Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Nat King Cole - Where Did Everyone Go? (1963)


It's interesting the way Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole influenced each other's music. Cole was the first of the pair to pick up on arranger Gordon Jenkins, a man whose heavily dramatic string charts defined him as a leading instrumental voice of his era. Cole tapped Jenkins to score his gorgeous Love Is The Thing album in 1957, which preceded Sinatra's first collaboration with Jenkins on Where Are You? by several months.

But it was Sinatra who came up with the idea of using Jenkins' haunting style to underscore an entire album of thematically-linked melancholy ballads. The first of these, Where Are You? is the most classic of them, but there were several others, including No One Cares, All Alone, September Of My Years, and She Shot Me Down.

By 1963, the first three Sinatra-Gordon "theme albums" must have left enough of an impression on Cole that he decided to try one himself. The result was Where Did Everyone Go? an album that stands as one of Cole's best and most deeply moving albums.

When Cole first employed Jenkins, the pairing resulted in two highly romantic (and popular) albums, Love Is The Thing and The Very Thought Of You. For their third outing, Cole and Jenkins moved into the realm of religious music with Every Time I Hear The Spirit. But this forth effort takes its cue from Sinatra's albums about loneliness and alienation and it's similar to them right down to the title, the cover art, and the achingly sad sound.

This represented a major stylistic change for Cole. Gone are sweet-natured love songs like "Mona Lisa" and jaunty tunes like "Rambling Rose." In their place are dirges about loneliness, alienation, and depression. While nothing is overtly political, these songs can now be seen as a metaphor for the turmoil Cole endured throughout his career (more on this below). It also makes you wonder what he might have gone on to do had he not died less than two years after this album's release.

Cole's vocal style might seem ill-suited to a "dark night of the soul" album like Where Did Everyone Go? As a singer, he was warm and smooth, and not known to go for grand gestures. Yet that's the key to why this LP works so well. Cole holds back. In doing so, he speaks volumes with the emotions he doesn't display.

Cole didn't have Sinatra's way of dousing his listeners in waves of feeling, so he goes in the opposite direction. He sings these songs "straight," with a stiff-upper-lip and a plastered-on smile. The juxtaposition between his restrained vocals and Jenkins' weepy strings creates a dramatic tension that makes these songs of heartbreak and loss seem even sadder. Cole sounds so paralyzed by depression that it seems like he's "Laughing On The Outside (Crying on the Inside)," to quote one of the song titles.

This concept, which was popularized in the opera Pagliacci, was later picked up by Smokey Robinson for several of his songs including "Tears Of A Clown," "The Tracks of My Tears," and "I Gotta Dance To Keep From Crying." It's probably not a stretch to say that Robinson was influenced by this album. Because early rock critics pitted older vocal music against then-new rock'n'roll, people assume it didn't have much of an influence on what came later. It did, and it shows up everywhere from Motown to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds.

Like Pet Sounds, sales of Where Did Everyone Go? didn't match Cole's previously albums. Not by a long shot. The LP didn't make the Top 40 albums chart and its lone single, the title track, didn't chart at all.

But you get the feeling that Cole recorded this album more for artistic reasons than commercial ones. By the time this LP was released, Cole had racked up 50 hits on the Hot 100, and that was just in the rock era (from 1955 onward). He'd also placed ten albums in the Top Ten on the Billboard albums chart.

The album that immediately preceded Where Did Everyone Go? was Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days Of Summer, which reached #14 and spawned two hit singles: The title track (which hit #6 in May of '63) and "That Sunday, That Summer" (which got to #12 that August). So by the time of Where Did Everyone Go? Cole didn't really have much to prove commercially. This was an impressive achievement considering he was the first African-American entertainer to become a major mainstream star in both the worlds of music and television.

On his way to the top, though, Cole was assaulted onstage and never could find a national sponsor for his TV show. It's telling that with all that success in his rear view mirror, Where Did Everyone Go? is what Cole chose to give to the world.

If you've never dug deep into Nat King Cole's work before, this is an excellent place to start. Besides the first-rate performances and arrangements, the songs play against each other well. Keep in mind, though, that this album ranks with Phil Ochs' Pleasures of the Harbor and Nick Drake's Bryter Layter as one of the most mournfuk-sounding orchestral pop records ever made. The more I listen to it, the more I wonder if its string arrangements didn't influence those two albums.

The title song is one of the best things that Cole ever sang. It's got a clever lyrical construction that contains a surprise (skip the next line if you want to keep it a surprise). Like Squeeze's "Up the Junction" and Pink Floyd's "The Final Cut," "Where Did Everyone Go?" builds its case little by little and only reveals its title in its last line -- by which point it packs an emotional wallop. The words were penned by Mack David, the older brother of Burt Bacharach collaborator Hal David. The elder David gets overlooked because of the bigger success of his younger brother, but he had his hand in several important songs, like "Baby It's You," "It Must Be Him," and "I Don't Care If The Sun Don't Shine."

The rest of the tracks hold their own too. Some of the best include Cole's rendition of "Am I Blue?" (which is usually associated with Billie Holiday), "When The World Was Young" (done later by Sinatra), and "I Keep Going Back To Joe's" which Cole introduced with this album.

This is the stereo mix from CD, which looks to be out of print since it's going for crazy prices used. I have a mono vinyl copy I might post in the future if I can clean up the sound enough. But for the stereo edition, I recommend listening with headphones, where it feels like you're drowning in Jenkins' strings and Cole's sorrow. It's hard to imagine anything further removed from "Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days Of Summer," which had to have been Cole's intention.

Related posts:
June Christy - Something Cool (1954; 1991 Edition)
Frank Sinatra - In the Wee Small Hours (1955; 1998 UK Remaster)
The Four Grads - From This Moment On (1956)
Eydie & Steve - Cozy (Mono Mix, 1961)
The King Sisters - The Answer Is Love (1969)

Track list:
1. Where Did Everyone Go?
2. Say It Isn't So
3. If Love Ain't There
4. (Ah the Apple Trees) When The World Was Young
5. Am I Blue?
6. Someone To Tell It To
7. The End Of A Love Affair
8. I Keep Going Back To Joe's
9. Laughing On The Outside (Crying on the Inside)
10. No, I Don't Want Her
11. Spring Is Here
12. That's All There Is

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Trouser Press - Issue #78 (Oct. 1982)


What a difference a few words can make. There was a single sentence in this issue of Trouser Press that had a marked effect on my life. Reviewing Elvis Costello's Imperial Bedroom, Scott Isler wrote the following about the album:

"But it can't -- or rather won't -- be ignored, just as the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds (another album of brilliant compositions that eluded the public upon release) had to be redeemed by history."

This observation, which was tucked at the end of the review, got me to think seriously about the Beach Boys at a time when few people in my high school age/peer group) were thinking along such lines. Even though I already owned the Endless Summer collection and knew Brian Wilson had a reputation as some sort of eccentric genius, I'd never heard anyone speak of him and Elvis Costello in the same breath.

Yes, I know that in 1982 Lester Bangs, Dave Marsh, and Robert Christgau might have been having conversations about both these songwriters. But I'm talking about high school kids here -- the ones that bought records and set the pace for what was and wasn't cool. And in 1982, the Beach Boys were not particularly liked among either the new wave/MTV cliques or the stoner/Judas Priest crowd (in fact, that latter might just beat you up for even mentioning "wimp music").

I actually remember being at a party and talking about the Beach Boys to a girl who was a huge pop music fan and even she got angry with me and asked "Can we talk about something else?" Her annoyance was typical of the kids in my generation. You have to remember that in 1982 there was no Internet and no CD box sets with elaborate liner notes. So it wasn't easy to find intelligent critical assessments of Pet Sounds. The only info I could find back then was in the original "Rolling Stone Record Guide," where the LP earned only a four-star rating (out of five) and the group's career afterwards was pretty much written off.

Since the lyrically dense and musically complex Imperial Bedroom was my favorite album at the time, I decided I had to get Pet Sounds. In the pre-CD era, this wasn't easy to do. The chain record stores didn't stock it, and the indie stores were too hopped up on post-punk to make room for it. Again, this might be hard to fathom now, but that's the way it was.

