Archive for October, 2018

30
Oct
18

Bob Dylan “New Morning”

I’m not exactly sure where this record fits in the BD timeline—it seems to be one of his Nashville records, produced by Bob Johnston, there’s studio musicians, and David Bromberg plays on it, and Al Kooper, and there’s a lot of piano. This is a great record; I kind of wish it was the first Dylan record I ever heard and then based my whole BD experience on the foundation of that experience. Somehow I’ve never heard much of it—though “If Dogs Run Free” somewhere came to me in a weirdness care package. I think it’s pretty likely that this record was released well after BD’s replacement with the new Dylan, but some of the songs here are from the original Dylan vault. That said, the new one is pulling off some pretty good replication of the old one, to the extent that I don’t even feel confident offering my track by track guess on who is singing. Somehow I never heard the song “The Man in Me” until I heard it in the movie, The Big Lebowski—and it’s a great song, and really important to that movie.

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26
Oct
18

Jimmy Buffett “A White Sport Coat and A Pink Crustacean”

I haven’t been able to listen to Jimmy Buffett since the first time I heard “Cheeseburger in Paradise” for the hundredth time, so I put this record on against my better judgement, but I had my reasons, including the fact that I used to be a huge JB fan, around the time the Changes in Latitudes record came out, which led me to an earlier record, Highway A1A, which inspired my imagination and sense of adventure at the time (once when I was 18, then again 19, and brings back memories of Bocador Rum, CocoRibe Liqueur, Passport Scotch), heading down to Florida on spring break and exploring the Atlantic coastline. He has written some really good songs and goes all out with the lyrics, even if sometimes he goes too all out. The worst thing about Jimmy Buffett, now, I guess, is that he sounds too much like Jimmy Buffett.

It’s not his fault entirely that his name evokes all-you-can-eat crab legs on a cruise ship. A second reason for putting this on is that it’s from 1973, the year I started drinking, and my appreciation of JB goes hand in hand with drinking, preferably rum drinks with a lot of either pineapple or coconut or both—and also, I’ve never heard this record, that I can recall. It occurred to me that a good name for crusty old white guy music might be “Pink Crustacean Music”—which would be inspired by this title. That is also the title of a short liner note on the back cover by Tom McGuane which, if I understand it correctly, is a criticism of the seriousness of the folk movement and an appreciation of JB’s blender of country, fruit juice, show biz, and intoxicants. Plus, how bad can a record be that has songs titled “Peanut Butter Conspiracy” and “Death of an Unpopular Poet”? Also, included here, is the classic bar sing-a-long (credited to “Marvin Gardens”) “Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw.” Alas, I’m afraid, for me, the SS Jimmy Buffett has long since sailed.

24
Oct
18

Link Wray “Be What You Want To”

In the half century that I’ve been alive and aware of appreciating awesome things, the fact that not one of my scores of friends and hundreds of acquaintances (not to mention all the rock critics and makers of the “best of all time” lists) had enthusiastically encouraged me to listen to this record points out a fundamental failure in my life. Or maybe I just don’t listen to people. I guess there is the likelihood that the failure is all on me. Whatever the problem was, it’s been resolved in regard to this Link Wray album from 1973. (Which I know I’ve said a hundred times is the most awesome year for culture in my life—though I haven’t figured out yet if it’s something about that year, exactly, or just my relationship to it—maybe because it’s the year I started drinking?) All of these songs have huge, overblown arrangements, some of which might have swallowed up the immediacy, but Link Wray’s singing has a way of not only cutting through all the instruments and production, but bringing it right back to the edge of a garage band. I might easily go on and on, but sometimes the less said the better—just heed my A+ and 5 Stars (of 5) and my rating of 11 on a scale of one to ten, and listen to the record, and if you don’t agree with me then go fuck yourself!

