Category: rock

The Watchtower, All Along

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

Written by “Bob Dylan and recorded on his 1967 album “Bob Dylan's 'John Wesley Harding'John Wesley Harding“, “All Along the Watchtower” is one of those songs which seems to work no matter who’s performing it. Certainly, only a Dylan purist would complain of its treatment at the hands of “Jimi Hendrix's 'Smash Hits'Jimi Hendrix, whose version is certainly the best known among casual rock listeners.

Perhaps not as well known is “U2‘s cover on their big live album, “U2's 'Rattle & Hum'Rattle and Hum.” If we are to believe the clips from the movie, the band figured out the song in the trailer just before the show, with Bono scrambling to find someone who knew all the lyrics. Hendrix didn’t; at least, he mangles some lines pretty badly. U2’s version is a bit clearer, although not adventurous by any means.

As always, my favorite is even farther afield. Discovered and signed to Windham Hill Records by William Ackerman, “Michael Hedges was a remarkable live performer. I hope someday to find a copy of the PBS special containing Ackerman, Hedges, and Shadowfax; Hedges performs “All Along the Watchtower” solo, on an acoustic 6-string guitar, and turns in the hardest rocking version I’ve ever heard. I haven’t had a chance to sample the version on his live album “Michael Hedges' 'Live On The Double Planet'Live On The Double Planet but it’s safe to say it won’t disappoint.

It’s no match, though, for the impact of seeing the man perform it; this white Detroit boy with dreadlocks past his shoulders, pink zebra pants, and blue leopard spotted shirt. Not a sight you’ll soon get over; nor a sound you’ll soon forget.

Listen Closely Now

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

You may not recognize the name George Baker, and in fact, there is no George Baker in the George Baker selection. But if you’ve been listening to music in the US or Europe at any time during the last thirty years; in fact, if you’ve been to the movies, you’ve almost certainly heard their song “George Baker Selection's 'Little Green Bag'Little Green Bag.” Making it to number 5 on the US charts when it was released in 1969, it took the spotlight thirty years later as the title song for the 1999 movie “Reservior Dogs.” A raucous and fun number, it features snappy basslines, infectious guitar, and the almost-Tom-Jones voice of Johannes Bouwens, the Dutch singer/songwriter behind the group.

But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I want to know what a little green bag has to do with anything. Think about it; which makes more sense, poetically or otherwise:

 Looking back On the track For a little green bag

or

 Looking back On the track For a little greenback ?

Okay, maybe it’s farfetched to believe that even the group’s official website would perpetuate the wrong lyrics, but it’s not impossible.

One of the biggest hits Cream had, owing partly to the distinctive guitar of someone billed as “L’Angelo Mysterioso” but who was in fact George Harrison, was a song called “'The Very Best of Cream'Badge.” But it wasn’t supposed to be called that; George’s solo is the transitional section between the first half of the song, and the second half — the bridge. Bridge. Not badge. But a studio technician saw ‘bridge’ written in the sidebar of the sheet music, took it for the title of the untitled piece, and that’s how it went to press.

Gordon Lightfoot’s first album “Gordon Lightfoot's 'Lightfoot'Lightfoot” contained, among other masterpieces, a tune called “Rich Man’s Spiritual.” Lines like

 I'm gonna buy me a poor man's troubles, Yes, Lord, to help me home

make it clear that this is a rather sarcastic look at the commercialization of religion. Or something like that. But on the album’s liner notes, Lightfoot points out that, either due to some deepseated feelings about the general brotherhood of man, or because it was late and the technician was tired, it was almost recorded as “Richman’s Spiritual”; a different proposition entirely.

So unless someone can dispel my ignorance, when you hear me singing it, you’ll hear ‘little greenback.’

Sorry George.

Ride of the Tarzana Kid

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

Some time back I commented on Jimmy Buffet’s cover of John Sebastian’s “Stories We Could Tell.” It’s time I caught up with the original, and the phenomenal album it comes from.