Eventually, I did find a used reissue copy of the album in an independent shop known for its eclectic stock. But when I brought it home I realized it was in mono. Strange. I was bewildered as to why any 1966 album by a major label band wouldn't have been in stereo. But after calling a record collector friend who gave me the lowdown on this (which I'm sure everyone knows these days), it became one of my favorite records ever. And, of course, in a few years everyone would know since the album was regularly at the top of countless "best albums ever" lists and middle school teachers were playing it in class to demonstrate orchestral sounds to their students.

But in the early 1980s, Elvis Costello>Brian Wilson was the kind of connection you could only find in Trouser Press, especially when it came to Scott Isler, who had the most assured grasp of rock history of any of the regular writers. Ironically, as life went on, I ended up spending far more time listening to the Beach Boys and other surf-related music than I ever did to Elvis Costello. But I'm glad my Costello fixation led me to a completely unexpected place thanks to the review in this issue.

***

This might be my final scan of a Trouser Press magazine. About a year ago, the mag's founder wrote to me and thanked me for doing my earlier scans, but he also mentioned they were in the process of scanning all the issues. Since none ever appeared on their Web site, I assumed this project never came to pass. But when I was researching this issue, I noticed there was a scan of it is out on the Trouser Press Facebook page --- along with lots of others. So that kind of makes my work here redundant.

I will say that the my scans are bigger and therefore of higher quality. But for all I know they reduced their scans for Facebook and will put them out at some point in high-quality on their Web site. Either way, re-reading all these old issues has been an enjoyable journey back into the past -- both theirs and mine.

Other scanned issues of Trouser Press:
Trouser Press - Issue #09 (June-Aug. 1975)
Trouser Press - Issue #42 (Sept. 1979)
Trouser Press - Issue #44 (Nov. 1979)
Trouser Press - Issue #59 (Feb. 1981) 
Trouser Press - Issue #63 (July 1981)
Trouser Press - Issue #67 (Nov. 1981)
Trouser Press - Issue #70 (Feb. 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #71 (March 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #79 (Nov. 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #72 (April 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #84 (April 1983)
Trouser Press - Issue #85 (May 1983)
Trouser Press - Issue #92-93 (Dec. 1983-Jan. 1984)
Trouser Press - Issue #95 (March 1984)

Contents:
1. Marshall Crenshaw
2. Laurie Anderson
3. Stray Cats
4. A Flock Of Seagulls
5. Kim Wilde
6. The Who
7. Jethro Tull
8. German Rock

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

June Christy - Something Cool (1954; 1991 Edition)


Things could get pretty weird back in the days when record companies first started reissuing CDs of older music. We got the first four Beatles albums in mono only. We got Fleetwood Mac's double-disc Tusk crammed onto one CD with an edited version of "Sara" and some alternate mixes. And we got this first reissue of "cool jazz" singer June Christy's first-ever release, Something Cool, in a form that was unrecognizable from the original EP.

Unlike those first three examples, this one had its positive elements, the main one being that it included a whopping seventeen bonus tracks in addition to that seven-song EP. But it had its drawbacks as well. 

For starters, they used the wrong cover art. The original 1954 EP and the expanded 1956 LP version (which had four additional songs) had a black-and-white image of Christy laughing with her eyes closed, which is shaded in blue (see right). Four years later, in 1960, Christy and arranger Pete Rugolo recut the album in stereo, and this edition used the color image of Christy smiling and looking at the camera (above) that adorns the CD cover. So, the CD's image is from the stereo album but the songs are actually a different and earlier set of mono recordings.

More importantly, to create this CD they took the songs from the original seven-track EP and splayed them totally out of sequence among all the bonus tracks. It was great to get these extra tracks since all of 'em made their CD debut on this release, but why the juggling of the song order?

The original EP sequence was:
1. Something Cool
2. It Could Happen To You
3. Lonely House
4. Midnight Sun
5. I'll Take Romance
6. A Stranger Call The Blues
7. I Should Care

Compare this with the CD's track list below. This reissue places the above songs at #5, #10, #8, #7, #13, #12, and #9. What is the point in that? Why not just put the EP songs first, followed by the additional tracks? When the EP was expanded into an LP in '56 they followed the song order pretty closely, so it would have made sense to do the same on the CD.

Needless to say, this original Something Cool CD went out of print when CD reissues began to reflect the contents of original LPs more accurately. It was soon superseded by a more organized edition that had had the full 1956 mono LP followed by the full 1960 stereo remake. But what listeners gained in continuity they lost in bonus songs, since the second edition of this CD had none.

Christy died the year before the 1991 reissue, and you wonder if she had been alive and well if she'd have wanted some say in the matter. Something Cool, after all, was her best known work and it definitely holds up after all these decades. Rugolo's orchestration is gorgeous in an understated way, and Christy's vocals never fail to hypnotize.

When she made her debut with this EP, Christy seemed bound for glory. But she was brushed aside when rock'n'roll hit the music scene around the same time. She was also said to have developed a problem with alcohol early on, and this further put her career on the slow track. Christy also wasn't the most "vocal" of vocal singers. What I mean by that is that she didn't really wail or shout, so she wasn't about to compete with the Elvises of the world -- or the Rosemary Clooneys, for that matter.

But what Christy did, she did really, really well. Specifically, she sang in a mellow, reflective, and often wistful style with lots of subtlety and nuance. Her voice could be so cleverly subtle, in fact, that you can listen to her version of "Whee Baby" (co-written and originally done by Peggy Lee) and hear sadness in it one day but get bemused sarcasm from it on another day.

It's things like that which make this early CD edition of Something Cool so, er, cool. Some of the bonus cuts are as good as anything on the EP. First among these is the fantastic yet little-known Mel Tormé song called "The First Thing You Know You're in Love," which Christy released as a single in 1954. Two other first-rate cuts are "You're Makin' Me Crazy" and "Why Do You Have To Go Home," which made up both sides of a 1953 single. This CD also has a pair of songs that went unreleased in their day: The gorgeously melodic "Out Of Somewhere" and the jazzy "Love Doesn't Live Here Anymore."

And then there are the four tracks that were added to the seven-song EP to create the eleven-song LP. They are: "Softly, As in a Morning Sunrise," "I'm Thrilled," "This Time the Dream's on Me," and "The Night We Called It A Day." None of these strike me as particularly inspired (especially the last, which Sinatra made his own on Where Are You?), but it's still worth hearing Christy sing them.

If all of these extra tracks seem confusing, check the MP3 tags, where I included release dates and info on where each song was originally from. Most of the bonus tracks are non-LP 45 sides, but it turns out a bunch are from Christy's 1958 album This Is June Christy! And speaking of confusion, some places on the Web list the original EP as being from 1955. It's not. It's from '54 and I dug up a Billboard album chart from Oct. 2, 1954 (above) to prove it.

So, in all, the original Something Cool CD had an interesting blend of songs, even if the way they were placed now seems strange. Like the Rosemary Clooney album I recently posted, I bought this one on tape at the time and re-bought it on CD when I found it used, which means I liked it enough to buy it twice. So maybe those unpredictable Wild West days of CD reissues weren't all so bad. We might have had to put up with early Fab Four in mono and such, but we got all these bonus tracks instead of having to track down the super-rare old 45s. Whee baby.

Track list:
1. Not I
2. Whee Baby
3. Why Do You Have To Go Home
4. You're Makin' Me Crazy
5. Something Cool
6. Magazines
7. Midnight Sun
8. Lonely House
9. I Should Care
10. It Could Happen To You
11. The First Thing You Know You're in Love
12. A Stranger Called The Blues
13. I'll Take Romance
14. Look Out Up There
15. Softly, As in a Morning Sunrise
16. Out Of Somewhere
17. Love Doesn't Live Here Anymore
18. I'm Thrilled
19. This Time The Dream's On Me
20. The Night We Called It A Day
21. Thrilled
22. Pete Kelly's Blues
23. Until The Real Thing Comes Along
24 I Never Wanna Look into Those Eyes Again

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Trouser Press - Issue #79 (Nov. 1982)


It's been almost a year since I posted an issue of my favorite rock magazine ever, Trouser Press. So here's a new scan of one that I think is a classic. It's from late 1982 and has features on the Go-Go's, Richard Hell, X, Paul Carrack, Thomas Dolby, and the Motels among others.