23
Oct
18

Bob Dylan “Nashville Skyline”

There is the theory that there have been two Bob Dylan’s, the Robert Zimmerman who made the music up through Blonde on Blonde, and then the one who “became” Bob Dylan after he was killed in the motorcycle accident (likely no motorcycle accident, but a more mundane or sordid death, and the motorcycle accident was an invented story for the time away, to recover, but there was no recovery, just death). The second Dylan is a guy, probably a talented but unsuccessful Nashville musician (who sings a lot like Jim Nabors) who looked like Dylan (a guy who “fit the jacket”—as in the Greg Brady fitting the jacket Brady Bunch episode) and could play, and saw this as a weird gig he’d be able to step away from eventually with some cash—but later realized it was actually the Devil’s Opportunity of the Century, and there was no escape until the escape of death, ultimately.

Which is a long way around of saying this record sounds like nothing that Dylan had done before, while sounding exactly like what he had done before—which is of course, keeping in line with what he (both of him) has always done. (Actually, the multiple Dylans in Todd Haynes’ movie, I’m Not There (2007) is a much better conspiracy theory, kind of like the Shakespeare being-a-collective theory—and I realize that movie is not a theory, it’s an innovative and brilliant approach to Dylan—but often from art arises not just metaphorical but actual truth.) Anyway, I think I heard this way back when I was in high school and I didn’t like it—the Jim Nabors voice freaked me out, and I didn’t like country and western, yet, at that time—but now, this is one of my favorite BD records, and “Lay Lady Lay,” a song I once couldn’t stand, is one of my favorites, as well as “Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here with You.”

21
Oct
18

Michael Hurley “Ida Con Snock”

In the Michael Hurley world, the word “snock” means something pretty significant, but since I can’t look it up on the internet I have no idea what—though I’m not even sure if the internet would help on this one (maybe the snock-net would help). (In the perfect “North Woods” world, I’d find, in this cabin, a dusty old volume of Complete Guide to Snock.) I’m going to guess it either means “drunk”—or it’s the name of his cat. So I have no idea why this record is called Ida Con Snock, and then says: Ida, again, as if it’s two records in one, though it’s only one. Anyway, this is a really good record. It’s pretty straightforward, kind of country folk songs, but very much Michael Hurly songs, and sounds like him, but with a full band, or at least drums and other instruments and other singers. The thing that really stands out right off is really good drums. Drums are often the first thing I’ll hear on a record, and this drumming is fine, and credited as Ruth Keating. Who is this Ruth Keating? There is a picture of her among the musicians (and pictures of other musicians, I assume members of Ida?) I almost can’t wait to get back to the city and that big, fast internet so I can do some research about the people playing on this record with Hurley. I’m guessing it’s a collaboration of MH with a band called Ida, of which no individual member is named Ida, which is okay, I guess, there was no Jethro Tull or Lynyrd Skynyrd, either.

Another thing I’m going to do with the internet is put dates on each of these records, since the record companies often seem to think that’s not important, or else maybe avoid it on purpose for some reason. But I’m not going to add notes or research; I figure anyone reading this can do that if they care to. The back cover of this record has photos of a bunch of musicians that look kind of like they’d be in 3-D if you had 3-D glasses. I’m guessing they are fairly young and hipsterish and Ida, though I have no idea where they are from, maybe Portland or Athens or the Twin Cites or Brooklyn or Richmond or whatever is the new place (Joliet? Covelo? Port Clinton?) This is another record I just keep playing over and over but kind of don’t want to dig too deep into any individual song because I feel like it might detract from my overall pleasure; the songs are all great, and the instruments sound live and organic—there’s a real immediacy to it. I even like the fiddle. Another good cover painting by Hurley. Maybe IDA is an acronym? (I’m Drunk Again.)

15
Oct
18

The Gerry Mulligan Quartet “What Is There to Say?”

Somehow I ended up with two of these albums, even though I’m not particularly a rabid Gerry Mulligan fan—which leads me to believe it was a fairly popular jazz record which you could sell a mint copy on the internet for about $2.00. I’m listening to it now, though, and it’s great. I’m going to keep one of these just as pure listening for pleasure record—the other copy is up for grabs. It just occurred to me—what do I have against Gerry Mulligan? Maybe it’s his first name that bothers me—that name, I’m never sure if it’s “Jerry” or “Gary”—I mean, I guess it’s always pronounced like Jerry—okay—sorry to offend the Gerry’s out there, that’s not fair. Maybe it’s his last name, which is some kind of stew, I guess, and also an unfortunate golf term—but it’s also Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel—one of my favorite children’s picture books—so I should come around it it! Also, he’s a blond guy playing jazz—no big deal, or shouldn’t be—but say, the picture of him on the cover of this album—you’ve never seen such long blond eyelashes. Actually, he really reminds me of someone on this cover photo—its either some famous actress or someone I know—I should just try to get that out of my head or I’ll go nuts trying to think of who. And then… he plays—or is most well known for—a weird instrument—the baritone saxophone—which isn’t really that weird actually, and is really pretty cool, and sounds great. So all in all, I should just really come around to Gerry Mulligan!

