Writing about something as common as a Dylan album here at the Heat Warps goes somewhat against the grain. Fortunately, all bets are off when it comes to Self Portrait. Widely accepted as the most bizarre entry in his catalog since its release, the album is a mish-mash collection intended to either throw followers off his scent, one-up the bootleggers or gather up the various facets of his personality into a double album package. Whatever its intention, Self Portrait sold well upon its initial release but was ceremoniously torn apart by its critics. To their credit, there was an awful lot to wrap your head around here: multiple versions of the same song, brass-led instrumentals, choral numbers, weird cover versions, Dylan duetting with himself and a few ramshackle live cuts from the Isle of Wight thrown in for good measure. To quote Greil Marcus' opening line of his Rolling Stone review "What is this shit?" 36 years on it's still hard to answer that question, though one thing's for sure; whatever this shit is, it's pretty damn fascinating. An album of tremendous depth and ambition, Self Portrait is unfairly burdened by the formula Dylan laid out in the years preceding it. If this one isn't already in your collection, set aside some quality time to reap the rewards of a proper listen. My introduction to it was on a 16 hour road trip, nearly every mile of which was reserved for this album. My favorites have always been "Days of '49", "Living the Blues," "Wigwam" and the live version of "Quinn the Eskimo", notably for the squall of feedback that chases Robbie Robertson's guitar solo around like a pair of squirrels on a tree. More than any other Dylan record, listening to Self Portrait is an experience unique to every listener. Enjoy yours. Happy Thanksgiving.
Showing posts with label Country. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Country. Show all posts
Friday
Bob Dylan
Self Portrait - 1970
Writing about something as common as a Dylan album here at the Heat Warps goes somewhat against the grain. Fortunately, all bets are off when it comes to Self Portrait. Widely accepted as the most bizarre entry in his catalog since its release, the album is a mish-mash collection intended to either throw followers off his scent, one-up the bootleggers or gather up the various facets of his personality into a double album package. Whatever its intention, Self Portrait sold well upon its initial release but was ceremoniously torn apart by its critics. To their credit, there was an awful lot to wrap your head around here: multiple versions of the same song, brass-led instrumentals, choral numbers, weird cover versions, Dylan duetting with himself and a few ramshackle live cuts from the Isle of Wight thrown in for good measure. To quote Greil Marcus' opening line of his Rolling Stone review "What is this shit?" 36 years on it's still hard to answer that question, though one thing's for sure; whatever this shit is, it's pretty damn fascinating. An album of tremendous depth and ambition, Self Portrait is unfairly burdened by the formula Dylan laid out in the years preceding it. If this one isn't already in your collection, set aside some quality time to reap the rewards of a proper listen. My introduction to it was on a 16 hour road trip, nearly every mile of which was reserved for this album. My favorites have always been "Days of '49", "Living the Blues," "Wigwam" and the live version of "Quinn the Eskimo", notably for the squall of feedback that chases Robbie Robertson's guitar solo around like a pair of squirrels on a tree. More than any other Dylan record, listening to Self Portrait is an experience unique to every listener. Enjoy yours. Happy Thanksgiving.
Writing about something as common as a Dylan album here at the Heat Warps goes somewhat against the grain. Fortunately, all bets are off when it comes to Self Portrait. Widely accepted as the most bizarre entry in his catalog since its release, the album is a mish-mash collection intended to either throw followers off his scent, one-up the bootleggers or gather up the various facets of his personality into a double album package. Whatever its intention, Self Portrait sold well upon its initial release but was ceremoniously torn apart by its critics. To their credit, there was an awful lot to wrap your head around here: multiple versions of the same song, brass-led instrumentals, choral numbers, weird cover versions, Dylan duetting with himself and a few ramshackle live cuts from the Isle of Wight thrown in for good measure. To quote Greil Marcus' opening line of his Rolling Stone review "What is this shit?" 36 years on it's still hard to answer that question, though one thing's for sure; whatever this shit is, it's pretty damn fascinating. An album of tremendous depth and ambition, Self Portrait is unfairly burdened by the formula Dylan laid out in the years preceding it. If this one isn't already in your collection, set aside some quality time to reap the rewards of a proper listen. My introduction to it was on a 16 hour road trip, nearly every mile of which was reserved for this album. My favorites have always been "Days of '49", "Living the Blues," "Wigwam" and the live version of "Quinn the Eskimo", notably for the squall of feedback that chases Robbie Robertson's guitar solo around like a pair of squirrels on a tree. More than any other Dylan record, listening to Self Portrait is an experience unique to every listener. Enjoy yours. Happy Thanksgiving.
