The Best of Sandy Posey & Skeeter Davis

You can probably listen to this record several times in the time it takes you to read the extensive biographical notes on the back cover, which include a short bio of each woman (in which we find out they were born Martha Sharp and Mary Frances Penick) and a couple of glowing testimonials about each singer. Each one gets a side, only four songs each, and these are short songs (from back when no one needed more than three minutes to get the point across), the longest being 2:37. I suppose this was a budget record, and whatever it cost new, it was less than a normal LP. Plus, you get two artists for the price of one, or less! It’s on Gusto Records, and after all, “Gusto” means: light on your bankroll. The only drawback is you have to turn the record over every ten minutes—if you’re listening to it “on repeat,” that is, like the kids do today. The other possible drawback is if you alphabetize your records, by artist, where do you put it? For me, that’s easy, since I’m a bigger fan of Skeeter Davis—so it goes with the Davis. But I’m a fan of Sandy Posey, too, and the songs here are all good, including her hit, “Single Girl.” The Skeeter Davis side includes the country classic, “My Last Date With You.” Great songs—the rest of them too—nothing to complain about—eight fine songs, no filler. And almost like a bonus, the final song on the record is Skeeter singing “I Can’t Stay Mad At You,” an incredibly catchy pop number by Carole King and Gerry Goffin. This record (also available on 8-Track and cassette) came out in 1978, the year I graduated from high school (I would not have appreciated it then) and even though vinyl records are more popular than ever, I can’t imagine being able to buy something this good in 2021 with your lunch money. I’m not saying things were better back then… but different? Yes.

Steely Dan “Can’t Buy a Thrill”

I’ve probably written more about Steely Dan than any other musical group in the last few years, so I almost feel like I have to go back and reread what I’ve written not to repeat myself here. On my other website, I have an an entire page dedicated to writing about individual SD songs. I’ve read books about the band, even. It kind of feels like—at this point—an unhealthy obsession—so I thought I’d use this opportunity to announce that I’m through with Steely Dan. Just kidding! But also, I’m not going to try to write either a comprehensive or definitive review of this record. It’s their first LP, and kind of an oddity in that you can sense the process of defining that band—I mean there are three different people taking lead vocals! The odd thing, though, is that there is nothing half-assed about this record—it sounds like a veteran band in the prime of their career. Every single song is excellent—and more than one has become a staple of classic rock airplay until the end of time (I’m assuming that when the Earth has one day evolved into a barren asteroid, there will still be classic rock radio). This is arguably one of the best records from the arguably best year of rock music, 1972.

If I had to pick a favorite song from Side One, it would be “Dirty Work,” and Side Two, it would be “Brooklyn” (even though I’ve tried and failed to understand the subtitle of that song: “Owes the Charmer Under Me”). There are liner notes by “Dan Steele”—an early example of the dry humor that would accompany Steely Dan from here on. This might be one of the first instances of referring to the band as “The Dan”—which serious fans have done seriously since—even though the band, here, is preemptively making fun of that very practice! The cover looks remarkably similar to one of the art collages I made at very nearly the same time in history, though mine didn’t include prostitutes (I was twelve). The band’s logo did not seem to catch on—it looks better suited for a hotdog stand—yet if I had a vintage T-shirt with it, I’d wear that. The record folds open and there’s a quite flattering group photo of the six primary band members at this time (with the essential lyrics printed on top). As much as I appreciate the evolution of SD lineups (Walter Becker and Donald Fagen with a truly impressive and lengthy array of musical geniuses), it kind of makes me sad, in a way, that this particular lineup didn’t just stay together for decades. At least you can find some old footage of them on YouTube—performances from TV shows like Midnight Special, etc.—looking every bit as bizarre and alien now as they probably did then.