Nancy Sinatra “Sugar Town” / “Summer Wine”

The single “Sugar Town,” from 1966, was Nancy Sinatra’s third or so big hit, after “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” and “How Does That Grab You Darlin’?”—all of them written by Lee Hazlewood. They had quite an inspired collaboration, the two of them. Lee Hazlewood is one of my favorite singers and songwriters, and probably one of Nancy Sinatra’s, as well. They really had something going. If Lee hadn’t come along, Nancy might be best known for “Somethin’ Stupid”—which isn’t bad, and even kind of twisted, but nowhere as twisted as some Lee H. songs (like “Some Velvet Morning”). As far as I know, they never were a couple, either, which strikes me as kind of cool. Also, I don’t think there’s anything to that old rumor that Frank’s henchmen took Lee out in the desert and dropped him off a cliff. I imagine Frank rather liked Lee. Anyway, it’s a nice, poppy song, and has the distinction of rhyming Tennessee and Tallahassee, but it’s hard not to hear it as a drug allegory—most likely some kind of opiate—but then, it could just as easily be about being in love—or having a run of good luck.

The B-side, “Summer Wine,” is much better, though. It’s also written by Lee Hazlewood—and is a Nancy and Lee duet. It’s a great song— a three-and-a-half-minute epic, with strings, drama, mysterious imagery. It’s essentially them alternating half a dozen verses, but as Nancy’s verse is repeated, it serves as the chorus, while Lee’s verses tell the story—pretty much a tragic Western noir. At first, Nancy’s lines (“Strawberries, cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring…”) sound innocent, nostalgic—but as Lee’s lines (“My silver spurs were gone, my head felt twice its size…”) advance the story of a cowboy who’s come to town to be seduced, drugged, and robbed—Nancy’s lines, even though they don’t vary, take on a completely darker complexion. With each of her parts, even though the words are exactly the same, you might hear increasingly sinister subtext. Again, it could be an allegory for drugs, or crime, or just love gone wrong. Maybe all of those, but then again, maybe something else as well. Or… dare you imagine it… maybe it’s simply love. It’s a pretty incredible song, actually—one of my favorites from those two.

Del & Sue Smart “Singing Country Favorites”

I admit to buying this 1967 record because the cover is so awesome—I had never heard of Del & Sue Smart. It’s a posed photo of Del & Sue Smart out in the woods—trees in the foreground and background—and they’re wearing exceptionally smart, matching, western-wear—suit and dress, with diamond-shaped embellishments and some sequins, it looks like. Some shade of yellow—I would probably call it “mustard”—but maybe I’ll try to figure it out.  Maybe darker than mustard, perhaps goldenrod, or even gold, but non-metallic. Del (I assume) is holding some kind of resonator guitar—I don’t know what company—double cutaway—but I can’t see the headstock. I looked at the whole internet, and I couldn’t match it up to anything. They both have great hair—but I’m trying to keep these reviews under 1000 words. They look like real people, too, and the important thing is, for some reason, they strike me good people—maybe I’m fooled by those smiles, but I’d like to believe. The label—Somerset—I’m guessing they didn’t have deep pockets, but they did a nice job with this cover. I like how the color of the “Del & Sue Smart” letters are matched up with their suits—very effective—the art department was working overtime.

Because I was focused on the cover, it almost seemed like a bonus that the record is not only listenable—it’s quite good. A fine song selection with some serious country playing, and nice duet singing. I love duets, actually, but then, who doesn’t? Good pickin’, strummin’, and whatnot, piano, steel guitar, and the rest. But no musician credits. Ten songs, with no songwriting credits either. I’ll see if I know any of them. The first, one of the best on the record, “Just Between You and Me,” is a song by Jack Clement and was recorded by Charley Pride. I know that because I looked it up on the big computer. I suppose I could do that for all the songs, but I’m not going to—I’m only being paid pennies per word here, after all! I like “Memory Street” a lot—good song! I tend to like the slow and melancholy country songs, rather than the jaunty ones. It’s interesting listening to their solo singing parts, too—both of them have killer voices, on their own—Sue’s is full and polished, like vinegar and fine olive oil, and Del’s is a bit more quirky, not unlike mustard—and then together, voila! They blend really well, like when you make salad dressing and that mustard works as an emulsifier. “Let Me Say I Love You” is another very big favorite here. But they’re all good.

