THE RISING STORM

The announcement of the reunion album featuring all five original Byrds raised expectations to the point where whatever emerged was almost bound to be an anticlimax. (Imagine the effect of the Beatles reforming around the same time, if you will.) Despite a general thumbs-down from the critics, fan loyalty and eager anticipation made the new long-player highly successful at the record store: in the States, the biggest-selling new-material Byrds album since Turn, Turn, Turn. Subsequent reviews expressed varying degrees of disappointment, but recent re-evaluation with almost forty years of hindsight portrays the project as fascinating historically and not without merit artistically. Interest in it has never waned and it’s been re-released on CD no fewer than four times. The Wikipedia article on it is almost a book.

The theory behind the reunion varies. According to one version, the famously unreticent David Crosby visited Roger McGuinn in mid-1972 and panned the well-loved White/Battin/Parsons Byrds lineup, saying, “you’ve done some OK stuff but you’ve also done stuff that is pretty bad. Please stop doing it under the Byrds name”. Crosby then suggested reforming the original band to record an album showing where the founder members “are at today”. Another version has the ever-opportunistic David Geffen seeing the lucrative potential of a reunion and planting the suggestion in McGuinn’s mind, noting that McGuinn himself had become dissatisfied with the long-standing lineup and replaced Gene Parsons with salaried sessioneer John Guerin. Either way, McGuinn acquiesced and the other members, all having found themselves between longterm engagements, followed.

The nature of the final work supports the first theory: the album is The Crosby Show in almost every respect. Although on the surface democracy seems to be served by each of the four principals furnishing two original compositions, two of the three accompanying covers are Neil Young songs and the third is by Joni Mitchell, both being longtime Crosby cronies (though Clark takes lead vocal on the Young ditties). It’s been suggested that the other three writers were saving their best material for their own solo projects, but though none of their offerings is a blockbuster they’re all engaging enough, especially Gene Clark’s delicate “Full Circle” and Dylanesque “Changing Heart” and McGuinn’s ersatz-traditional “Sweet Mary”. By contrast, Crosby’s “Long Live The King” is characteristically ebullient, while his “Laughing” is itself actually a cover of the original that appeared on his sublime 1971 collection If Only I Could Remember My Name. Crosby also has the sole production credit; the only tracks that show real spirit in the lead vocals are his; and in the cover photographs he’s the only one who really looks like he wants to be there. (Chris Hillman looks like he’d rather be anywhere else at all.)

The sound of the album is also heavily redolent with Crosby’s aural fingerprint. Acoustic guitars predominate, with the electrics and bass mostly mixed way back and only Hillman’s vibrant mandolin and Clark’s plaintive harmonica forefronted strongly as solo instruments. Apart from “Laughing”, all the songs have short, terse arrangements, never really catching fire. While Crosby’s lead vocals soar, Clark’s and Hillman’s are more subdued and McGuinn’s particularly sombre. The block harmonies are immaculate but display the sweetness of CS&N rather than the engaging rough edge of latterday Byrds. One is led to conclude that with this album Crosby finally achieved, albeit temporarily, belatedly and with questionable success, the domination of the Byrds that he’d craved during the classic years.

mp3: Full Circle
mp3: Long Live the King

CD Reissue | 2004 | Wounded Bird | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1973 | Asylum | search ebay ]

This may be John Stewart’s finest achievement although some fans might argue in favor of the great Willard from 1970.  California Bloodlines was John Stewart’s first true solo disc.  Recorded and released in 1969, Stewart used many of the same musicians as Dylan did for Nashville Skyline.  As expected this disc is much more rustic and country influenced than his work with either Buffy Ford or the Kingston Trio.  Regardless, this is a “must own” for fans of authentic American music.

