in places. As with more aggressively curated collections, Horton’s music falls into one of three broad categories: working man tunes, romantic rambles and historic set-pieces. Here you just get more of it.

Country Life

These are tunes where Horton celebrates the slow meandering country life. These are the “countriest” of his tunes and are often punctuated with fiddle and steel guitar solos. I will give the 1950s credit on those – back then Soulless Record Execs landed some Grade A studio talent. Despite the early recording techniques on this stuff, it is hard to not love the musicianship.

The tunes themselves are OK, but that jumpy pop-country delivery of Horton’s can take a heartfelt expression of pastoral love on a song like “In My Home in Shelby County” and make them feel kind of…fake.

Worse is “Go and Wash Your Dirty Feet” which is a song about how young kids in the country used to run about barefoot. It is supposed to be whimsical and fun, but I just couldn’t get the thought of those dirty feet tromping through the house at the end of the day. Yech. Better is “Sleepy-Eyed John” which I like to imagine features the same rapscallion, now fully grown and finding himself not only without shoes, but without britches as well.

Romantic Rambles

These are mixed bag, with some of Horton’s best songs ever in this genre, but also some of his creepiest.

On the “best” side is “Whispering Pines” a beautiful warbler of a tune, featuring a lovelorn fellow serenading the trees in the hopes they’ll send his baby back to him. On the strength of lyrics alone, this tune is unadulterated schmaltz, but with Horton’s high tenor evoking the gods of love, you will be well and truly smitten. The guitar bits in the song are also sublime.

On the creepy side, we have “All Grown Up”. Opening with a chorus of very childlike singers chanting, “hey daddy, I’m all grown up.” It gets worse from there with…

“Standing at your door just like I done before
You've changed so strange, you're all grown up
You wear those heels and hose dressed up in your mama's clothes
You're hip, I'm flipped, you’re all grown up”

Yeesh.

Historic Set-Pieces

This is what Johnny Horton is most famous for, with enduring ballads “The Battle of New Orleans” and “Sink the Bismark” still kicking around most record collections of any significant vintage. I grew up loving this stuff as a kid, and it has sunk pretty deep into my consciousness over those formative years. These tunes still hold up well, although songs like “Sink the Bismark” are over too soon. That 2:30 song length of the 1950s gets in the way of what could’ve been even more memorable verses.

On this massive collection, Johnny reminded me of Swedish metal band, “Sabaton” in his propensity to tell exactly the details of each battle or historic event, never mind the metaphor. We learn young Abe Lincoln was good at wrestling and that John Paul Jones killed one of his crew, but don’t expect much exposition beyond that, because the “Cole’s Notes” approach to song length leaves precious little time to tell a story.

Overall, I enjoyed getting a whole host of new (to me) Johnny Horton tunes, even though some of them land flat. Horton is great when he’s crooning away, or digging into some historic Civil War battle, but despite great musicianship, there are too many moments where the emotional authenticity is missing, often because the song is in too much of a damned hurry to wrap up.

In those moments Horton leaves behind his folksy country and western charm and becomes a studio vocalist, in tune and with a lovely tone, but uninspired. His voice is a joy to hear, but I liked it best when I felt a bit of gravitas and pain in the delivery.

Best tracks: North to Alaska, When It’s Springtime in Alaska (It’s Forty Below), Lost Highway, Joe’s Been A-Getting’ There, Young Abe Lincoln, The Battle of New Orleans, Sink the Bismark, Comanche (the Brave Horse), Whispering Pines

CD Odyssey Disc 1606: Muddy Waters

My weekend started off in lovely fashion, catching up with some of my oldest friends (most from university days) enjoying a steak dinner a good conversation and a few drinks raised in fellowship.

Disc 1606 is…His Best: 1947-1955

Artist: Muddy Waters

Year of Release: 1997, but with music from 1947-1955

What’s up with the Cover?  Giant Head Cover returns! Here we have Muddy Waters’ giant head, looking sinister.

That’s a joke for the heraldry nerds.