Skeeter Davis & Bobby Bare “Tunes for Two”

There are a few Skeeter Davis duet records—the ones I’ve heard are right up there with her solo records—and this one is, too. Bobby Bare is a big name in country music—but I know nothing about him—so I’ll look him up. The big computer says Bobby Bare is his real name, he’s 86, has a birthday coming up, and is from Ironton, Ohio, which is on the river. I’m from Ohio, and I consider everything south of Lake Erie “The South” and anything along the Ohio River “The Deep South.” This record, from 1965, is one of his early ones—and he did a second duet record with Skeeter Davis in 1970 called “Your Husband My Wife”—which is a great title, and a bit of a brain twister. I like that title so much, I looked up his discography, and he’s kind of king of great album titles. I’ll list some here: This is Bare Country, I Need Some Good News Bad, What Am I Gonna Do?, Singin’ in the Kitchen (which I think I have!), The Winner and Other Losers, Drunk & Crazy, As Is, Drinkin’ from the Bottle, Darker Than Light, and my favorite: (Margie’s At) The Lincoln Park Inn (And Other Controversial Country Songs).

This cover is really cute—Skeeter and Bobby leaning on each other—they almost look like brother and sister—they have the same blue eyes. They’re both kind of wedged against some mysterious something—it’s either part of a car or a jukebox—I’m going with the latter—but it’s an odd pose. Bobby Bare reminds me of someone I know. Skeeter Davis—who looks different in every photo you see her in—in this particular look, also reminds me of someone I know. On back, they each write some liner notes—about each other. It’s ever cuter than the cover, if that’s possible.

This is a great record—it’s produced by Chet Atkins. All twelve songs are very good. Here are some of the highlights. “A Dear John Letter” has Skeeter singing, and then Bobby Bare doing the spoken part—about getting such a letter while overseas—it’s quite effective. “Too Used to Being with You” is one of the crazier song titles on the album, and it’s also a good song. “In the Misty Moonlight,” written by Cindy Walker, is one of my favorites on this record. “We’ll Sing in the Sunshine,” another good one—a Gale Garnett song—a little bit bubblegum, a bit bouncy—and nice the way they mix vocal parts. “I Love You,” by Billy Barton, is another one with Bobby doing a spoken part—it’s pretty great. I can imagine a lot of people—maybe who are not fans of country music, or maybe just younger—might think this kind thing is hopelessly corny. It is a bit corny, but it’s too bad if you can’t appreciate it. “Out of Our Minds” is my favorite on the record—it’s a song by Melba Montgomery—I’ve heard it somewhere else—I think on that great John Prine album of duets—I don’t remember who sings it with him (I can look it up—Melba Montgomery, duh). Actually, my very favorite here, is their version of “Let It Be Me”—just because that’s one of my favorite songs, period—I suppose you can do a bad version of that song, but you’d have to work at it—this is a very good one—with them each doing a spoken part—it’s kind of the epic number of the record. I, of course, remember “Together Again” from my childhood—I suppose the Buck Owens version. It ends with “Invisible Tears,” which is catchy and upbeat crossed with some really weird and bleak lyrics. That’s country music!

Nancy Sinatra “Nancy’s Greatest Hits (With a Little Help from Her Friends)”