The liner notes on back are by Gerry Mulligan, and pretty good—a bit of a diatribe against the over-seriousness of jazz criticism—not too angry, good-natured. The quartet is Mulligan, Art Farmer on trumpet, Bill Crown on bass, and Dave Bailey on drums. Eight songs, some standards like “My Funny Valentine” and “Just in Time,” and some originals by Mulligan, including one called “Utter Chaos.” The songs were all recorded right about the time I was being conceived, if not biologically, working up to it with what I hope were romantic good times. My dad might have had this record, actually, though I don’t recall seeing it in his collection—though I might have ignored it, just thinking about how you could land a helicopter on that dude’s eyelashes. It’s the kind of stuff my dad listened to—he liked cool jazz—and maybe my mom, too—I’m not sure, now that I think about it—whose records were whose, for sure—which ones they each brought to the relationship, and then which ones they bought after the marriage. It’s too late to ask them now, too—kind of sad. Anyone reading this whose parents are still alive, make sure you ask them all those questions, important or not, while you have the chance!

03
Oct
18

Sarah Vaughan “The Lonely Hours”

I didn’t know I had this 1964 Sarah Vaughan record, and it’s a good one—I should be putting it on regularly. Twelve bluesy, dramatic songs, arranged by Benny Carter, roughly on the theme of lost love. Sarah Vaughan doesn’t hold back. It’s a nice copy, too, on Roulette records, with that lovely two-tone target checkerboard label. The cover looks like it’s part of an actual painting (no one painted square paintings) that has more deep blue color than any record I own. It’s what looks like a NYC row-house apartment, big steps going up to a darkened front door. The only light is from the bay window, in which a woman, wearing a neglige, I think, is standing, looking out (presumably, in this context, for an absent lover). She may or may not be smoking—a cigarette, that is—one might say she’s “smoking,” as in hot. I don’t talk that way, personally, but I do think it’s odd that she’s white, while Sarah Vaughan, who’s record this is, after all, is black. You’d think they could have found an image that more closely reflected the artist at hand. I wonder if there was a discussion at the label about it. Maybe that’s not so weird, there are sometimes women on the cover of Sinatra records, it’s not always him. White women, of course. No, it’s fucked up.

Quite unrelated, I noticed that there is a Wikipedia page for, besides Sarah Vaughan, a Sara Vaughn—which just struck me as funny because her name is like the more famous singer, but without the “h” in Sarah, and without the second “a” in Vaughan. Sara Vaughn—a middle-distance runner of sufficient success to get a Wikipedia page. She’s 32 years old, five foot one (like the Iggy Pop song), and her race seems to the the 1500 meters—which was close, in distance, to my best race (the mile—but we hadn’t gone metric, yet). Oh, that’s interesting—her best mile time is 4:27—that’s exactly my best mile time! I make nothing of this coincidence—I just take every opportunity to brag about that personal best, since it was not bad for a high school kid in the 1970s. “I’ll Never Be the Same”—is a standout on this record—it’s a familiar song, no doubt I’ve heard Sinatra do it—same with “If I Had You.” “You’re Driving Me Crazy” is another familiar one—I think I know the Kay Starr version—but that song (written by Walter Donaldson) goes back to 1930, the year my dad was born, and was recorded by well over a hundred artists. It makes you wonder if that was even an expression before this song—and if so, where’d it come from? Anyway, I could go on and on—I love all these songs. “(In My) Solitude” and “These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)” are standouts. It’s a real mood record—I’ll have to keep it in mind for the next time I break up with someone… if ever… again… A notion so distant… I’m sure there’s a song about that.




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