How I Came To Know It: I had heard of Muddy Waters for years but it wasn’t until my friend Casey put some on for me one evening that I properly turned my attention to his work (Muddy, not Casey). One of the best gifts is the gift of musical discovery so thanks, Casey!

How It Stacks Up: This record is a compilation of music spanning eight years and so, by CD Odyssey rules, can’t stack up.

Ratings: Compilation records don’t get rated, but if they could be this one would be perfect.

There are times on this blog where I struggle with defining an album. Is it indie folk, with a hint of pop? Hard rock edging up on heavy metal? With Muddy Waters there is no confusion. This man is the blues and only the blues. Blues so pure and deep they well up from the soul like a geyser of oil, rich and grimy.

I don’t always get the blues, and I sometimes find it a bit repetitive. Of course, that is part of its charm; kicking your soul down into a groove which is simultaneously celebratory and full of pain. The blues is singing in a storm, dancing at a funeral, and shouting at the moon while lost on a moor.

While my first love of the blues is Howlin’ Wolf, there is no denying Muddy Waters is objectively the pinnacle. That warbling, deep, half-slurred delivery (occasionally punctuated with a falsetto shriek) is about as good a vocal performance as you will ever hear in this world or the next. If you are wondering what song I am referring to here, the answer is “all of them”.

Frequent readers will know I can’t abide a record with more than 14 tracks on it, but this collection of tunes from Waters’ heyday has 20 and just left me wanting more. I wouldn’t cut a single tune off the album. I don’t know enough about his catalogue to judge if these are “His Best” as advertised, but it is hard to imagine there are 20 better ones.

The guitar work on the record is great, and I was equally happy with Muddy (earlier tracks) and Jimmy Rogers (later tracks). They are different, with Muddy playing a bit more spare and Rogers, ironically a bit more “muddy.” Both are great accompaniments to Waters’ vocals.

The thing that surprised me more was how much I enjoyed the other players. Ernest “Big” Crawford on the bass is amazing, and no doubt an inspiration to all kinds of music that followed, first soul and funk and later rap and hip hop. This music centered deep in the heart, with enough oomph to pump its power across generations. I can still hear it echoing today.

The songs sound timeless, as the blues often do, but most are original compositions of Waters, with a few Willie Dixon classics thrown in for good measure, mostly nearer the end of the period. A blues composition is similar to folk song, in that there is an art to staying firmly within the traditions of the music, while at the same time creating something new. When done right, you can’t tell what era it is from, only that it is awesome.

I love Robert Johnson as much as the next guy, but let’s be honest; that tinny thirties production is irksome. Wouldn’t you love to hear blues this good that didn’t sound like they were recorded in a tin can? Enter Muddy Waters, equal to the talent of his predecessor, but with that high-end Chess production that brings you his deep, rounded tone in all its glory. The guitar and bass shake the floorboards, while Waters vocals roil the air with power that is half playful, half menace.

It all adds up to some of the greatest music ever recorded, and it was my privilege to rediscover it in my collection through what was a very lucky random selection indeed. The only downside is that the Odyssey must roll and tumble its way forward leaving this particularly blessed isle behind for now.

Best tracks: all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1287: Elvis Presley

My apologies for my lengthy absence, dear readers. I’ve had quite a couple of weeks filled with illness, renovations and other demands on my time that left very little time for music reviews.

It also left me a lot of time to listen to this next album (actually, double album) which has been a lot of fun.

Disc 1287 is… The Top Ten Hits

Artist: Elvis Presley

Year of Release: 1988, but featuring music from 1956-1972

What’s up with the Cover? Giant Head Elvis, giving that sexy sneer of a smile that made him irresistible in the day.

How I Came to Know It: I’ve known Elvis since I was a baby. My Mom is a huge Elvis fan. She has all his records, she loves all his movies, and her house is festooned with Elvis memorabilia, much of which I bought her knowing it was a can’t-fail birthday or Christmas gift. My mother cries when she hears “Love Me Tender” every time she hears it. My Mom loves Elvis Presley.