Tuesday
Little Richard
Southern Child - 1972 (unreleased)
Though looked upon fondly under 30 years of hindsight, Little Richard's string of albums for the Reprise label in the early 70s sold so poorly that his fourth and final album, 1972's Southern Child, never saw the light of day. And what a shame, since this final LP was the most diverse and arguably the finest of the lot he recorded for the label. Paired with a campy, albeit very fitting cover photo of Richard milking a cow in the backyard of his own home, Southern Child was a collection that successfully fused the gospel rock of his early days with the gentle country ballads and spacious funk he'd been experimenting with throughout his Reprise series. The result is a triumph - a stylistic breakthrough that had been hinted at across a string of three LPs, and finally rises to the top here. The songs, all originals, are performed elegantly throughout, and find Richard at last freeing his voice from the constraints of self parody to deliver some of the most gentle and emotive performances of his long career. So different is his delivery, that throughout much of the album his vocals are hardly recognizable as his own. All of the tracks here are tremendous and the continuity of Southern Child is supreme, but its brilliance is illustrated most effectively by the second track "If You Pick Her Too Hard (She Comes Out of Tune)". If this LP had seen a proper release it would be the one Little Richard album in everyone's collection, but even with Rhino having included it as part of its King of Rock n' Roll: The Complete Reprise Recordings, the set's limited run of 2500 ensures this LP will stay off the radar for the foreseeable future. If you dug The Rill Thing, this one might just blow your mind.
Though looked upon fondly under 30 years of hindsight, Little Richard's string of albums for the Reprise label in the early 70s sold so poorly that his fourth and final album, 1972's Southern Child, never saw the light of day. And what a shame, since this final LP was the most diverse and arguably the finest of the lot he recorded for the label. Paired with a campy, albeit very fitting cover photo of Richard milking a cow in the backyard of his own home, Southern Child was a collection that successfully fused the gospel rock of his early days with the gentle country ballads and spacious funk he'd been experimenting with throughout his Reprise series. The result is a triumph - a stylistic breakthrough that had been hinted at across a string of three LPs, and finally rises to the top here. The songs, all originals, are performed elegantly throughout, and find Richard at last freeing his voice from the constraints of self parody to deliver some of the most gentle and emotive performances of his long career. So different is his delivery, that throughout much of the album his vocals are hardly recognizable as his own. All of the tracks here are tremendous and the continuity of Southern Child is supreme, but its brilliance is illustrated most effectively by the second track "If You Pick Her Too Hard (She Comes Out of Tune)". If this LP had seen a proper release it would be the one Little Richard album in everyone's collection, but even with Rhino having included it as part of its King of Rock n' Roll: The Complete Reprise Recordings, the set's limited run of 2500 ensures this LP will stay off the radar for the foreseeable future. If you dug The Rill Thing, this one might just blow your mind.Wednesday
Beau Brummels
Bradley's Barn - 1968
Although it was beat out by the Byrds' Sweetheart of the Rodeo by a couple of months in being the first true country rock LP, Bradley's Barn is arguably the superior album in the breadth and depth of the original songs hidden inside its pastoral sleeve. Relatively unknown beyond their association with the mid 60s San Francisco psychedelic folk scene, the Beau Brummels’ first hit "Laugh, laugh" was recorded by Sly Stone (then Sly Stewart) in 1964, but thanks to poor marketing, promotion, and the fact that the Byrds basically did the same thing they were doing, only slightly better, the band toiled in relative obscurity until the release of their phenomenal Triangle LP in 67. It's follow up, Bradley's Barn, paired the band (now down to two original members, Sal Valentino and Ron Elliott) with a slew of Nashville hired guns to create a loose, richly layered collection of mostly original material that leads the way more towards the backwoods stuff The Band were laying down with Dylan around the very same time rather than the Bakersfield country rock mashup the Byrds and Flying Burrito Brothers were dishing out. Criminally overlooked since it was released, the LP is a testament to the astonishing writing and vocal prowess of Elliott and Velentino respectively, and the soaring heights they could reach when everything fell into place. It certainly did here.