As interesting as these features are, they're not the reason I decided to post about Trouser Press again all this time later. What inspired me to dig out this extra-large issue is that it contains a review of an obscure album called (get this) Whichever Way You Are Going, You Are Going Wrong by the experimental cult group Woo.

Something put that title in my head recently. Maybe seeing "Wrong Way" signs on roads? Whatever it was, I finally decided to search out this record. Yes, I know it's been 35 years since the record came out. I do things at my own pace, people.

Reading the review again, it turned out that the writer, Alec Ross, was completely on the mark. The album is interesting but the ideas could have been executed better. The title track is fantastic, and I wish the whole album had been on that level. Ross' advice was for people to limit their listening to a single track at a time, and that still stands. (As an aside, I'll add that Woo's followup album from 1990, Into the Heart of Love, is a first-rate effort with much better melodies and atmospherics and is now considered a classic.)

Beyond the Woo review, this issue is noteworthy because it contains some new features like a question and answer column and record and video charts, both of which are mentioned at the magazine's Web site. Also, the articles on X, the Motels, and the Richard Hell were a harbinger of things to come. In its final years, Trouser Press would move away from covering British rock and become the top national source of information for American indie acts (which were then called "alternative" artists, a designation that connotes something different than the "alternative rock" genre that became popular in the 1990s).

This issue also has one of artist Pete Frame's "rock family trees." This one explores the roots of The Police. Since the artist's rendering was divided horizontally across two pages (34 and 35), it would not have worked to include an individual scan of each page, because the parts of the page where the magazine was stapled together would have been unreadable. What I did instead was to take the scans of pages 34 and 35 and edit them together into a single scan that can be easily read. Unfortunately, that left page 35 blank. So, to ensure the continuity of the page count, I put that scan in both pages 34 and 35, vertically and horizontally.

It's funny how time changes your perspective on things. When I first read this issue, the Go-Go's and the Motels were tearing up the record charts and I remember being excited to find in-depth articles about them. But all these years later, I'm more impressed with the fact that TP was covering Richard Hell and X when few others were giving these underground acts the time of day. The review section is also definitely worth reading, with coverage of albums by Joe Jackson, Bill Nelson, Steve Winwood, and Lords of the New Church. And the opening line of Jon Young's lead review of remix albums by The League Unlimited Orchestra and Soft Cell is classic. It still pops into my head whenever I come across any remix collection.

My only question is: What was the commercial music magazine Hit Parader thinking when they bought an ad in this issue? "Hey kids! If all this weird Trouser Press music like Woo is too much for you to handle, come on over to our side, where we have good old REO Speedwagon!" At the time, teens who liked alternative music like X defined themselves against bands like REO (who are pictured in the ad, at right), so this advertisement was unlikely to spark the interest of TP readers in either the mag or the artists it covered. That said, I'm glad Hit Parader bought the ad, because in doing so they helped keep Trouser Press alive. Had more businesses advertised, perhaps TP wouldn't have shuttered in mid-1984. As for Hit Parader, I will say that in the 35 years that have gone by, I've come to appreciate some of the mainstream music they covered in the 1980s. But not REO...except for maybe for that big hit they had in early 1985.

Other scanned issues of Trouser Press:
Trouser Press - Issue #09 (June-Aug. 1975)
Trouser Press - Issue #42 (Sept. 1979)
Trouser Press - Issue #44 (Nov. 1979)
Trouser Press - Issue #59 (Feb. 1981) 
Trouser Press - Issue #63 (July 1981)
Trouser Press - Issue #67 (Nov. 1981)
Trouser Press - Issue #70 (Feb. 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #71 (March 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #72 (April 1982)
Trouser Press - Issue #84 (April 1983)
Trouser Press - Issue #85 (May 1983)
Trouser Press - Issue #92-93 (Dec. 1983-Jan. 1984)
Trouser Press - Issue #95 (March 1984)

Contents:
1. Paul Carrack
2. Billy Idol
3. Richard Hell
4. Thomas Dolby
5. Motels
6. Go-Go's
7. Sparks
8. X
9. Police Tree
10. Rock On TV

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Becker and Fagen - Early Demos and More (1969-81)


This is, as far as I know, the complete set of circulating demos by Steely Dan members Donald Fagen and the late Walter Becker. Notice I said "circulating." I don't have ones like "Oh, Mr. Lyle" or "Be Tender," which have never seen the light of day.

What I did was take the Sun Mountain bootleg (pictured) and use that as the basis for a set of thirty-four rarities. I went with Sun Mountain because it arranges the songs in a roughly chronological order. After that, I added in other demos and a few rarities, some of which are by other artists. Bitrates vary, but it all cases they represent the best sounding versions of these tracks that I could find. There is no point in listening to something @320 if it sound like mud.

Speaking of sound, the tracks you'll find here are the original recordings without any tampering. At some point, someone overdubbed modern-day synthesizers on some of these tracks. Those recordings were put on YouTube and are now being taken for the real thing. They're not. When these recordings were made, synthesized strings were not the norm. Neither were drum machine sounds. None of those sounds are heard on these recordings. These are the unadorned demos.

I also tried to figure out when they were recorded, because I get fanatical about chronology. I couldn't find exact dates, so some of the MP3 tags are not dated. The info I did use was taken from various Steely Dan books like Brian Sweet's "Steely Dan: Reelin' In The Years." But while I was doing research, I came across something completely unexpected: Records of Becker and Fagen's copyright registrations for these songs (see right). Because of this, I was able to make the titles on this set accurate as to what the composers intended them to be. So, for example, "Come Back, Baby" gets a comma (nice to know they cared about grammar) and "Oh Wow It's You" is actually titled "Oh Wow, It's You Again." "Barry Town" is two words. Who knew?

Anyway, it turns out that these songs weren't submitted for copyright until early 1973, so it's impossible to get exact recording dates from the Catalog of Copyright Entries. But at least I was able to get accurate song tile info. So there's that.

What we do know is that there are 28 songs in circulation with two additional alternate versions, making for a grand total of 30 unreleased recordings. Most of 'em are not only good, but great. I read an article once where Becker said his son wasn't much of a Steely Dan fan, but after he came across a bootleg heard "Android Warehouse," he finally thought his dad's music was pretty cool. My own story isn't so different.

Growing up, I was never a Steely Dan fan beyond the popular tunes like "Deacon Blues" and "My Old School." I came of age in the new wave era and had a thing for old '60s music, so Steely Dan's music was always too "glossy" to reach me emotionally. I heard a sound, not a feeling.

But my ex-wife was really into them and one day she stumbled upon a bootleg that had an early version of "Brooklyn." This sounded much better to me than the released version and I heard a Bob Dylan influence (specifically a connection with "Queen Jane Approximately") that I liked. Then she found the Sun Mountain bootleg that started with "You Go Where I Go," a rough demo in the style of Laura Nyro and Carole King that had only electric piano and Donald Fagen's voice. Of all things, this was the song that hooked me. I finally "got" Steely Dan. This song, and others like it, drew me in on a deeper level. I heard a feeling, not a sound.

Listening to these demos the first time, it occurred to me Steely Dan weren't a classic rock band in the standard sense. They might have used guitars a lot, but they weren't a guitar rock group. Instead, they were a group built upon keyboard-styled songs that cleverly covered up that conceit with scads of virtuoso instrumentation. After I realized this, I was able to hear tracks like "Bad Sneakers" and "Pearl of the Quarter" with new ears. It was then I became such a fanatic that when Walter Becker died last week, I was the first one my ex-wife called because she associated me so strongly with the group.