As a result, I grew up hearing Elvis in the house all the time. I was interested in music from an early age. I used to marvel at the blue vinyl the “Moody Blue” record was issued on and I would stare at the “How Great Thou Art” album cover and wonder what ‘art’ Elvis liked so much – I figured it out later.

I have a hundred childhood Elvis stories, but we’re getting dangerously post-modern here, so let’s return to the music.

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

Ratings: Compilation albums aren’t really albums, so I review them, but I don’t rate them.

38 Top ten hits across three decades. It boggles the mind, and yet even that statistic doesn’t do justice to the lasting impact of Elvis Presley – and I don’t just mean on my mom, either. Generations of musicians in country, rock and pop have their roots in his music. And while Elvis has his roots even deeper in black spirituals and blues, that discounts neither his own impact on music, nor his brilliance.

This compilation celebrates that brilliance in true 1988 CD issue style – a focus on the music with no frills or lengthy liner notes. In 1988 compact disc technology was the frill. This sort of compilation of old classics aimed at older folks with the money needed to buy a CD player were all the rage in the late eighties.

Fortunately, Elvis needs no frills. He is a musical phenomenon. His musicality and sense of timing is flawless, and he squeezes every ounce of emotion out of every word he sings. It helps that Elvis is gifted with one of the great voices in musical history. He growls on the rock songs, he hits low crooning notes on the love songs, and he soars like an opera singer on the emotional anthems. He even rocks a little sexy spoken word on “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”

At the end of “It’s Now or Never” Elvis does a gentle soft tagline of “my love won’t wait” that you think is perfect, but then follows it up with a second soaring repeat of the same lyric. No song should get away with two endings, but when you’ve got the vocal prowess of Elvis Presley it just makes the song more beautiful.

It is hard to pick all my favourites when every song I hear has the familiarity of a grade-school bestie. I can say that some of the kitschy songs I liked as a kid (“Hound Dog”, “Teddy Bear”, “All Shook Up”) don’t stand up as well now that I’m an adult.

By contrast, some of those crooning love ballads that I used to find icky (“Love Me”, “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”, “Can’t Help Falling in Love”) are now some of my favourites. No one tells you he loves you like Elvis.

Unfortunately, no one can get his stalker on quite as bad as Elvis either. Songs that were originally intended to be expressions of love and desire have aged very poorly. On “Little Sister” the narrator is essentially pleading with a younger sister to let him take sexual liberties with her that her bigger, older sister refused. “Don’t” implores of the singer’s girlfriend “don’t say don’t”. The worst of the bunch is “Stuck on You” with this little gem of aggressive douchebaggery:

“Hide out in the kitchen, hide out in the hall

Ain't going to do you no good at all

Because once I catch you and the kissing starts

A team of wild horses couldn't tear us apart”

Here’s another creepy fact: when I Googled the lyrics (because I was too lazy to type them out) Google gave me a set that didn’t include any of this stuff (credited to writers A. Schroeder and S. Leslie McFarland and everything). Hey, Google – Elvis sang it and pretending otherwise doesn’t change that.

“Stuck on You” is a creepy song, but that swinging bass line is as good as it gets. When you’re Elvis Presley you can pretty much afford the absolute best studio musicians in the world, and that is also evident throughout the collection. The playing on these records is exquisite, as is the incredible barbershop quartet backing vocals that appear on some songs. Elvis was no slouch on the guitar himself, and while I don’t know if he played on these songs, the guitar throughout is killer – as is the bass, the piano and every other damned note you’ll hear. The 1988 CD transfer does none of this justice, but the greatness shines through regardless.

I’ve known these songs since I was a boy, and I just spend an entire week marinating in them all over again. I never got tired of any of it. The late fifties Elvis tracks like “Jailhouse Rock” through to his final big hit (1972’s “Burning Love”) all still shone like diamonds, undimmed by the years. I haven’t had a particularly joyous week, but I was very lucky to have Elvis Presley as my soundtrack to all those chores.