John Sebastian's 'Tarzana Kid'John Sebastian is most famous for writing and singing the theme song for television’s “Welcome Back Kotter.” A truly forgettable song, it was a far cry from the jug-band roots which led to the formation of “The Lovin’ Spoonful” in 1965. The Spoonful’s finely crafted lyrics and skillful instrumentation still sound good three and a half decades after the group’s dissolution in 1968.

Sebastian’s solo career never really attracted popular attention. It’s incomprehensible to me that “Tarzana Kid” never even registered on the charts. Perhaps it’s just an indicator of my eclecticism, but “Tarzana Kid” is on my very shortest ‘desert island’ album list.

When I sat down to write this, I couldn’t find my vinyl copy; sadly, it’s never been released on CD. Panic ensued; my office was pretty thoroughly rearranged before I discovered it amongst some recently (read ‘during the last 10 years’) played albums. As soon as I replace my tired old turntable, I can build that entertainment center and organize my 1500 slices of vinyl.

“Tarzana Kid” is a slice of Americana, long before ‘Americana’ was a buzzword in the descriptions of bands like Sonvolt. Sebastian combines a delightful selection of his own compositions with country classics and traditional tunes. It’s a testament to his writing and arranging abilities that songs by reggae great Jimmy Cliff and rock icon Lowell George flow smoothly through tunes written for this album to traditional tracks and a new arrangement of a Spoonful hit.

  • Emmylou Harris's 'Pieces of the Sky'Sitting in Limbo — written by Jimmy Cliff and Guilly Bright (variously credited as ‘Gully Bright’) for Cliff’s 1972 album “The Harder They Come” which introduced the oft-recorded “Many Rivers To Cross”, this quiet unassuming arrangement sets the pace for the album. It reminds me quite a bit of Lester Flatt’s singing of Johnny and Roseanne Cash’s “I Still Miss Someone.” The two guitarists on this track bring a wealth of experience and tangential potential: Russell Dashiell’s only solo album (“Elevator”, 1978) featured Doug Clifford and Stu Cook of “Credence Clearwater Revival.” Amos Garrett has recorded with Todd Rundgren (on “Something/Anything?“), Emmylou Harris (on “Pieces of the Sky“), Eric Clapton, Elvin Bishop, Bonnie Raitt, Maria Muldaur, Jerry Garcia, and Paul Butterfield.

    Paul Butterfield's 'Better Days'
    Paul Butterfield’s “Better Days” was the album which introduced me to Amos Garrett’s fluid guitar playing, neatly juxtaposed to Geoff Muldaur’s flashy technical prowess and Geoff’s then wife Maria‘s scrapy-but-perfect fiddle, and anything-but-scrapy-but-still-perfect voice. Another piece of vinyl to be resurrected, this will most certainly resurface here at EGBDF.
  • Friends Again — A Sebastian composition, it features the interesting contrast of his banjo and backing (but not background) vocals by the Pointer Sisters. More upbeat than “Limbo”, “Friends” is a nice segue into the “Little Feat” cover to follow.
  • Dixie Chicken — Covering a song by a song-writing giant like Lowell George can be a tricky proposition; but when said writer plays guitar and sings on your cover, it provides a certain seal of approval. Include the angelic voice of EmmyLou Harris, and you have a version of one of Little Feat’s best songs which I like even better than the original. The lyrics just seem more at home in Sebastian’s folk-infused surroundings than the original funky/bouncy “Little Feat” arrangement. 
     Well it's been a year since she ran away Guess that guitar player sure could play He was always handy with a song I guess she liked to sing along Later on in the lobby of the Commodore Hotel I chanced to meet a bartender who said he knew her well And as he handed me a drink he began to hum a song And all the boys there at the bar began to sign along

    Lowell George’s lyrics told tales, usually from a slightly skewed perspective. Perhaps it was the influence of his time with Frank Zappa’s “Mothers of Invention.” Zappa convinced George to form his own band after hearing “Willin'” (recently called the best truck driving song ever.) This track is also the first appearance of the tragic Jim Gordon on drums.