I've probably listened to these demos more than I listened to Steely Dan itself -- which is saying something because I've listened to the group a lot. Despite the rough performances, I think there are scads of great songs here that still come through loud and clear. The ones marked "demo" made it onto the official albums. Several are sung by an outside singer named Keith Thomas, and those are connoted in the tags. One, "Don't Let Me In," became a minor hit for the group Sneaker in 1981 (exact chart info is in the tag). This version was produced by Steely Dan album Skunk Baxter. I included it as part of the "And More" category.

Speaking of which, one song, "I Mean To Shine," has never surfaced in demo form but was covered by Barbra Streisand. Streisand apparently got it after it was done first by another singer whose album never came out. "Sail The Waterway" and "Dallas" are the sides of the first Steely Dan single which was recalled and not put on the box set because Becker and Fagen were unhappy with it.

With Walter Becker's death, it's doubtful these demos and obscurities will ever surface since his remarks about his son seem to be the closest any band member has come to praising this material. Whatever the case, there is no denying the catchiness of songs like "Old Regime" and "Soul Ram" (which contains the phrase "steely dan") nor the emotional draw of ballads like "You Go Where I Go"or "This Seat's Been Taken."

Which leads me to my final point. Steely Dan were perfectionists in the realm of sonics, and it's said that the unprofessional sound of these recordings is the reason they'll never get an official release. But is it? I wonder if it's the naked emotions of some of these songs that made the composers think twice about them. Ironic and wry observations were what Steely Dan was about. A lot of the tension in the group's music came from what they didn't reveal.

In that light, the most un-Steely Dan song here is "A Little With Sugar," which has a lyric in which a grown man ruefully recounts his mother leaving the family when he was a boy. That's actually what happened in Becker's life. That's also the kind of autobiographical detail you'd never get in an official Steely Dan song. Which is why a lot of these demos make for such compelling listening.

Track list:
1. You Go Where I Go
2. A Little With Sugar
3. The Roaring Of The Lamb
4. Charlie Freak [demo]
5. Sun Mountain
6. Oh Wow, It's You Again
7. Undecided
8. The Caves Of Altamira [demo]
9. Any World (That I'm Welcome To) [demo]
10. More To Come
11. Parker's Band [demo]
12. Barry Town [demo]
13. The Braintap Shuffle
14. Brooklyn [demo]
15. The Mock Turtle's Song
16. The Yellow Peril
17. Android Warehouse
18. A Horse In Town
19. Ida Lee
20. Stone Piano
21. Take It Out On Me
22. This Seat's Been Taken
23. Come Back, Baby
24. Don't Let Me In
25. The Old Regime
26. Soul Ram
27. I Can't Function
28. Let George Do It
29. Sun Mountain [alternate version]
30. Stone Piano [alternate version]
31. Steely Dan - Sail The Waterway
32. Steely Dan - Dallas
33. Barbra Streisand - I Mean To Shine
34. Sneaker - Don't Let Me In

Monday, September 4, 2017

Rosemary Clooney - Girl Singer (1992)


As with Frank Sinatra, Rosemary Clooney released a surprisingly great album just when everyone thought the best definitely was not yet to come (to paraphrase a song covered here). For Old Blue Eyes, his unexpected flash of brilliance was the 1981 effort She Shot Me Down, which turned out to be his last great effort. But in Clooney's case, this album, Girl Singer, helped kick of a late-career renaissance.

If you were tuned into jazz-oriented radio stations in 1992, as I was, you definitely heard parts of this record. But unlike other recent Clooney efforts of the time, this one didn't just feature the standards she was so good at interpreting. It had a new-ish song in David Frishberg gorgeous ballad "Sweet Kentucky Ham," and this was the song that got the most radio play.

Despite its eccentric title, "Sweet Kentucky Ham" is a ballad about loneliness, specifically feeling isolated while on the road. But that description doesn't really do it justice. The tune is a marriage of words and music that evokes a realistic feeling of wistfulness. I remember the first time I heard this on a long-defunct "music of your life" station and it stopped me in my tracks. This is what inspired me to buy this album (which now looks to be out-of-print).

I wasn't disappointed. At this point in her career, Clooney's style was so well-honed that she could bring even the most familiar old songs to life again. In fact, I prefer the way she sang at this late stage in her career over her vocals in the 1950s and 1960s. If all you've heard of her are records like "Come On-A My House" and "Mambo Italiano," you really ought to give this a listen. You be surprised at the way she evolved musically..

Even though a lot of the titles here will be familiar to anyone who owns a Sinatra or Bennett record or two, they're given treatments that make them worth hearing again. I like her rendition of "Autumn In New York" better that Sinatra's, and I'm saying that as a longtime Sinatra fanatic. The arrangements are mostly by John Oddo (who has worked with Linda Eder, among others) and deftly move between big band, bossa nova, and easy listening.

When I first bought this album 25 years ago, I bought it on cassette, since I liked to listen to music in my car and that only had cassette deck. I eventually re-bought it on CD and when I looked over both editions, I noticed that the cassette is missing one of the songs, "Of Course It's Crazy." So if you also bought the cassette, you get a bonus here.

The album, obviously, sounds a whole lot better on CD. It also looks better, with full credits for the musicians and succinct but heartfelt liner notes by Linda Ronstadt, who is a Clooney fan herself.

Related posts:
Frank Sinatra - In the Wee Small Hours (1955; 1998 UK Remaster)
Astrud Gilberto - Rarities (1966-72)
Astrud Gilberto - Astrud Gilberto Now (1972)
Joyce - Language and Love (1991)

Track list:
1. Nice 'N' Easy
2. Sweet Kentucky Ham
3. Autumn In New York
4. Miss Otis Regrets
5. Let There Be Love
6. Lovers After All
7. From This Moment On
8. More Than You Know
9. Wave
10. We Fell In Love Anyway
11. Ellington Medley
      a). It Don't Mean A Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing)
      b). I'm Checking Out (Goombye)
12. Of Course It's Crazy
13. Straighten Up And Fly Right
14. The Best Is Yet To Come

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Peggy March - Alle Frauen Wollen Nur Das Eine... (1993)


There's a new collection of vintage Peggy March music that came out in July, If You Loved Me - RCA Recordings From Around the World (1963-1969), so I thought I share an out-of-print rarity of hers along with some of my thoughts on her music.

If you only know March from her chart-topping 1963 song "I Will Follow Him" or her second biggest hit, "I Wish I Were A Princess," you might think she's one of those early '60s singers whose big draw was her novelty appeal. After all, these records have silly, eccentric qualities and she cut them at a young age (March still holds the record of being the youngest artist ever to score a #1 hit). Heck, she even went by the moniker Little Peggy March back then.

For years I paid no mind to her music because I'd burned out on "I Will Follow Him" by hearing it too many times on oldies radio. But then one day out of curiosity I decided to look into her music. I figured that I'd already dug deep into the work of Shelley Fabares, Dodie Stevens, Marcie Blane, Janie Grant, Diane Ray, Donna Lynn, and even Noreen Corcoran, so why not Little Peggy March? To my surprise, I discovered that March was no novelty act but a truly great singer. Her vocal chops far exceed what's heard on her best-known tracks. Had any of her post-1965 singles managed to find favor with U.S. audiences, she might have been considered among the best American pop vocalists by the dawn of the 1970s.

My evidence for this? Exhibit A is the soulful, soaring vocal on her 1965 single "Losin' My Touch." Let's make Exhibit B her smooth, sultry take on the complicated Burt Bacharach-Hal David ballad "Try To See It My Way" from '66. Exhibit C is her raucous take on the vocal version of Raymond Lefèvre's instrumental hit "Ame Caline (Soul Coaxing)" (#37 in 1968), which she cut under the title "If You Loved Me."

All of these recordings can be heard on the aforementioned new CD. Unfortunately, none of them charted in the U.S. and March's failure to connect with domestic audiences is what led her and her manager/husband to relocate to Germany, where she became a big star in the '60s and '70s. Which brings us to this CD.