Best tracks: I Want You I Need You I Love You, Don’t Be Cruel, Love Me, Jailhouse Rock, I Need Your Love Tonight, It’s Now or Never, Are You Lonesome Tonight?, Little Sister, (Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame, Can’t Help Falling In Love, Return to Sender, (You’re the) Devil in Disguise, Bossa Nova Baby, In the Ghetto, Suspicious Minds, Don’t Cry Daddy, Burning Love (that’s 17 of the 38 songs but damn it, they are all worth your time).

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 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 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 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 846: The Dave Brubeck Quartet

I delayed reviewing this album for an extra day just so I could listen to it a little more.

Disc 846 is….Time Out

Artist: The Dave Brubeck Quartet

Year of Release: 1959

What’s up with the Cover? I’m not sure. Some modern art from back in the fifties. This isn’t usually my thing, but I really like it here, and it suits the record well.

How I Came To Know It: Sheila introduced me to Dave Brubeck. I think her dad introduced her (he was a jazz guy) and we even have his copy of this album on vinyl, which is pretty cool.

How It Stacks Up:  This is the only Dave Brubeck album we have so it can’t really stack up.

Ratings: 5 stars

“Time Out” is the greatest jazz record of all time and I should know, because I have like eight jazz albums. I’m pretty much an expert.

Actually, I know next to nothing about jazz. I rarely understand it and I enjoy it even less often, which is what makes “Time Out” such a revelation. Four musicians – Dave Brubeck (piano), Paul Desmond (saxophone), Eugene Wright (bass) and Joe Morello (drums) all at the height of their craft; each one contributing their genius to make something greater than the sum of its parts.

“Time Out” is energized but never frantic. This is an album for a stroll through your favourite city. You can walk quickly and feel the electricity of it all, or you can amble down the backstreets and enjoy how chill it is. You can spend your time following the rhythm section around, or you can float on the melodies supplied by the piano and saxophone. You can’t go wrong, because there aren’t any missteps anywhere in the mix.

The album is appropriately titled, with its varied time signatures, each more complicated than the last. I’d point out what they are but I don’t understand music well enough to decipher them. There are lots of articles on line that will do it for you, though, since this record has rightly captured the attention of generations of music lovers. What I do know is when you listen to it the general absence of obvious 3/4 or 4/4 time signatures gives the music a restless quality. You’re not sure where it is going to land at any given moment and this keeps your ear active to every turn of the song.

Similarly the melody plays against itself, echoing its way back and forth through various chord progressions. Again, I can’t explain how it all works because I don’t know music theory well enough to do it justice. I just know there is a symmetry and balance throughout. It is the musical equivalent of a tap dancer playing at being slightly out of balance to create energy and drama, yet knowing exactly where his heel or toe is going to land next. Put another way this album takes complex math equations and makes them beautiful.

In lesser hands playing fast and loose with the time signature and bouncing around inside the melody like this is a recipe for disaster. Too often jazz musicians are trying to show the audience how clever they are and fail to make a song listenable. Clever doesn’t always equal good.

Dave Brubeck and his gang of masters do not let their egos wreck their songs. Every track is a joy; a musical journey where each step is in a new direction. Despite the shifts in focus the notes are so artfully placed you are just happy to be along to see where the musical walk will take you.

At the end of this record’s all too short 38 minutes I always feel both well rested and alert. It is like I’ve been meditating the whole time and come out of the experience recharged and relaxed.

“Time Out” was recorded over 45 years ago, but it remains as fresh and interesting as ever. It is one of those albums that I know I’ll play hundreds of times between now and the day I shuffle off this mortal coil and never tire of hearing it. It is a masterpiece.

Best tracks:  All tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 782: Johnny Kidd and the Pirates

I’ve had an exhausting week and I’m bone tired and ready for an early night. Before I go to bed I am determined to get this next review written so I can keep the CD Odyssey moving.