Although it was beat out by the Byrds' Sweetheart of the Rodeo by a couple of months in being the first true country rock LP, Bradley's Barn is arguably the superior album in the breadth and depth of the original songs hidden inside its pastoral sleeve. Relatively unknown beyond their association with the mid 60s San Francisco psychedelic folk scene, the Beau Brummels’ first hit "Laugh, laugh" was recorded by Sly Stone (then Sly Stewart) in 1964, but thanks to poor marketing, promotion, and the fact that the Byrds basically did the same thing they were doing, only slightly better, the band toiled in relative obscurity until the release of their phenomenal Triangle LP in 67. It's follow up, Bradley's Barn, paired the band (now down to two original members, Sal Valentino and Ron Elliott) with a slew of Nashville hired guns to create a loose, richly layered collection of mostly original material that leads the way more towards the backwoods stuff The Band were laying down with Dylan around the very same time rather than the Bakersfield country rock mashup the Byrds and Flying Burrito Brothers were dishing out. Criminally overlooked since it was released, the LP is a testament to the astonishing writing and vocal prowess of Elliott and Velentino respectively, and the soaring heights they could reach when everything fell into place. It certainly did here. Tuesday
John Phillips
John, the Wolf King of LA - 1970
Known most prominently as the album whose cover Dylan aped for his Desire LP, John, The Wolf King of
Link Wray
Beans and Fatback - 1973
My personal favorite among the handful of “back to roots” albums Link Wray was knocking out around the early 70s, Beans and Fatback doesn’t have the same intimate charm as 1971’s Link Wray, but it more than makes up for it with a nice helping of fuzzed up, down home rave ups. Although the songs on this one were recorded during the same sessions that produced the self-titled LP, Beans and Fatback was Wray’s way of letting the world know that the man who gave us “Rumble” hadn’t gone soft. This album is all over the place. Kicking off with the bluegrassy title track, everything hits high gear by the 6-minute attack of "I'm So Glad, I'm So Proud". That's followed a few songs down the line by an uptempo rework of Leadbelly's "In the Pines", and yet another rehashing of the very same song near the end of the album! You'd have to be a real sad sack not to find something to like about this one. What a ride!
My personal favorite among the handful of “back to roots” albums Link Wray was knocking out around the early 70s, Beans and Fatback doesn’t have the same intimate charm as 1971’s Link Wray, but it more than makes up for it with a nice helping of fuzzed up, down home rave ups. Although the songs on this one were recorded during the same sessions that produced the self-titled LP, Beans and Fatback was Wray’s way of letting the world know that the man who gave us “Rumble” hadn’t gone soft. This album is all over the place. Kicking off with the bluegrassy title track, everything hits high gear by the 6-minute attack of "I'm So Glad, I'm So Proud". That's followed a few songs down the line by an uptempo rework of Leadbelly's "In the Pines", and yet another rehashing of the very same song near the end of the album! You'd have to be a real sad sack not to find something to like about this one. What a ride!P.S. Original pressings of this LP came with a delicious slice of dried fatback bacon. Awesome.