Alle Frauen Wollen Nur Das Eine... translates into English as "Women Just Want One Thing," at least according to what comes up in Windows Media Player. It's a dance music album and the style is sort of European electro-pop. It was cut long after March's heyday in Germany so it doesn't sound much like the music from her classic period. The sound is actually more a continuation of the disco records she made in the late '70s like Electrifying.

There are, however, a few remakes of her older songs, like 1965's "Mit 17 Hat Man Noch Träume" (cut under the title "Heaven For Lovers" in the States), and "Memories Of Heidelberg" from 1967. She also redoes her 1969 single "In Der Carnaby Street" as "Carnaby Street." The first of these can be found on the 1994 CD Best Selection, but the others haven't come out in the U.S. as far as I know.

That leads to another issue. As good as it is to hear rare cuts like March's cover of the Beach Boys' "Aren't You Glad" on If You Loved Me - RCA Recordings From Around the World (1963-1969), someone really needs to put out a CD containing her rare non-LP B-sides and essential German hits. This would be a good home for those aforementioned tracks that never got a U.S. release.

As for Alle Frauen Wollen Nur Das Eine..., it's not the best Peggy March album you'll ever hear, but if you like her singing, you'll find something to enjoy. Plus, it provides an excellent gateway into getting into her foreign-language records, which were often better than her English ones. Her voice was so strong that she was equally as good singing in German or Japanese as she was in English. Heck, I prefer her Japanese rendition of "Losin' My Touch" to the English version.

Before I sign off, I want to make one small point that's going to be way out of character for this blog, since I tend to focus on music and avoid the, er, personal side of things. My point is: Has anyone seen photos of what Peggy March grew up to look like after she dropped the "Little" from her name? She left behind her old-fashioned schoolgirl look (see left) and blossomed into perhaps the most out-and-out sexy female singer of the time (see photos below). And by sexy I don't mean merely "she looked good for her era." I mean she was Playboy magazine-type hot. Her photos from the late '60s and '70s have an overt eroticism that's still head-turning today. Even on the cover of this CD she looks super-fine and she was in her mid-forties by then. (By the way, when I speak of Playboy, I mean the magazine back when it featured photos of natural wonders like Jill Taylor, not those angry-looking silicon fembots pictured in there today.)

Why America chose to not make a star out of a woman who was both a great singer and total babe is anyone's guess. For whatever reasons, the public instead preferred Nancy Sinatra, Mama Cass, Cher, or that woman in Spanky and Our Gang who sounded more like your mom singing along with the car radio than an actual singer. In my opinion, March could out-sing them all. That even includes Cass, because March was a more versatile vocalist, plus the tone of March's voice was more pleasant. But whatever. At least all the old music is there if you still want to listen to it. And the old pics are there if you want to look at them. To that end, I did something out of character again and included a photo gallery of Peggy March in her prime years to go along with the music on this album. You're welcome.

Related posts:
Vinnie Monte - Just One Of The Guys (1958-64)
Donna Lynn Meets Robin Clark (1961-65)
Janie Grant Meets Diane Ray - 32 Classic Cuts (1961-64)

Track list:
1. Alle Frauen Wollen Nur Das Eine
2. Zieh Meine Schuhe Aus
3. Küssen Ist Nicht Erlaubt
4. Ich Fall Aus Allen Wolken
5. Mit 17 Hat Man Noch Träume
6. Liebling Träum
7. Das War Noch Nicht Alles
8. Wenn Die Augen Lachen
9. Memories of Heidelberg
10. Verliebter, Verliebter
11. Flieg Mit Mir Zum Regenbogen
12. Carnaby Street

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Joyce - Language and Love (1991)


Brazilian jazz singer Joyce Moreno isn't all that well known in the states, even though she's been releasing music since the late 1960s. I discovered her in the early '90s when she released this album, which looks to be her 13th effort if you include EPs and collaborative works.

So why was I so late to the party? The main reason is that there really wasn't much of a way to hear international jazz in the pre-Internet era, at least not if you were in a suburban town. I might have missed this music completely if the Washington DC metro area, where I was living, hadn't briefly been home to a commercial radio station that played jazz. The station was WJZE, more commonly known as "Jazzy 100" since it was located at 100.3 on the FM dial. It opened the ears of DC people to music like Michael Franks, Basia, David Benoit... and Joyce.

For a brief while in late 1991, WJZE played two songs from this album constantly: The moody, melodic opening number "Caymmis," and the boppy story-song "Taxi Driver." These songs impressed me enough that I called the station to find out who exactly was singing them. Once I found out, I went to look for the CD. The local Sam Goody didn't have it in stock, what with all the Guns 'N Roses taking up space (nothing against Guns 'N Roses, but there needs to be variety). So, I took a drive into DC where I was able to finally track the disc down at Tower Records.

I wasn't disappointed. Joyce is an excellent singer with a clear, expressive voice. Besides the aforementioned songs, there are some great ballads here, especially the title track and "Two or Three Things (Duas Ou Tres Coisas)." There's something about these kind of Latin ballads that seem to alter the mood of the whole room when you play them.

Now the weird part: Something made me think of this CD, so I pulled it out and when I learned it was out of print, decided to do some research. It turns out that Joyce was just in the DC area a few days ago playing a series of gigs at Blues Alley. So, I missed seeing her by days. Darn. But she still has one US date left as of this writing, so if you're in or around Tarrytown, New York you can catch her on Sunday, Aug. 27, 4 p.m., at Jazz Forum Arts.

Related posts:
Astrud Gilberto - Rarities (1966-72)
Astrud Gilberto - Astrud Gilberto Now (1972)

Track list:
1. Caymmis
2. Language and Love
3. Taxi Driver
4. Chansong
5. Two or Three Things (Duas Ou Tres Coisas)
6. Na Casa Do Campeão (Champion's Place)
7. Bailarina
8. Desafinada
9. Chica-Chica Boom Chic
10. Arrebenta (Bursting)

Saturday, August 19, 2017

Debbie Gibson - Live at Wembley '89 (1989)


Exactly 28 years ago today, on Aug. 19, 1989, Debbie Gibson played one of her biggest shows ever when she performed at Wembley Stadium in England to 77,000 people, according to the Guardian. Gibson, who was 18 at the time, was the opening act for the then-popular British duo Bros -- a dance-pop act whose UK success didn't translate to the United States when they opened for Gibson earlier in the year as part of her Electric Youth tour.

The audio from this concert survives in good quality, which is great news for Debheads who can't get enough of her during her early days. Unlike the poor-quality audience recordings of her live shows from this era (one of which I put out recently), this concert was taped from a broadcast, so it was recorded and mixed professionally. I was luckily enough to come into possession of a copy of it when a reader of this blog, Scott From Australia, passed it along. I performed some technical fixes on it (see the info below) and am happy to present it online for the first time.

In researching this concert online, I found that not only hadn't Gibson's set been circulated online before, but there is precious little information about participation in it at all. For example, I couldn't find any photos of Gibson from the day of the show. The only way I was able to design a "cover" was by taking a screenshot from an old video that was filmed by a stationary camera apparently owned by one of the musicians in Gibson's band at the time.

I also learned that the date for this concert has been listed erroneously as Aug. 8, 1989. The actual date was Aug. 19, 1989. This can be confirmed surviving artifacts such as the concert poster (above right) and the insert from UK single of Gibson's "We Could Be Together," which advertised the gig (left). Finally, the video I linked above has a date stamp that reads "8 19 89." I find it both amusing and depressing that there's endless concert info online for acts from the '60s and '70s, but precious little info on Gibson's gigs, which were far more recent.

At least Radio One was there to document Gibson's participation, as can be heard in the interviews that bookend this recording. The opening interview has Gibson talking about her musical influences and how she got started in the music business. The interview is broken up with airings of some of her favorite old songs and I included them in full here, so as not to ruin the integrity of the broadcast. The closing segment has her talking about how the gig went. It's amusing now to hear her speak in a Long Island accent, something she's long since lost.