Disc 782 is….The Best of Johnny Kidd and The Pirates

Artist: Johnny Kidd and the Pirates

Year of Release: 2008, but featuring music from 1959-1966

What’s up with the Cover? It’s Johnny himself, wearing his signature eye patch. No, Johnny does not have a disfiguring eye injury – he just likes to rock the patch. Note he is also sitting on a bunch of old pirate stuff to show what a buccaneer he is. This cover is cheesy as hell, and I love it, all the way down to Johnny’s not-so-pirate cowboy boots.

How I Came To Know It: When I was recently listening to Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades” album to review it (back at Disc 752) I realized that one of the bonus tracks was a Johnny Kidd cover. I’d never heard of Johnny Kidd but I decided to check out what the original sounded like. I liked what I heard and I liked the other Youtube offerings of Johnny Kidd as well so I went out and bought this album.

How It Stacks Up: This is a “best of” so it doesn’t stack up.

Ratings: No ratings for ‘best of’ albums, monkey!

Johnny Kidd and the Pirates are one of my happier discoveries this year, fifty years after they were hitting the charts in the U.K.

This album is a pretty exhaustive ‘best of’ and they took a fair bit of latitude on just what was a hit and what wasn’t. There are 56 tracks spread over two albums, and so you get a heavy dose of what the band is about throughout the entire run of their career from 1959 to 1966.

With a couple small exceptions, the songs are presented in chronological order, which is how I like to hear an anthology of music, particularly of a band I don’t know well. This let me get a good grasp of what the Pirates were like out of the gate and how their sound evolved.

And their sound really does evolve a lot in just seven years. Up to about 1961 they sound like an interesting cross between early Dick Dale and late Buddy Holly. It is a great mix, with a hint of surfer guitar around the edges of sixties crooners, and a nice hard edge on the biggest hits like “Please Don’t Touch” and “Shakin’ All Over” that obviously got the attention of hard rockers like Motorhead in their formative years.

“Shakin’ All Over” is one of those timeless classics you’ve probably heard a million times and never known who performed it. The guitar riff on the song is sublime and coming out in 1960 the song just feels like it is ten years ahead of its time.

The early stuff also has some fairly dirty stuff including the make-out session song “Longin’ Lips” and “Big Blon’ Baby” which is one step away from both kitsch and creepy but somehow straddles the line.

Sadly in 1961 most of the Pirates “jumped ship” as it were, and the sound changed a fair bit. Johnny Kidd’s voice is strong (back in the day you actually had to be able to sing to sound good on a record) but I really miss Alan Caddy’s lead guitar. Caddy is definitely from the surfer school and the big reverb sound of his guitar gives the Pirates their edge.

In its place, the tracks from 1962 and 1963 have them sounding a bite more Beatles in flavour. There is still plenty of good stuff in here, although less consistently than in the early years. The magic is still there on standouts like the frantic “Some Other Guy” and the groovy instrumental “Popeye.”

Overall though, the band started to lose me around the end of the first disc, as the songs start to slip into 1963/64. There is a bit more organ and proto-psychadelia that doesn’t suit them, as well as a growing propensity for cover songs. Hearing them sing “Oh Boy” or “Shop Around” sounds OK, but I’d rather just hear the originals by Buddy Holly or the Smoky Robinson.

Most of the songs after 1964 are just remakes, and when I heard “Shakin’ All Over (’65 edition)” I could tell the end was near creatively, with the band recycling old songs and just adding odd touches of stoner organ.

There was one cover worth honourable mention, however and that is their 1965 cut of Roy Hamilton’s “You Can Have Her.” Sure it is another remake, but the Johnny Kidd version is different enough to be fresh, and just as good as the original.

The sound of the music started to change at the end as well, with Kidd gravitating to a more Motown-infused sound with a lot more soul. I prefer the proto-punk surfer edge of his earlier stuff, though.

Johnny Kidd’s life ended abruptly in a car accident in 1966, so we’ll never know if he would have recaptured his early glory. However, the crazy antics of dressing (poorly) like pirates on stage inspired later acts like Alice Cooper, and as the Motorhead cover shows, they also served as early role models to later rock gods like Lemmy Kilmeister.