  • Stories We Could Tell — A simple melodic ballad with lyrics designed to evoke memories of times past and opportunities missed, but with a hope of those still to come. Jimmy Buffet’s excellent cover surfaced here in Paris or Alaska?. Barely discernible background vocals courtesy of Phil Everly.
  • Face of Appalachia — With music co-written by Lowell George and John Sebastian, Sebastian’s lyrics weave a heart-rending picture of an old man’s struggle to impart his childhood memories to his grandson; memories of places and people who no longer exist; of an era long gone. With the largest ensemble of any of the album’s tracks, this conveys a larger, fuller sound as well; almost as if it wanted a full orchestration. Songs this good deserve more attention than it ever received. Fortunately, it’s available on Sebastian’s “John Sebastian's 'Greatest Hits'Best Of” album, which also includes “Sitting in Limbo” and “Stories We Could Tell.” Witty and sensitive fiddle by the infamous David Lindley.
  • Wild Wood Flower — Every folk or bluegrass guitarist wants to record a distinctive version of this traditional tune. John injects a definite jazz feeling, swinging just enough to remove this version from the ‘bluegrass’ genre and make it his own. Fun and spritely, unlike the fiery or morose feel of most bluegrass versions.
  • Wild About My Lovin’ — Another traditional tune, covered by the Spoonful as well. This version reminds me quite a bit of my father’s jam sessions with his brothers and sister when I was a child. There’s so much joy, and an unmistakeable wry humor. Harder-than-it-sounds guitar opens the track, and holds its own throughout. Mandolin and slide guitar delivered by the venerable Ry Cooder.
  • Singing the Blues — Never successful as a singer, this song’s composer Melvin Endsley saw his tunes recorded by such artists as Guy Mitchell, Andy Williams, Paul McCartney, Marty Robbins, Johnny Cash, Stonewall Jackson and Ricky Skaggs. Despite my indoctrination into Marty Robbins’ version as a very small child, this remains my favorite version.
  • Sportin’ Life — This sounds more like a traditional tune, and “Wild About My Lovin'” sounds like something the Spoonful would have concocted. In reality, it’s the other way ’round. “Sportin’ Life” was written as a collaborative effort by the members of the Spoonful the year it was recorded. This cover, spare and simple, is about the lyrics; and the lyrics are a bleak blues of a misspent life.
  • Harpoon — The second instrumental on the album, this is a fun, albeit slightly disorganized track. The closest thing to a disappointment on “Tarzana Kid”, it sounds like it couldn’t decide whether to be rock, blues, or jazz, and misses just a bit on all fronts. Not unlistenable, mostly because the lead is John’s harmonica, but not up to the fine standards set by the rest of the cuts, and not really in sync with the feel of the album.

The strings on the album were arranged by David Paich, who founded “Toto” in 1978. David is the son of pianist and arranger Marty Paich, who worked with such jazz luminaries as Art Pepper and Mel Tormé. The Paich family provides one of my very few brushes with the stars; I know Marty’s sister Ann. (Yes, that was the primary reason for this tangent.)

It’s nice to see that John was still recording at least as recently as the summer of ’99. When I’ve sampled some of his newer tributes to his jug-band origins, I’ll let you know how they stand up to the “Tarzana Kid.”

I’d forgotten that the track list on the album is different from the actual song order. Song four on side one is listed as “Sportin’ Life”; track four on side two is listed as “Stories We Could Tell.” They are swapped on the vinyl.

Return of King L

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

A few years ago a friend loaned me a CD I’ve been looking for ever since. Karen’s brother, Eric Pressley, played bass for “King L”, a group founded by the mysterious and talented Gary Clark. I remember very little about the album except that I really liked it. Two songs stuck in my head: a hard-driving rocker called, appropriately enough, “Tom Driver”, and a pseudo-country romp called “Hopin’ They’ll Be Open.”