In between, we get a pretty exciting show. Gibson performs nine numbers (including a medley), which constitutes an abridged version of her stage act during this period. But that said, she exudes an authority in this performances that she didn't have at her concerts the previous year on her Out Of The Blue tour. Back then, she was an upstart entertainer with a set that mostly consisted of songs from her first album. But by August of 1989, Gibson had racked up so many hit songs that she could do practically an entire set featuring only her charting songs. This is an impressive accomplishment for anyone in the music business, but more so for Gibson, who wouldn't turn 19 until 13 days after this concert.

The crowd might have been there for Bros, but they're definitely into her, even chanting "Debbie! Debbie!" at the end of "Only In My Dreams." Her vocals aren't as precise as they usually are, but they're still pretty great considering this was an outdoor gig before a massive audience. As I noted in a previous post about Debbie Gibson, she had theatrical training and is an excellent live vocalist. That's even more impressive when judging by the standards of today's Auto-Tuned pop acts, because here she had no vocal safety net.

Gibson's hits might be overly familiar to anyone into '80s music, but the versions here have a lot to offer because they aren't rote recitations of the records. Some, like "Foolish Beat" and "Only In My Dreams," have introductions specially arranged for the stage. This is something Gibson regularly did, and it adds a surprise element to the tunes. In fact, these re-arrangements seem to work even better now than it did then, since we've become overly familiar with these songs over the years.

"Shake Your Love," meanwhile, gets an extended workout -- another Gibson concert tradition from back in the day. Gibson really pushes her voice to the limit during the second half of this number, where she goes toe-to-toe (or is it voice-to-voice?) with her backup vocalists. Unfortunately, she also included rap sections into her concerts and the one that turns up here is especially silly. Let's just say that as a rapper, Gibson made a really great piano player. Still, her overall performance would give any entertainer a run for their money, energy-wise.

Besides the hits, there's a medley of old Motown songs that ends with a rendition of Sly & The Family Stone's "Dance To The Music." Gibson apparently enjoyed doing medleys of her favorite songs and performed one of Billy Joel songs at the June 8, 1991 "Acoustic Live" show, which I previously posted. Her roll call of classic Motown songs here isn't that smooth, rhythmically speaking. But, as I noted in that earlier post, she definitely can sing live, and she sings the hell out of these old chestnuts.

The high point is the rousing rendition of one of Gibson's best songs, "We Could Be Together," a '60s-styled pop-rocker that has a somewhat covert message about interracial romance.* This song holds the unfortunate distinction of being Gibson's first flop single in the United States, bombing out at #72. This was a bad omen. Gibson would only crack the U.S. Top 40 one more time, so at this concert, she was as popular as she was ever going to get. But in England, "We Could Be Together" was at least a decent-sized hit, getting to #22, and the audience seems to love Gibson's extended rendition of it here. But the Brits always did have great taste in pop music, didn't they?

Technical notes

Since my post about how to do clean vinyl rips went over so big, I'm going to chime in with info about how I do what I do when the occasion warrants. I didn't have to do that much to make this concert presentable, but it still took some work.

For one thing, the EQ needed to be reconsidered. Like the Acoustic Live show, the recording that survived had lots of bass but very little treble. So I figured out which frequencies needed to be lowered or boosted and altered them accordingly. That gave the sound some zing. I also noticed that there was some phase cancellation, which caused the right channel to sound louder than the left, no matter how much you raised the volume on the left. I remedied this by moving the right channel slightly out of sync with the left. I moved it back by a micro-millisecond. Once I did that, the sound balanced out and the constricted pseudo-mono sound panned into a nice, natural stereo spread.

There was also a speed problem. No, not the drug, but the clip at which the songs ran. When listening to the songs against the originals, I discovered everything ran a bit fast. That was often the case when people recorded things on cassette decks in the old days. In this case, that problem was easily corrected by slowing the speed down by three percent. At that rate, it matched the recorded versions. Since Gibson used synthesizers as the basis for her music, it wasn't like the tunings of her songs could "drift," as they sometimes do with guitar bands. The studio recordings worked as a "key anchor" and the tape proved consistently fast, so the fix was simple.

The elements I couldn't clear up were the various audio "pops" and other artifacts that were the inevitable result of recording radio programs on cassette. I tried to remove them manually and it didn't work. Then I tried using ClickRepair, but that just made the problem worse. So I left them. There aren't that many, plus hearing them is reminiscent of listening to old shows and since part of this music's appeal is nostalgia, the extraneous noise actually helps evoke a long-gone era. Now if someone could just get me back the youth I had in the summer of '89, I'd have it all.

Finally, I had mentioned in my "Dozen Tips for Creating Clean Vinyl Rips" post that the best way to convert WAV files to MP3s is by doing them in batches using a freeware program called FormatFactory. It usually is. But when you split up one continuous file, like a live concert, you have to use your sound editing program itself to do the MP3 conversions for each file if you want them to play seamlessly together in a playlist. Using FormatFactory gives you a millisecond or so of extra silence at the end of each file, and this ruins the continuity of the segues.

Related posts (i.e. the largest collection of Debbie Gibson rarities online):
Debbie Gibson - 12-Inch Singles (1986-88)
Debbie Gibson - 'Out of the Blue'-Era 7-Inch Singles: A's and B's (1987-88)
Debbie Gibson - Live At The Concord Pavilion (1988)
Various Artists - The Songs Debbie Gibson Gave Away (1988-92) 
Debbie Gibson - The Alternate Electric Youth (1989)
Debbie Gibson - Rarities (1990-1999)
Debbie Gibson - Acoustic Live (1991) 
Chris Cuevas - Somehow, Someway (1991) 
Deborah Gibson - Memory Lane Volume 1 (2004)
Deborah Gibson - Memory Lane Volume 2 (2005)

Track list:
1. Interview Part 1 - feat. Wham's "Heartbeat"
2. Interview Part 2 - feat. Bill Haley's "Rock Around The Clock"
3. Interview Part 3 - feat. George Michael's "Kissing A Fool"
4. Interview Part 4 - feat. Billy Joel's "Only The Good Die Young"
5. Interview Part 5 - feat. Billy Joel's "Honesty"
6. Interview Part 6 - Debbie Gibson's Music
7. Who Loves Ya Baby?
8. Out Of The Blue
9. Foolish Beat
10. Shake Your Love
11. Lost In Your Eyes
12. Motown Medley/Dance To The Music
   a). I Want You Back
   b). ABC
   c). The Love You Save
   d). Stop! In The Name Of Love
   e). Where Did Our Love Go
   f). Please Mr. Postman
   g). Dance To the Music
13. Only In My Dreams
14. We Could Be Together
15. Electric Youth
16. Radio One Post-Concert Interview

* The lyrics to "We Could Be Together" have been the topic of a lot of Internet forum discussions over the years -- some dating back to as far as two decades ago. The opening couplet "If I were an only child/I would be a lonely child" had some people suggesting that the song had to do with incest. Nice try, but no go. So where did I get the idea that it's about an interracial love affair? The symbolic hand-holding that opens the main section of the video (from :35-:38). This was the MTV era when videos held a lot of significance for both performers and their audience, and that moment didn't get there by accident.

Once you take that into consideration, the lyric starts to make sense. And my opinion is that the "lonely child/only child" couplet is meant to signify different races, meaning that we were all put here together and how insular and boring would it be if we were "only children," racially speaking? Yes, it's clumsy imagery, but Gibson was 16 or 17 when she wrote this, so give her a break. She makes up for it with a catchy-as-hell chorus and two (!) different bridges. What other songwriter includes two distinct bridges in a song? Elvis Costello, maybe? I can't think of one offhand.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Debbie Gibson - Live At The Concord Pavilion (1988)


This is an audience recording of a Debbie Gibson concert from her first tour that took place 29 years ago today, Aug. 5, 1988, at the Concord Pavilion in California.

I've been sitting on it for a while, and was on the fence about posting it at all because the sound quality isn't so hot, which is often the case with fan-made recordings. This one is a low-fi recording to begin with, but the sonics are muddied even further because it's sourced from a second- or third-generation cassette tape.