That legacy, plus the sheer brilliance of their early material makes this album well worth having, even if I will rarely put the second of the two discs into rotation.

Best tracks:   Please Don’t Touch, Longin’ Lips, Shakin’ All Over, Restless, Let’s Talk About Us, Big Blon’ Baby, Please Don’t Bring Me Down, Some Other Guy, Popeye, Ecstasy, Casting My Spell, Don’t Make the Same Mistake that I Did, You Can Have Her

CD Odyssey Discs 756 and 757: Dick Dale

Every time I think I know a lot of music something comes along to remind me I’m just wading in the shallow end of a very deep sea. Earlier this week I met a couple of nice folks from New Zealand who traded me musical recommendations from their home town. So far I’ve checked out Fat Freddie’s Drop, Dave Dobbyn and Fly My Pretties – all pretty good stuff, so thanks to Helen and Morgan!

I gave them some Canadian recommendations as well but it was a few beers in so I’m a bit fuzzy as to exactly what – Blue Rodeo, Tragically Hip and Lindi Ortega for sure, and probably a few more. My friend Andrew added “D.O.A.” the list as well.

It is fitting this next review feature surfer music, since surfing is a truly international activity whether you are in Raglan, NZ or Tofino, CAN.

Disc 756 and 757 are….Surfer’s Choice and Surf Beat

Artist: Dick Dale

Year of Release: Surfer’s Choice: 1962, Surf Beat: singles from 1958-1962

What’s up with the Cover? Bonus two-cover action for this double album set. “Surfer’s Choice” has a classic sixties approach, with the song titles listed on the front of the album, along with exhortative advertising about how great the record is (“With Dick’s Great Hits”). Also, Dick rides a wave and looks sexy doing it.

The other album is “Surf Beat” which still features a sexy Dick Dale, lovingly laying his hands on his board. He looks skyward, no doubt praying “May no gremmies ever ding you, beloved board!” to the surf gods in the sky.

How I Came To Know It: I must have picked this album up a hundred times in the record store before I finally bought it when I couldn’t find any other Dick Dale albums I didn’t already have. Ironically, it is Dale’s first full-length LP but because of that on-cover advertising (“With Dick’s Great Hits”) I thought it was a compilation album. When I finally bought it I got both Dick’s greatest hits and his first studio album, so I was right either way.

How It Stacks Up: All Dick Dale is equally awesome, but I’ll put “Surfer’s Choice” 3^rd out of my 4 studio albums. “Surf Beat” is a compilation, so it doesn’t stack up. I know – back in the late fifties lots of songs were just singles, but just because they did that kind stuff in 1958 doesn’t mean I should condone it. Make albums!

Ratings: Surfer’s Choice gets 4 stars but Surf Beat is a compilation of singles, so no rating for that one.

Disc 756: Surfer’s Choice

Despite “Surfer’s Choice” being one of the most innovative and influential records of the 1960s, it never even cracked the Billboard top 50. What the hell were you thinking, people of the sixties?

It all starts with the way Dale plays the guitar – so distinct we still call the style “surf guitar” when we hear it. Lots of reverb and incredibly fast picking up and down on the strings makes it sound like a hive of bees is serenading you. It captures both the ebullience of a cresting wave and the cool soothing diffusion of sound you might experience if you could play an electric guitar underwater and not electrocute yourself.

Dale’s voice is the classic crooner style of the era, and while he doesn’t have the same range of many of his contemporaries like Frankie Valli he still gets the job done, and he sings with gusto.

When Dale is trying to do the sixties crooner thing, such as on “Peppermint Man,” “Lovey Dovey” or “Night Owl” he doesn’t interest me as much. Fortunately on “Surfer’s Choice these songs seem included as more of an afterthought to please the mainstream listener. Not that it worked.

 The album is at its best when the surf guitar sound is flying, punctuated here and there with a saucy saxophone. Words are not necessary. Listening, you know songs like “Surf Beat,” “Surfing Drums” and “Let’s Go Trippin’” are all about freedom. The freedom of the beach, the freedom of the wave, and the unbridled freedom of a generation that was riding high on life and not yet scarred by Vietnam or stagflation.