I’ve had and lost countless Nancy Sinatra records—all of them include some really great songs, and occasionally an annoying song—but they’re all worth owning, particularly the older ones. Always excellent album covers, with Nancy wearing something that mere mortals can’t get away with—like this one, on bathroom tile pink, where she’s creatively wearing what looks like matching linen end-table covers—fashioned into a skirt and blouse. This is another record from 1970! It’s a real hodgepodge of songs, all of it listenable, especially if you’re a Nancy Sinatra fan. I personally don’t hate “Something Stupid” (duet with Frank), but I wouldn’t mind never hearing it again. I could also do without the duet with Dean Martin (“Things”) but it’s kind of cute. As usual, my favorite songs are the Lee Hazlewood numbers—he was a great collaborator for Nancy, even if her dad didn’t approve. (I still don’t know if there’s anything to that story about Frank Sinatra’s henchmen taking Lee Hazlewood out to the desert.) If your daughter sang a duet like “Some Velvet Morning” with a guy who looked and sounded like Lee Hazlewood, you might want to have the guy’s legs broken, too—that’s one twisted song. It’s also my all-time favorite Nancy and Lee song—in my opinion, the best thing either of them ever did, apart or together—some serious pop-culture art. “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” is a bit of a novelty, but still a fine song. “Summer Wine” is also an excellent one. This record also includes “You Only Live Twice”—the title song for the James Bond movie by that name. It’s one of my favorite five Bond title songs (the only reason I don’t say number one is there’s some seriously stiff competition in Bond title songs). It’s one of those songs that never fails to take me back to when I first heard it. Oddly, there’s room on Side 2 for one more song—if I’d been “the man” at Reprise, I’d have added, maybe “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” (one of my favorite versions of a song done by everyone), or the theme song from “Tony Rome,” or “The City Never Sleeps At Night” (a superior B-side), or “Sundown, Sundown”—just because it’s my second favorite Nancy and Lee song—kind of a companion to “Some Velvet Morning.” Also, I’d have put a different picture on the back cover (than the identical front cover)—just because… it’s a missed opportunity, when you have someone as beautiful as Nancy Sinatra—and a whole world of crazy wardrobe she would enhance.

Willie Nelson “Half Nelson”

The intersection of artists who are immensely popular and artists I like is astoundingly small, but that’s where Willie Nelson lies, along with a few filmmakers and few other country singers. I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m just being halfway honest. Ever since I first heard Willie Nelson sing I’ve been trying to figure out what makes his voice sound like it does. The only answer I’ve come up with is: because it’s Willie Nelson’s voice. Even though some of this stuff is previously released, you figure duets with 10 of popular music’s biggest stars should be an automatic home-run—but alas, it’s merely a “half nelson” (a wrestling move that, if you use it in a baseball game, you’ll be ejected from the game and heavily fined). That’s because, besides 10 duet-ists, there’s also a wide variety of arrangements and producers—some aren’t half bad, but some are half-assed. And this came out in 1985, a dismal year for the “hot sounds.” Willie would have been around 20 when Hank Williams died, so technically their duet here could have been recorded in the early-Fifties, but I suspect another method was used: séance. It sounds like Hank, even from the grave. What’s kind of funny is how Ray Charles sounds so much like Ray Charles, and Willie and Leon Russell doing a Rolling Stones song sounds just like a Leon Russell song. My favorite is “Half a Man,” with George Jones (sounds like George Jones, and Willie!) in keeping with the theme—and a nice song. One of my favorite product names is “half & half”—incidentally, and my brother and I started a conceptual band called “Half”—not because we’re each in a different city, but because there’s music, alright, but no real band. The hideous album cover looks like it took a half-hour from conception to print-ready—ugly, too—it would cause me psychic harm to even describe it. I’ve got to get some better Willie Nelson records—I really do like him, and he’s put out maybe thousands, I don’t know. I wonder if there are other funny play-on-words titles—no doubt. Though I believe “Full Nelson” is a Willie Nelson tribute band—you have to wonder if they “antiqued” their guitars, and just how much the singer sounds like Willie—kind of doesn’t seem possible.

John Prine “In Spite of Ourselves”

This is a record I know well, since I made a cassette tape of it late in the last millennium, from the CD source—one of my favorite albums in recent years (last two decades)—but it’s the first thing I put on up here in the cabin, as I noticed there is a sticker on the record that says, “First Time On Vinyl!”—so apparently it was only available on CD before, and it’s reissued by OHBOY Records on 180 gram vinyl. If you thought your record collection was a bitch to move back in the old days, wait until everything is on 180 gram vinyl—your friends are gonna become scarce on moving day. One thing that bugs me sometimes when an album originates on CD and then is put out on vinyl, it retains the track numbers, like in this case, 1 thru 16, rather than side one, 1 thru 8, side two, 1 thru 8, etc. A small thing, but it’s another reminder about another facet about CDs that sucked.