But with all that in mind, the fan in me still won out over my inner audiophile. Because where else are you going to hear this concert? Nowhere. If it wasn't for the bootleggers, this concert would be lost forever. This is the reason why so many audience recordings have formed the basis of bootleg concert albums. Not all of them sound wonderful, but they're out there because they're now part of history. Same goes with this concert. It might not have the historical significance of the live shows by such '60s bands as the Grateful Dead, but so what? It's all we now have to recall an era that's rapidly fading into the past.

And while it might seem odd to mention Debbie and the Dead in the same paragraph, close listening to this concert reveals they do have one important thing in common. They both sang live without electronic sweetening or Auto-Tune fixes. This is becoming important with the passage of time.

As we move deeper and deeper into the Auto-Tune era, pop stars are being signed by record companies more for their looks and less for their vocal talent. Singing songs live without a net has become a thing of the past, except maybe on those TV shows where singers compete with each other. So even though the Dead jammed and Gibson played commercial pop, their commitment to actually kicking it live -- warts and all -- gives them some common ground, historically speaking.

This concert presents an excellent example of Gibson's commitment to live performance. She's a theatrically-trained singer who has acted on Broadway and belted out songs from the stage with little or no amplification. Here, she's on key about 99 percent of the time, but there's an enjoyably imperfect human element to her vocals, which sometimes come off like an excited teenager racing around the stage -- which she was, being just 17 at the time.

My guess is that one of her teenage fans sneaked a boombox into the concert and slipped it under their chair to tape it. I'm assuming this because the recording captures the audience in glorious stereo but the music in constricted mono. My guess is that the recording device was placed under someone's seat or in another hidden location.

To make the tape more presentable, I did some tweaking of the EQ to bring out the treble frequencies. I also applied some limiting to beef up the sound (cassette recordings are notorious for lacking presence). The first two songs in the second set -- which came after the "tape flip" -- dragged a bit, so I sped them up to the proper pitch. Cassette desks were also notorious for being unreliable when it came to recording and playback speeds.

The 80-minute show is a time capsule of Gibson on her way up. The crowd is extremely vocal, especially when she goes into her then-recent #1 hit "Foolish Beat." Gibson had the audience in the proverbial palm of her hand. But to her credit, she refused to play it safe and pander to her teenybopper audience. Instead she hit 'em with four (count 'em) new songs from her still-to-be-released album Electric Youth, which wouldn't hit stores until five months later in January 1989.

Gibson's 1989 #1 hit "Lost In Your Eyes" is presented here with some variations in the melody that she'd improve upon in the final recording. She mentions that she'd only written the song a short while ago. Wonder how many concert goers remembered it when it was blaring from every Top 40 station on the planet within a few months?

She even breaks out one of the aforementioned new songs as part of the encore, "We Could Be Together." It's a great song (in fact, it's my favorite Gibson single), but its retro melody and rhythm represented a change in her style and it was totally unfamiliar to the crowd. So it took some guts to play it. The next time someone tells you Gibson's music was bubblegum, remember how she led her audience from dance music into '60s-styled pop in this concert.

Gibson closes with a cover of one of her favorite songs, Elton John's "Crocodile Rock," a tune she also did as part of the Acoustic Live show I previously posted. I was never an Elton John fan, so what she sees in this song I don't know. But the crowd seems into it.

In two weeks I'll have a much better sounding Gibson concert that's an even bigger part of history. Thanks to fellow Gibson fanatic Scott From Australia for hooking me up with these super-rare shows, both of which are making their first appearances online here.

Related posts (i.e. the largest collection of Debbie Gibson rarities online):
Debbie Gibson - 12-Inch Singles (1986-88)
Debbie Gibson - 'Out of the Blue'-Era 7-Inch Singles: A's and B's (1987-88)
Various Artists - The Songs Debbie Gibson Gave Away (1988-92) 
Debbie Gibson - The Alternate Electric Youth (1989)
Debbie Gibson - Rarities (1990-1999)
Debbie Gibson - Acoustic Live (1991) 
Chris Cuevas - Somehow, Someway (1991) 
Deborah Gibson - Memory Lane Volume 1 (2004)
Deborah Gibson - Memory Lane Volume 2 (2005)

Track list:
First set:
1. Introduction
2. Staying Together
3. Play the Field
4. Love In Disguise
5. Foolish Beat
6. Red Hot
7. Wake Up To Love
8. Shake Your Love
9. In the Still of the Night

Second set:
10. Lost In Your Eyes
11. Should've Been The One
12. Out Of The Blue
13. Introduction of the Band
14. Only In My Dreams

Encore:
15. Between The Lines
16. We Could Be Together
17. Crocodile Rock

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Grateful Dead FAQ: Chapter 9 - Five Reasons People Hate The Dead (2013)


It's Aug. 1, Jerry Garcia's birthday. Had he not died back on Aug. 9, 1995, he'd have turned 75 today.

To mark the occasion, I'm posting a chapter from the book "Grateful Dead FAQ," which came out a few years ago. The chapter I'm putting out is somewhat irreverent, as it's titled "Five Reasons People Hate the Dead." I'm purposely posting this instead of the kind of stuffy historical "tributes" that Rolling Stone publishes. This is rock music, not church. When people genuflect before the musicians, it ruins the whole thing. I think the humor and attitude of this chapter captures the spirit of what Garcia was all about more than anything you're likely to read in the mainstream press.

Another reason for posting this chapter is that it will hopefully appeal to both Deadheads and non-believers, since it straddles both worlds, thematically speaking. The topic of why some people don't like the Dead is actually pretty funny, even if you love this band. Hell, especially if you love this band. In fact, I'd even say part of their appeal was that only some people "got" them -- much like Beefheart, Zappa, various jazz musicians, etc.

My feeling is that you have to have a sense of humor about this stuff. Every artist has his or her haters. If you've got any sense of objectivity, you should be able to see why, even if you think your favorite artists is the proverbial cat's pajamas. I've mentioned in my Debbie Gibson posts that I can fully understand why people run screaming from her music, even though she appeals to me. So the same goes here. It takes all kinds, and that goes for both Deadheads and Debheads (yes, there is such a thing).

For those who'd like something to listen to while they read, below I've compiled a list of links to rare Grateful Dead music, all of which I've posted on this blog over the years. There may also be a surprise in store for those who read the chapter. Finally, if that chapter whets your appetite for more, you can also buy "Grateful Dead FAQ" by clicking on the link. Since the author was kind enough to bless us with all this out-of-print or hard to find Dead stuff (with more to come soon), I'm giving him props in return.

Grateful Dead posts:
The Grateful Dead - Aoxomoxoa (Original Mix, 1969)
The Grateful Dead - Spirit of '76: Live at the Cow Palace Bonus Disc (2007) 
The Grateful Dead - Days Between: The Final Album That Never Was (1992-95) 

Grateful Dead-related posts:
Mother McCree's Uptown Jug Champions - Live at the Top of the Tangent (1964)
Keith & Donna - Keith & Donna (1975)
Diga Rhythm Band - Diga (1976)
Kingfish - Live 'N' Kickin' (1977)
Robert Hunter - Jack O' Roses (1980) 
Bobby and the Midnites - Featuring Bob Weir (1981)
Brent Mydland - Unreleased Solo Album (1982)
Tom Constanten - Grateful Dreams (2000)

Sunday, July 30, 2017

The Lotus Eaters - Remixes (1983-85)


First off: This is not a collection that I personally put together. And most of the tracks it contains are not my rips. This set of old Lotus Eaters remixes is something I acquired online a long time ago. But since the blog it came from has since disappeared, I thought I'd recirculate it because it's pretty great stuff. (I can't remember the name of the blog that first put this out and Web searches reveal nothing, but if someone wants to step forward in the comments section I'll give credit where it's due.)

I did contribute to this set, however. I improved a few of the rips since I had them in better quality. I also researched release date info and songwriter's credits and included that in the file tags. Most of these recordings were UK-only 12-inch singles that came out on indie labels in the mid-1980s, so this stuff is starting to get lost to history.