It took me several spins and a few hours in deep thought to finally come to terms with this classic. John Stewart’s quivering, thin Johnny Cash-like vocals threw me off at first but now I see why many rate California Bloodlines as one of the premier Americana albums.  It’s stacked from top to bottom with great songs and intelligent songwriting.  The opener is one of Stewart’s classics, and while the studio side is excellent in it’s own way,  I prefer the full, live arrangement from October of 69 (Chris Darrow plays fiddle/mandolin on the live version).  Stewart’s songwriting is best heard on gems “Lonesome Picker,” “Missouri Birds,” and “The Pirates of Stone Country Road.”   These cuts are loaded with images of people and places from a bygone era.  He occasionally takes the historical viewpoint a la Robbie Robertson but his songwriting is certainly one of the album’s strengths.  If you’re a fan of Gene Clark or Mickey Newbury I’m sure you’ll be able to appreciate the awesome “Lonesome Picker.”  This track is a spellbinding masterpiece with haunting imagery and lyrics that still cut deep today. My favorite song from the album, “Never Goin’ Back,”  is another standout track that features plenty of buzzing fuzz guitar similar to the Burritos’ classic “Devil In Disguise.”  The rest of California Bloodlines is fleshed out with accomplished country-rockers and pretty country-folk ballads that have great melodies and tight arrangements.

If you can get a hold of an original or the BGO twofer (with Willard) by all means do so!

“Lonesome Picker”

2fer w/ Willard | 2001 | BGO | at amzn ]
Orig Vinyl | 1969 | Capitol | at ebay ]

At the time of its release an air of mystery pervaded the third studio album proper from Fleetwood Mac. The new, sombre product displayed a seemingly inexplicable change of direction from the preceding high-octane blues-fuelled style. The previously irrepressible Jeremy Spencer is totally absent from the recordings apart from one or two alleged (and inaudible) background piano noodlings, though he appears smiling broadly in the band’s back cover picture. The diminution of Peter Green’s dominance, already clear from the second album, is evinced even further here. Shouldering the new responsibilities is unknown wunderkind guitarist Danny Kirwan, given an unprecedented five (originally seven, but two deleted to allow retrospective inclusion of Green’s double-sided single “Oh Well”) of the individual songwriting credits.

After the rollicking ebullience of the earlier records, the music of Then Play On is often spare and bleak, largely instrumental and, in the case of Green’s compositions, world-wearily sad, both musically and lyrically; the seeds of his later disillusionment, depression and eventual schizophrenia can be clearly heard here. His songs retain a blues flavour, but it’s more oblique, almost incidental. Kirwan’s compositions are more harmonically complex and somewhat more upbeat, but still wistful enough to gracefully complement Green’s songs. What’s most remarkable is the empathy between the two guitarists, who intertwine seamlessly, stylistically and melodically, with just Kirwan’s sharper tone, more pronounced vibrato and generally higher-register playing the difference. Green probably never found a more empathic performance partner, Kirwan a more accommodating mentor. Mick Fleetwood’s drumming is inventive and varied throughout whilst never being overbearing; John McVie’s bass work metronomically understated as ever. For me the highlights are Green’s multifaceted nine-minute masterpiece “Oh Well”, the energetic guitar jam “Searching For Madge” / “Fighting For Madge” which benefits from some fine, mildly lysergic studio editing, Kirwan’s delightful instrumental “My Dream” and Green’s almost unbearably downbeat closer “Before The Beginning”.

Retrospectively this can be seen to be one of the great transitional albums, marking the departure of one of rock’s guitar legends and the start of the first and longest of several turbulent periods for what would become one of rock’s institutions. The absence of the unpredictable Spencer is now thought to be due to a lack of enthusiasm for Green’s downer songs, a theory supported by his making a solo album at the same time . . . to which the other Mac members all contributed. Kirwan’s sudden prominence in the band might have been due at least in part to a romantic attraction on the part of Green, who nicknamed him “young eyes”. And Green’s now universally known psychiatric problems explain his reducing control and ensuing exit. The historical context isn’t necessary to appreciate this haunting, introspective album, but it helps.

“My Dream”

Original Vinyl | 1969 | Reprise | search ebay ]

(22 votes, average: 8.55 out of 10)

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Sometimes when I listen to Townes, it makes me feel like nothing else could ever reach his level.
But does the production on this debut truly take the steam out of the songs?
And if this isn’t his best record, which one is?

Vinyl Search | ebay ]
CD Reissue | 2007 | Fat Possum | amazon ]

Sometimes it’s the less visible members of a great band who turn out to be the most interesting. Gene Parsons was the drummer with the Byrds from 1968 to 1972. If you’ve ever even heard his name, there’s a fair chance that you’ll confuse him with his near namesake who was with the same band less than a year and achieved a disproportionate notoriety. It’s indicative of Gene’s character that when Chris Hillman quit the Byrds to form the Flying Burrito Brothers with Gram, Gene refused the invitation to accompany him, choosing to stay with the seemingly over-the-hill outfit out of loyalty, particularly to close friend Clarence White, rather than take a giant leap with the hotly-fancied new boys.