I just discovered that the album, “King L's 'Great Day for Gravity'Great Day for Gravity“, never released in the US, is still available in the UK. It was ordered within minutes, of course. Surprisingly, the total cost, including shipping from the UK, is about $15US. I can guarantee I’ll be expanding my album-searching horizons, now that I’ve discovered such a reasonably priced British location.

Know of inexpensive places to buy non-US albums online? Drop me a note and I’ll start a list of resources for those hard-to-find albums like “Great Day For Gravity.”

When “Great Day for Gravity” arrives for review, I’ll include a teaser for Gary and Eric’s other group, “Transister” and its edgy late-60s sound.

Elvis Einstein Rockefeller Jones

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

[az]B00006HCBB[/az]A while ago my second son Brendan played an MP3 he’d downloaded called “Wake Up Charlie.” It’s a poignant bluegrass tune about a young boy caring for his older brother, and why. I recognized the voices as Berkley Hart, an alt-country duo whose songs “High School Town” and “Something to Fall Back On” get some airplay on our local independent radio station KPRI.

Jeff Berkley and Calman Hart are gaining notoriety in the local music scene, and I certainly hope the rest of the country catches on soon. They swing wildly from bluegrass and straight country to tunes which defy pigeon-holing. Their lyrics are intelligent and thought-provoking and sometimes sad, their music carefully crafted and deceptively simple.

Songs like “Elvis Einstein” are the reason the genre ‘alt-country’ exists. The opening banjo is closer to Bela Fleck than Earl Scruggs, and the lyrics are a tale of a baby found in a dumpster. Delivered to a nearby church by the old man who found him, he’s left with a note telling the priest that, in order to give him a good start in life, his name is ‘Elvis Einstein Rockefeller Jones.’ In each succeeding verse, the boy gets a new name from someone who thinks he deserves better, but in the end, it’s not his name that makes him who he is.

Jeff and Calman have two albums together, “Wreck ‘n’ Sow” released two years ago, featuring Charlie, Elvis Einstein, and the tragic couple of “Barrel of Rain”, and their new album “Something To Fall Back On” released July 27th of this year. Many of their tunes are available at MP3.com. While you’re there, get copies of “Up the River” and “If I Die In A Nuclear War”, only available on Calman’s solo album “The John Boy Drum” which I can’t find anywhere.

Planet of New Orleans

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

If you own a radio, chances are you’ve heard bits of Dire Straits‘ eighth album, ‘on every street‘ (they didn’t capitalize it; who am I to correct them?) ‘Calling Elvis’, ‘The Bug’, and ‘Heavy Fuel’ were all heard on commercial radio here in San Diego.

If you don’t own the album, chances are you haven’t heard some of Mark Knopfler’s best writing, and, just as important, arranging.

on every streetDire Straits usually includes at least one longish tune on their albums. ‘on every street’ has three, all of them better examples of what a longer pop tune should be. While I’m a huge fan of Neil Young, Knopfler’s longer songs tend to be more directed, less rambling. Maintaining direction and focus for longer than the traditional three-minute pop tune requires a certain understanding of musical arrangement. Knopfler has it.

The longest cut on the album is the penultimate track, “Planet of New Orleans.” A dream image of a meeting, the consummation of which we’re not privy to, Knopfler allows the saxophone to share the stage throughout, as he’s done on many Dire Straits tracks.

Opening with a slick slidey echoey guitar and some quiet electric piano, the song has a frequent feeling of something mechanical happening in the background; the kind of misplaced-but-perfect percussion we often hear in movie soundtracks. This movie, I like.

None of the guitar solos are guitar-god material, just good solid playing. Mark leaves plenty of room for fellow lutist Guy Fletcher, with a recurring undercurrent of steel guitar added by Paul Franklin.