This is a record of all duets, a great tradition of country and western music, where a man and woman can do something together more intimate than sex and no one gets divorced or shot (at least we hope). It’s also a covers record, with an incredible collection of great songs, some fairly familiar and some pretty obscure (at least to me, before this record). It makes sense that a great songwriter like John Prine would come up with an amazing group of songs to cover—and they are all songs that lend themselves to duets. One song by JP, “In Spite of Ourselves,” is maybe the best one on the record. My next favorite here is “Let’s Invite Them Over,” by Onie Wheeler, which is fairly twisted—you’ve just got to listen to it. John Prine’s distinctive singing voice really works well with these strong women singers, among them: Iris Dement, Connie Smith, Lucinda Williams, Trisha Yearwood, Melba Montgomery, Emmylou Harris, Dolores Keane, Patty Loveless, and Fiona Prine. The most and my favorite are with Iris Dement, not surprisingly, since she is my favorite living singer in this whole fragile world. My only complaint here at the cabin is that there’s not more Iris Dement records—I’ve spent more time searching for them than I have looking for hidden marijuana.

Porter Wagoner and Skeeter Davis “Sing Duets”

I have more records by Skeeter Davis than any other recording artist, but I don’t have even half of the albums she released in a long career. If I had to name a favorite singer (please don’t make me do that) I would not hesitate to say Skeeter Davis. For some reason I can’t explain, she has a special place in my heart. And that is just based on the recorded music of hers I’ve been lucky enough to hear. She is firmly based in country and western, but crossed over to pop, and always sounds to me like a little of both, so maybe that’s part of the appeal. But mostly I just love her voice. It always strikes me as having an underlying sadness to it, but also an outward expression of hope, joy, and happiness. But there also is just a quality of someone singing at home, maybe, just one person to another. Or maybe in church, or while working. Her voice always strikes me as the opposite of slick, professional, over-produced. I guess in some sense, there is the same essence of what is essential to me about punk music in her voice, and that is at the heart of the music I love—that quality of “I’m doing it my way”—even when the smoother road might have been strongly suggested as the easier path to success.

This record, from 1962, is one of her earliest albums, and it’s a duet record with Porter Wagoner, who is, of course, one of the giants of country music. I’ve always been aware of him, but never a big fan, which doesn’t mean I might not be someday, if I’d take the time to get to know his music through and through. It starts out with a song that—if this was the song I was to judge Skeeter Davis on, that’d be my loss—not my kind of song. If there was one word I’d use to describe a style of music (any music) I don’t like, it would be “jaunty”—and so much do I despise jaunty music, it makes me wonder about the sanity and even human quality of fans of the jaunty (as in, are they pod people, or Stepford wives?) After that alarming start, though, they settle into really beautifully sung versions of some classic country songs—sweet, introspective, and melancholy. My favorites here are: “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You,” “Heaven Help Me,” “Sorrow’s Tearing Down the House (That Happiness Built),” and “There’s Always One (Who Loves a Lot)”—but really, they’re all good.

This is on the RCA Victor label (with the dog looking down the Gramophone horn) and has a very old-fashioned, color drawing of the two singers on the cover, in a style that makes me think of a young adult romance series book. The blond woman in a blue dress doesn’t match that much any likeness to any Skeeter Davis photo I’ve seen. A sliver of photograph on back (of part of the recording studio control board) accompanies some extensive liner notes in typewriter font by Bill Porter (legendary Nashville recording engineer) where he goes on about how much he loves these songs, but also thinks highly of the artists. It’s very nice, really, but then he goes on about especially one song, which happens to be the jaunty song on here I don’t like (“Rock-A-Bye Boogie”). Oh, well, I guess it’s all a matter of taste, and that’s what makes the world interesting. As I continue to listen, it strikes me—as well as these two voices compliment each other, Porter Wagoner’s is so straight-up country, that—and especially on the kind of duet where he sings a verse, and then she does—you really hear a contrast in their voices—and the quality of her voice (that’s an ongoing obsession with me, trying to understand why I love it so much) it occurs to me that it sounds a little unhinged—if you know what I mean. You probably don’t, but I mean that in the best way.