Gene’s career continued to be defined by his unassuming, sensitive personality. When Roger McGuinn finally fired Gene and Clarence before the ill-fated reunion of the original band, Gene went into Warner Brothers to record an album of the songs he’d been unable to persuade McGuinn to perform with the Byrds. The project had support from Clarence throughout, with guest appearances from legendary bluegrass artists Vassar Clements on fiddle and Ralph Stanley on vocal. But the biggest surprise was the appearance of Gene Parsons, lead vocalist and multi-instrumentalist, who beside thumping the tubs proved to be a butt-kicking five-string banjoist and also contributed acoustic and electric guitars, pedal steel, harmonica and bass. Gene’s earnest vocals front seven originals plus covers by Lowell George, old partner Gib Guilbeau, Stanley and Skip Battin. The feel of the album is as refreshingly homespun as might be expected, with an air of bluegrass that predates the genre’s eighties traditionalist revival and compares with the slick commercial country rock then being produced by the various other Byrds alumni and their contemporaries. The sparse, bright production by Russ Titelman is exemplary.

The album garnered strong reviews from Rolling Stone and other music press biggies and might have prefigured a profitable, if appropriately low-key, solo career for Gene, but shortly after its issue Clarence White was killed and, in despair at the loss of his friend and collaborator, Gene withdrew from his Warners contract and retired to his California farm to concentrate on developing the Parsons-White String Bender. It would be three years before he ventured on a stage again, joining the reformed Burritos for a three-year tenure during which Gene finally found peer acceptance in a group milieu as composer and vocalist. Since then he’s continued to make public music at intervals whilst devoting his main effort to production and further development of the String Bender. He still has the trademark “soup strainer” moustache and professes contentment with life in a style typical of the man.

Kindling has been reissued by Sierra Records as The Kindling Collection, which bookends the whole album with seven neglected Parsons originals from the Byrds’ albums and four more from the later Burritos era. Clarence White features heavily on the former cuts and Sneaky Pete Kleinow on the latter, and the whole package is an excellent chronicle of Gene’s first-division career.

“Monument”

Vinyl | 1973 | Warner Bros | search ebay ]
CD Reissue | 1995 | Sierra | buy from sierra ]

This is good singer-songwriter fare that’s well worth seeking out (and a pretty easy find too). Loudon Wainwright III had been kicking around for some time, releasing a few critically acclaimed folk albums throughout the early 70s. Attempted Mustache (his 4th LP) is one of Loudon’s finest efforts, a loose, low key affair with brutally honest lyrics and even a few shambolic, drunken performances that are highly entertaining. So while the playing and atmosphere is relaxed, this LP features some of Loudon’s best loved songs, a few that rank as true classics. Columbia released this very solid, musical album in 1973 (Loudon’s prime years), as he was just coming off the fluke hit “Dead Skunk.”

The album opens with “Swimming Song,” a very personal composition with clever lyrics. For this track Loudon’s ex-wife taught him how to pick the banjo. Towards the end Doug Kershaw adds some wonderful colors with his superb fiddle work. All in all, a brilliant performance that captures the man at the top of his game. Other great numbers are “A.M. World” (drunken country-rock), “Come A Long Way” (fragile Americana), “Nocturnal Stumblebutt” (sexually charged singer-songwriter nonsense) and “Lullaby” (melancholy folk-rock). These tracks rank as some of the finest unsung singer-songwriter material from the era but the humorous, looser cuts such as the live, talking-blues of “I Am The Way”, the modern/indie sounding “Dilated To Meet You” and rocker “Clockwork Chartreuseare” are almost as good.

Some reviewers have criticized Loudon’s work for being too emotional or overly sensitive but I think Attempted Mustache sounds great, especially all these years later. More of a hard luck hero than a James Taylor, Loudon delivers the goods on Attempted Mustache.

“The Swimming Song”

Vinyl | 1973 | Columbia | search ebay ]
MP3 Album | download at amzn ]

From 1971 Japan comes this gleaming gem of classic rock, encompassing a myriad of American styles from rural rock and country to raw garage, blues, experimental, and blazing west coast rock – but contrary to prevailing trends of the time, the lyrics are not sung in English. If this poses a problem for your ears it is a great shame, for Kazemachi Roman (Wind City Romance) is a must-listen record, and #1 on Rolling Stone’s list of the 100 Greatest Japanese Rock Albums.