‘New Orleans’ is arranged well. As one solo ends, the next feels almost inevitable, as if nothing else could have belonged there. The verses are long, the chorus short; the vocals feel more like another instrument, part of the orchestra, than the ‘singing’ part of a rock song. Building from the mysterious, subtle beginning to a large conclusion, ‘Planet of New Orleans’ is worth visiting.

 She took me back to her courtyard where magnolia perfume screams behind the gates and the granite of the planet of New Orleans

Mountains Come Out of the Sky

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

For more than 30 years, Jon Anderson of ‘Yes‘ has been telling an ever more detailed story which I’ve always found fascinating. Anderson, known to fans as the poet of the premier prog rock band’s inscrutable lyrics, has woven his tale through a number of the group’s albums, and made it the focus of an entire solo album.

Way back in 1971 the group finally had a mainstream hit with the song “Roundabout.” They had already gotten attention on the album oriented rock stations with works like “The Yes AlbumYour Move/All Good People” and to a lesser extent, “Survival” but it was their fourth album, “FragileFragile“, with its classical bent and almost fractured composition which propelled them into the limelight.

“Roundabout” (presumably referring to what we in the US call a ‘merry-go-round’) has lyrics obscure enough to please any ‘Yes’ fan, but as a pre-teen trying to understand this new music, these lines in the chorus were particularly difficult:

 In and around the lake, Mountains come out of the sky and they stand there

What could that possibly mean? Of course, the writer of the line “the eagle’s dancing wings create as weather spins out of hand” couldn’t be asked to make sense of something as pedestrian as mountains, sky, and lake. Still, it troubled me.

Two years later, my brother bought ‘YessongsYessongs‘, a three-record live set. There in the huge fold-out cover (a foot tall and a full three feet long) was a picture, of, yes, mountains, coming out of the sky. Only these mountains were clearly pieces of a fractured planet; inverted mountains, broad and curved at the top, narrowing to a point at the base. If you’re not familiar with Richard Dean’s artwork, YessongsI’ll say that owning the classic ‘Yes’ albums on vinyl was worth the full cost of each album just for his gloriously surreal planetscapes.

The next chapter in the revelation was the most complete. In 1976 Anderson released a solo album called “Olias of SunhillowOlias of Sunhillow“, performed entirely by Jon and Vangelis. This album told the complete (as it was then) tale of Olias, navigator of the space ship ‘Moorglade Mover’, who helped guide his people from their doomed planet to a new home. The lyrics of the album, along with the cover art, made it clear to me that this was the story Anderson had been telling all along. It’s good to see that this album is available on CD. My old vinyl copy is due for retirement.

Over the next 20 years, the band went through upwards of 13 iterations, at one point becoming essentially two separate bands, reuniting for the aptly titled “UnionUnion.” Finally, after I was grown and had children who, on their own, discovered a band that beautifully blended the classical music they love and respect with the pounding edgy rock they thrive on, Anderson revealed one more chapter. The opening track to “The LadderThe Ladder” is, lo and behold, called “Homeworld.” At first listen, it seems to be about leaving the homeworld, but closer listening reveals that it’s about finding the homeworld. Written in conjunction with a video game of the same story line, the song harkens back to the early days of ‘Yes’, and reminds me why I love music which tells a story.

No matter how long it takes.

Boating With A Finn

Posted on by Joel D Canfield

Many long years ago, my younger brother introduced me to a really strange album with the really strange name “Waiata.” I discovered before long that it really wasn’t so strange. Eventually, I also found that the band, Split Enz, was founded by two brothers, Neil and Tim Finn.

Over the years they’ve been the forces behind Split Enz and Crowded House, and recorded as The Finn Brothers, as solo acts, and with other performers. In 1992 I stumbled across Tim’s 1986 release “Big CanoeBig Canoe” and it’s been a favorite ever since.