Wednesday
The Kinks
Muswell Hillbillies - 1971
With every other band of the early 70s time trying their hand at a "back to the roots" record, it's no surprise that the Kinks joined in the fun. The real surprise was that it ended up being one of their finest LPs. Kicking off with the tremendous "20th Century Man", it's evident that Muswell Hillbillies is a strong album, while "Acute Schizophrenia Paranoi Blues", "Holiday", "Alcohol" and "Oklahoma USA" were immediate concert favorites and continue to make appearances in Ray Davies' solo sets. While Village Green..., Arthur and Lola are undeniable classics, none of them come close to the consistency of Muswell Hillbillies. Just listen for yourself! Ray Davies at his songwriting peak and the Kinks in their boozy woozy prime. Cheers to that.
With every other band of the early 70s time trying their hand at a "back to the roots" record, it's no surprise that the Kinks joined in the fun. The real surprise was that it ended up being one of their finest LPs. Kicking off with the tremendous "20th Century Man", it's evident that Muswell Hillbillies is a strong album, while "Acute Schizophrenia Paranoi Blues", "Holiday", "Alcohol" and "Oklahoma USA" were immediate concert favorites and continue to make appearances in Ray Davies' solo sets. While Village Green..., Arthur and Lola are undeniable classics, none of them come close to the consistency of Muswell Hillbillies. Just listen for yourself! Ray Davies at his songwriting peak and the Kinks in their boozy woozy prime. Cheers to that.
Monday
Link Wray
Mordicai Jones - 1971
Since so many visitors enjoyed Link Wray's self-titled 1971 LP, I thought I'd satisfy a request for more of the same. The Mordicai Jones album is an odd one in the Link Wray canon. Recorded during the same sessions that produced Link Wray, Mordicai Jones was was in essence, a Link Wray album though pianist Bobby Howard, aka Mordicai Jones, took top billing. Although Howard's voice was more polished than Links, this record still sounds like music made by folks who actually worked the farm they lived on, and the rough and flinty energy of these sessions wears a lot better than what most of their contemporaries were doing. Now able to concentrate solely on instrumental duties, Link plays some fine slide guitar on this album.
Since so many visitors enjoyed Link Wray's self-titled 1971 LP, I thought I'd satisfy a request for more of the same. The Mordicai Jones album is an odd one in the Link Wray canon. Recorded during the same sessions that produced Link Wray, Mordicai Jones was was in essence, a Link Wray album though pianist Bobby Howard, aka Mordicai Jones, took top billing. Although Howard's voice was more polished than Links, this record still sounds like music made by folks who actually worked the farm they lived on, and the rough and flinty energy of these sessions wears a lot better than what most of their contemporaries were doing. Now able to concentrate solely on instrumental duties, Link plays some fine slide guitar on this album.
Wednesday
Link Wray
Link Wray - 1971
I don't know as much about Link Wray as I should, but I truly love this album. After a hiatus throughout much of the sixties, the man credited with "inventing" the power chord dropped one of the most bizarre comeback albums in music history on an unsuspecting public. Recording many of the instruments himself on a 3-track recorder in his chicken coop-turned-studio, Wray and his brother Vernon created this country-rock masterpiece that rests somewhere between The Band and Captain Beefheart on an island of its own. While at the same time there existed bands who aimed to evoke a rock'n'roll vision of Americana, of white clapboard chapels, dungareed farmers, dusty drifters and outlaws, the Wrays were making the real thing, and doing it better than all of em'. Instead of a drum kit, Wray just had to "stomp real hard" on the floor. "It was no problem--all we wanted was time".
I don't know as much about Link Wray as I should, but I truly love this album. After a hiatus throughout much of the sixties, the man credited with "inventing" the power chord dropped one of the most bizarre comeback albums in music history on an unsuspecting public. Recording many of the instruments himself on a 3-track recorder in his chicken coop-turned-studio, Wray and his brother Vernon created this country-rock masterpiece that rests somewhere between The Band and Captain Beefheart on an island of its own. While at the same time there existed bands who aimed to evoke a rock'n'roll vision of Americana, of white clapboard chapels, dungareed farmers, dusty drifters and outlaws, the Wrays were making the real thing, and doing it better than all of em'. Instead of a drum kit, Wray just had to "stomp real hard" on the floor. "It was no problem--all we wanted was time".
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