Kazemachi Roman owes its sound to many influences, but the band maintains an unmistakable originality while flawlessly running the gamut of American popular music. “Haikara Hakuchi” drives with Moby Grape ferocity, “Haru Ranman” combines byrdsian folk with a roaming west coast feel, while “Sorairo no Crayon” dabbles with country & western, complete with pedal steel and a yodeled outro.  ”Natsu Nandesu” and “Kaze wo Atsumete” have a soulful, bucolic charm, the latter finally getting its due via 2003’s Lost In Translation soundtrack. “Dakishimetai” sounds like a classic 70s rock anthem and “Hanaichimonme” grooves like a freight train, prodded along by rolling guitar licks and piano driving. “Ashita Tenki ni Naare” is a funky rhythm and blues featuring an awesome Beegees multi-falsetto vocal part. And then there’s “Taifuu” (typhoon), the clear alpha dog of the set. On this authorative rocker the singer lets it all out with gnarly, gutteral yelps and grunts.

Even the slightest investment in this record should prove the attraction goes way beyond novelty.  The sound is instantly recognizable feel-good rock and easily transcends the language barrier. Had these gentlemen hailed from California and sang in English, Happy End would have been a household name.

The lead man, Haroumi Hosono, would later form the sensational Yellow Magic Orchestra (titans of the pre-midi synth age) and continues to make music with his electronica duo, Sketch_Show.

“花いちもんめ (Hanaichimonme)”

CD Reissue | search ebay ]

Symphonion Dream was the last album recorded by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band before Jim Ibbotson left and the band began to move away from its traditional jug band/bluegrass roots. The big question is why in 1975, when the rest of the First Division of country-rock practitioners – the Eagles, Poco, Souther-Hillman-Furay et al – had been travelling for some time in the direction of simplified, stadium-friendly AOR, the NGDB went the other way and produced what I think is the best, and surely the quirkiest, psychedelic country album ever. The tunes are the band’s usual mix of originals and highly personalised covers; however this time the tunes are wrapped up in a sonic kaleidoscope of sound effects, seaside amusement park soundtracks, studio backchat, disconcerting segues, fade-in/fade-out interludes and odd instrumentation. So many familiar tunes, so many unfamiliar and occasionally unsettling treatments.

The album is bookended front-and-back by the eerie screech of an Aeolian harp, with a lonely tolling bell as prologue, finally fading out to the silvery chiming of the Symphonion – a large Victorian musical automaton sounding like an orchestra of musical boxes. The original songs feature some truly offbeat ideas, with John McEuen picking Flamenco on solo banjo – perhaps influenced by Bernie Leadon’s banjo opus Journey Of The Sorcerer on the Eagles’ One Of These Nights – and hammering the same banjo to produce steel band-like tones on the calypsoish Joshua Come Home. The more conventional tracks move smoothly from Hey Good Lookin’, played Bob Wills-style with Linda Ronstadt duetting Ibbotson on vocal, via a roistering Texas honky-tonk rendering of JD Souther’s The Moon Just Turned Blue, to the straight-ahead country-rock, all Telecasters blazing, of Bayou Jubilee. However, perhaps more memorable are the swampy, drone-laden treatment of that hoary old standard, The Battle Of New Orleans, replete with coda of marching drums and bagpipes, and the thumping bluegrass version of the Everlys’ maudlin (All I Have To Do Is) Dream, which revisits the Dirts’ version of Mike Nesmith’s Some Of Shelley’s Blues. Musicianship and harmonies throughout are as accomplished as we’ve come to expect from these guys, with McEuen’s fiery five-string banjo usually well to the fore, and production by Bill McEuen (any relation?) is faultless.

Exactly what the Dirts were trying to achieve with this album escapes me – perhaps a belated country-rock Sergeant Pepper? There is no conceptual theme as such, though the first four tracks on what was the second side seem to purposefully convey an atmosphere of the southern California coastline. Whatever: I enjoy eclectic albums that display a multiplicity of styles within, or even across, genres. This one never escapes being country-rock, but boy, does it stretch the boundaries.