But that shouldn't be the case, because a lot of these songs hold up really well today. The Lotus Eaters were a short-lived group that had limited popularity, but they made a lot of excellent music in just a few years. Funny enough, I never heard the group on the radio during its heyday in 1983 and 1984. Instead, I discovered them several years later after buying a $1 bargain bin Ronco Records cassette tape called Chart Trek 1 (see right), which was subtitled "To Boldly Pick the Stars of '84." It turned out that Ronco was correct in their picking some of those stars (Wham!, Thompson Twins), but not so right about others (Care, the Danse Society, Marilyn).

I'd bought the tape for the song "Never Never," which was a minor college radio hit by another group that quickly came and went, the Assembly. But what grabbed my attention instead was the tune by the Lotus Eaters, "First Picture Of You," which had a glittering, effervescent quality that seemed emblematic of the optimistic mid-'80s. (Well, at least my own private mid-'80s. Dunno what yours was like. Mine was great. But I digress.)

Eventually, I tracked down the Lotus Eaters' lone LP from 1984, No Sense Of Sin. It did not disappoint. The Liverpool-based group's two main writers, Peter Coyle and Jeremy "Jem" Kelly, had a knack for writing pop tunes that were tailor-made for the synth-pop genre of the day (as opposed to other groups, who sounded like they were shoehorning standard rock ideas into synthesizer-based arrangements).

Since most of the songs here are from that album, they range from good to great. The opening track, "Out On Your Own," lengthens the original LP cut by almost two minutes but actually works better that way. The extra time gives the synth riff that drives the song room more to expand. When you've got a great riff, flaunt it.

"Can You Keep A Secret," which was another highlight of No Sense Of Sin, gets an expanded introduction. Some research indicates that this was the way it was presented on the original pressings of the album and the now-common three-minute edit replaced it on later editions. As with Duran Duran and others, the Lotus Eaters had more than one version of an album released after they'd had a bit of success and their record company reworked the track list in order to better appeal to commercially-oriented teen listeners.

Finally, three of the tunes here are songs that weren't on the original album at all. "It Hurts (There Must Be A Taste Of Murder In It) (12-Inch Version)" was the A-Side of a non-LP 12-inch single. "My Happy Dream (Long Version)" was the B-Side of the "Set Me Apart" 12-inch and "You Don't Need Someone New (Charleston Mix)" is a special mix which appeared on the B-Side of the 12-inch single of the same name.

The above titles might be familiar to hardcore fans, but these versions won't be. These specific mixes are not the same ones that appear as bonus cuts on the expanded CD reissue of No Sense Of Sin. All are exclusive to the 12-inch singles...and now to this collection.

Related posts:
Various Artists - Sharp Cuts (1980)
Nina Schultz - Nina Schulta (1982 EP)
Color Me Gone - Color Me Gone (1984)
Marshall Crenshaw - U.S. Remix (1984)
Tommy Keene - Places That Are Gone (1984)
Growing Up Different - A+B=C (1985)
Marti Jones: Unsophisticated Time (1985)

Track list:
1. Out On Your Own (Extended Version)
2. The First Picture Of You (12-Inch Version)
3. German Girl (Long Version)
4. It Hurts (There Must Be A Taste Of Murder In It) (12-Inch Version)
5. Love Still Flows (Extended Mix)
6. You Fill Me With Need (Remix)
7. My Happy Dream (Long Version)
8. Set Me Apart (Full Length Original Version)
9. Can You Keep A Secret (Long Version)
10. You Don't Need Someone New (Charleston Mix)

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Nico - The Peel Sessions (1988; Recorded 1971)


From the looks of things, this is out of print, at least on CD. A vinyl version came out a short while back, but since modern-day vinyl is cut using digital files (as opposed to old analog tapes), you might as well just listen to the CD.

These four songs are from Nico's visit to John Peel's BBC1 radio show on Feb. 2, 1971. They were broadcast a few weeks later, on Feb. 20, 1971, but weren't officially released until 1988 -- the year Nico died. I have no idea if this release preceded her death on July 18 of that year, or if it was put out to commemorate her.

But whatever the case, these recordings are an excellent testament to her legacy. They all feature Nico performing her own compositions with just her harmonium for accompaniment -- the way she sometimes performed in concert.

If you only know Nico from the Velvet Underground or from her first album, Chelsea Girl, you might be taken aback by this music. On those albums, she sang other people's songs and it (mostly) fell into the category of pop music. This music is from when she started writing her own songs. She composed music in an old world Gothic European style and it was a whole 'nother thing. If Lou Reed's Velvet Underground songs were cutting edge, then Nico's tunes were completely over-the-edge...and then some.

But if you're a Nico fan, you're in for a treat. All of these recordings are first-rate, performance wise. Nico was definitely "on" when they were recorded, and they come across as more intimate and personal than the recordings on her albums.

The best example is the lead-off track, "Secret Side," the only song that was unreleased at the time of these recordings. Shorn of the ghost-like sound effects that John Cale added when it was recorded for Nico's 1974 album The End..., this unadorned version reveals the beauty of Nico's melody and the intensity of her singing. The song purportedly deals with Nico's rape by an American soldier when she was a teenager, but the lyric was largely obscured on the album by Cale's relentless swirling synth sounds. Here, Nico's vocals have no place to hide, and the song hits that much harder.

I've long held a theory is that in a lot of ways Nico was the real Lou Reed. What I mean by that is that a lot of Reed's reputation was built on his penchant for experimentation. But that was mostly in the early days and most of Reed's catalog is standard rock music. Nico, on the other hand, made Cathedral music from outer space that could never be mistaken for anything mainstream.

Play most Lou Reed albums to people and they'll get into it. But play Nico to someone and you're likely to get a "WTF?!!" response. She's definitely an acquired taste. But if you adjust your head and really listen to where she's coming from, her albums are pretty impressive and a lot of her songs are surprisingly catchy (in their own way).

And besides, it's amusing the way she baffled and annoyed critics. I recently came across this sentence from an old Robert Christgau review of one of my favorite Nico albums, Desertshore: "The Velvet Underground and Nico plus Chelsea Girl convinced me that Nico had charisma; The Marble Index plus Desertshore convince me that she's a fool." What better recommendation could you get than that?

***

Since there's not a lot of material here, I thought I'd add in a couple of related articles from two vintage rock magazines. I first read both of these articles in high school and they each had a major influence on my musical tastes.

The first is "The Velvet Underground: White Light/Dark Shadows" from the July 1981 issue of Creem magazine. It offers and cultured and scholarly overview of the band's work. In a lot of ways, this was the article that inspired me to be a writer. It definitely caused me to track down all the out-of-print Velvets albums that school year. I'm not sure exactly why Creem decided to include an article of this nature along with the then-trendy features on AC/DC, Pearl Harbor, and Joe Ely, but I'm glad they did. It's still an excellent read.

Special note to readers regarding the photo captions in Creem magazine: The editors of Creem used to use these spaces to make jokes and/or satirize the articles. These are not to be taken literally. Silly captions don't mean that the article in question is "All lies!! OMG!!" as some high school friends of mine shrieked back in the day. Seriously people, if you read this article and find you cannot emotionally handle a few jokes, the problem is with you, not with Creem. Adjust your meds.

Back to reality, the second article ran in the Sept.-Oct. issue of the little-known Trouser Press Collector's Magazine. This broadsheet, newspaper-styled publication was founded to supplement Trouser Press, the New York-based mag that covered British rock and new wave. The article focuses on Nico's recording career starting with her time in the Velvets. And while I think the writer goes a little hard on the Chelsea Girl album (which has aged exceptionally well since then), I generally agree with most of his points. And besides, who else was devoting three pages to Nico back in 1981?

Related posts:
The Velvet Underground - Squeeze (1973)
The Velvet Underground - The Velvet Underground - Etc. (1979)
Trouser Press Magazine Back Issues

Track list:
1. Secret Side
2. No One Is There
3. Janitor Of Lunacy
4. Frozen Warnings

Bonus material:
"The Velvet Underground: White Light/Dark Shadows" - Creem Magazine (July 1981)
"Nico" - Trouser Press Collector's Magazine - Issue #19 (Sept.-Oct. 1981)