“Surfing Drums” manages to throw in a drum solo as well as saxophone letting you know there are lots of ways this music can shout “yeehaw!” Even the slower pace of “Death of a Gremmie” can’t get you down. I guess in a crowded surf spot one less gremmie isn’t the biggest tragedy…

Even when there are words, they are sparse, as on “Take It Off” where the music occasionally breaks every couple of bars so Dick can exhort you to ‘take it off.’ This song is also all about freedom, and hearing it I can see girls in bikinis go-go dancing by firelight up and down the beach. It’s a great image.

Dale takes on the folk classic, “Sloop John B” as well, and although I expect this is controversial, I like it better than the Beach Boys version that came out four years later. Dale’s is a little bit slower, and tinged with just the right amount of regret. Even the odd rat-pack style string section he uses works here. I’m sure the Beach Boys were listening.

The most famous song on the album is “Misirlou Twist” which is just that – a twist on the single “Misirlou” released separately. “Misirlou Twist” is twice as long, but the extra content detracts from the song’s great riff. I must reluctantly side with the single on this one.

The album ends with “Let’s Go Trippin’” which may be the finest example of surf music ever made. The guitar cuts its way up and down the progressions hitting the high notes with bluesy enthusiasm. The saxophone is a clinic on how to use that instrument in pop music that was sadly never learned by the epidemic of crappy eighties music that would follow twenty years later.

“Surfer’s Choice” is just another great Dick Dale album, so consistently good that if you were to only own one, you’d be just fine with this one. Of course, if you only want to own one Dick Dale album you’re an idiot.

Disc 757: Surf Beat

“Surf Beat” isn’t actually an album, but rather a collection of Dale’s early singles from 1958 to 1962. Being earlier in Dick Dale’s career, the album only lands that sweet surfer sound in fits and starts; I expect he’s still learning just what it is all about.

Instead, there is a lot of the crooner stuff that I don’t enjoy as much. It is still good stuff, but if I want this kind of fifties/sixties pop music I prefer Buddy Holly. It just feels like it is trying too hard to please the masses.

The exception to this rule is “We’ll Never Hear the End of It” where Dale steps up his game. This is a sorrowful tune about young foolish lovers and (I suspect) teen pregnancy. Rather than bow down to the admonishment of their elders, this is a song about forging ahead, reveling in the recklessness of young love. By the end Dale makes an honest woman of his girl, and puts a ring on her hand. I love the slow rhythm of the melody, sad and uncertain, even as the lyrics give the song its stiff upper lip.

Dale’s signature guitar sound pokes its head up even on the most by-the-numbers tracks; the shadow of things to come. The songs are presented in chronological order, which I appreciate because you can actually feel the music evolve as you listen to the record.

It isn’t until the latter half of “Surf Beat”s 14 tracks that surf guitar really starts to hit, but when it does, it is as good as anything on Surfer’s Choice. In fact, some of the songs would later appear on that studio debut, among them “Surf Beat,” Let’s Go Trippin’” and “Shake ‘N’ Stomp.” I’ll leave those off my favourites list, though, since I’ve already got them on the LP

The one repeat that is better is the classic surfer song “Misirlou” (rediscovered for the movie “Pulp Fiction” in 1994). Overplayed thought this song has become in recent years, there is no denying how awesome it is.

“Surf Beat” for me is a bit of a disappointment, but it isn’t because it is bad. It’s because I know the greatness of “Surfer’s Choice” and the albums that would follow. I take solace knowing that without these early singles, Dale would never have learned the lessons he needed to be great later. You gotta walk before you surf, man.

Best tracks (Surfer’s Choice): Surf Beat, Sloop John B, Take It Off, Surfing Drums, Shake N’ Stomp, Let’s Go Trippin’

Best tracks (Surf Beat): We’ll Never Hear the End of It, Misirlou