Born in New Zealand, Finn’s music has some of the Celtic rhythym and occasionally obscure lyrics common to Aussie and Kiwi bands. The influences of indigenous music are much subtler than Paul Simon’s “Graceland” but a careful listener will hear them. Finn’s keyboard playing is rarely the star of the song; instead, his carefully phrased vocals give his lyrics the spotlight they deserve. Strong rhythyms from bass and drums play a part in even the quieter tunes, but only grab your attention when it’s their job to do so.

  • “Spiritual Hunger” – The lyrics of this syncopated upbeat opener still mystify me. Tight, short guitar solo.
  • “Don’t Bury My Heart” – A strong string section gives a ‘movie soundtrack’ feel to this ballad of unrequited love. “I was trying to forget the way you smiled when you said goodbye . . .”
  • “Timmy” – About a kid who just can’t stay away from the disco; by the time I heard this song on the radio, I was so used to the Split Enz proto-thrash sound that a nearly disco tune confused me. Now, listening to the trumpet solo and the aggressive soul backing vocals, it’s obvious why Timmy can’t stay home on Saturday night. (Wait; a song about a guy named Timmy, by a guy named Tim; wonder if there’s any connection?)
  • “So Deep” – Are we spiritual animals, or bestial spirits? Most lines are juxtapositions of the beautiful and the beastly:

     A thousand butterflies lifting away, while the hunter pursues his wounded prey . . .

    It is so deep.

  • “No Thunder, No Fire, No Rain” – From the complex opening guitar and strings, it’s clear this song is has a different attitude from those before it. Martin, a young Maori villager who works in the local chemical plant, is killed in an industrial accident the day of his wedding. no thunder, no fire, no rainThe verses depicting Martin meeting death alternate with the gentle loving picture of his bride-to-be preparing to share his life, tragically ignorant of his death. A stronger native rhythym permeates the song, which ends with a slow sad string section fading to silence.
  • “Carve You in Marble” – For once, the piano stars, creating a beautiful introduction which makes me think of Beethoven, whether or not it is really like his works. Keyboards appear, swirl around, and fade; punctuating this song about immortalizing his love. I for one am glad that Finn sculpts melodies rather than carrera. Although all the references in the lyrics are vague, it has an intimate feeling.
  • “Water Into Wine” – After the grace of “Carve You in Marble” the initial crash of “Water Into Wine” is jarring, which fits the shift in subject matter perfectly. About a class ‘A’ jerk trying to convince his girl that he’s really going to score big this time; “We can make it this time; just tell me we ain’t over yet.” By the end, we’re pretty sure the loser’s brilliant drug-smuggling get-rich-quick scheme (“It’s just like water into wine!”) isn’t convincing anyone, not even himself.
  • “Hyacinth” – If men go crazy for the smell of a deluxe pizza or a thick steak grilling, why is it we expect our women to smell like delicate flowers? Therein lies a mystery I’m no closer to solving than any other man in history.
  • “Big Canoe” – Aboriginal percussion introduces a not-entirely-sad look at the changes wrought on ancient cultures by the encroachment of more ‘advanced’ peoples. The only song I’ve ever heard use the word ‘archipelago’ in its chorus. As the music fades, the percussion comes to the fore, continuing until we’ve got the rhythym firmly in mind, at which point it suddenly becomes the in-your-face electric guitar of
  • “Are We One or Are We Two?” – Guitars nearly flailing, a string section much more aggressive than you might expect, and a poor befuddled erstwhile lover wondering what’s going on here, anyway? As the whole thing collapses in a heap, the final sounds of the album are a pair of drumsticks being tossed across the room, clattering to the floor.

CorroboreeThe CD version includes two extra songs, “Searching the Streets”, with a very interesting jazz/country guitar solo, and “Hole in My Heart”, which does a wonderful job of emulating a 60s love song and still fitting the rest of the album.

Oh yes; “Waiata” is finally available under its original release name, “Corroboree.” Perhaps we’ll revisit it someday; magical tunes like the piano wonder “Albert of India” deserve further scrutiny.

For even more about Tim and company, visit his website, especially the links page.