“The Battle of New Orleans”

CD Reissue |2003 | Capitol | buy ]
Original Vinyl | 1975 | United Artists | ebay ]

In 1969 Mickey Newbury’s Looks Like Rain began a string of incredible albums that lasted well into the 1970s. Heaven Help The Child, released in 1973, was one of his very best records. It was also the last of his classic Cinderella Sound Studio Recordings (a garage studio). Produced by Dennis Linde, Russ Miller and Marlin Greene, Heaven Help The Child featured a whole cast of contemporary Nashville musicians: Wayne Moss (guitar) Chet Atkins (guitar), Vassar Clements (violin), David Briggs (keyboards), Buddy Spicher (drums) to name but a few. Many of these talented musicians had performed on Newbury’s prior albums’ Looks Like Rain and Frisco Mabel Joy. Once again Mickey Newbury was up to the task, releasing another hard-to-categorize classic.

“Heaven Help The Child,” the title track, is a soaring American masterpiece that was beautifully produced and featured poignant lyrics about Park Avenue, New York in 1912, 1920’s Paris, and of course freight trains. The lyrics, as always have lots of depth and the overall feel of the song becomes captivating when Newbury sings in his ghostly voice, “We’re all building walls instead of bridges.” “Heaven Help The Child” ended with an air of uncertainty but it goes without saying that this was one of Newbury’s finest creations. Another highlight, “Why You Been Gone So Long,” swings with a confident country-rock swagger and features excellent dobro guitar and Newbury’s smokey vocals which simmer throughout the song.

Four of the songs from Heaven Help The Child had been released on earlier LPs.  Here, “Sunshine,” “Sweet Memories,” “Good Morning Dear,” and “San Francisco Mabel Joy” all enjoy definitive reworkings.  Great songs from Newbury’s prior discs had become even better renditions for Heaven Help The Child.  From my perspective, “Sweet Memories” and ”Sunshine” stand out for their dark tone.  Here, Newbury shares his pain with the listener and by the end each song you begin to feel it – the vocal performances on all these tracks are flawless.    You will never hear any country music like this, it’s experimental but more importantly, the honesty and personal nature of Newbury’s songwriting talents shine through.  It’s what makes him such a special, enduring artist.  By all means, if you find this album on vinyl, cd or mp3 pick it up, it’s absolutely brilliant.

Mickey Newbury’s music isn’t glamorous or pretentious, he never tried to be someone else nor did he follow any sort of fad (just like country-folk contemporary Townes Van Zandt). Newbury’s appeal was in the song, he brought you back to a familiar place and time. His music, while very complex, is easy to relate to; he was just a regular guy with extraordinary vocals and a unique songwriting talent. As mentioned in a previous post, the Mickey Newbury Collection (Mountain Retreat box set) has been out of print for quite some time. You can purchase a digital download of this album and many other Mickey Newbury classics at the official Mickey Newbury website.

“Why You Been Gone So Long”

MP3 Album | mickeynewbury.com ]
Original Vinyl | 1973 | Elektra | search ebay ]

R. Stevie Moore, with hundreds of albums under his belt – most of them scratchy home-recordings released on cassette tape – is an unrecognized genius. Born in Nashville, son to Elvis’s bass player, Bob Moore, Robert Steven Moore grew up in the music business. Opting to make it on his own with the reel-to-reel instead of working sessions, his dedication to independent recording has yielded troves of unaffected, wildly original music. Earlier this year, he told Vanity Fair: “I’ve worked harder than anybody to become rich and famous, but I remain poor and anonymous!”

Phonography was Stevie’s first official long player, recorded from 1973 to 1976 and originally released in 100 copies on the artist’s private Vital Records. Ingredients include lo-fi, direct input, overloaded electric guitar, a classical approach to warbly analog synth arrangements, hi-pitched erratic vocals, oddball skits that are genuinely funny, and a fine gift for pop songcraft. Within a few listens you’ll hear traces of Brian Wilson, The Mothers, Gary Wilson, and Daniel Johnston, the latter especially on goofy cuts like “Goodbye Piano.”

The opener, “Melbourne,” sets an unexpected stage, an anthemic synthesized introduction. Then Stevie shares a few words about his background whilst taking a piss!  The album is schizophrenic, but wonderfully listenable, even through magnetic tape distortions. The beauty is in the fidelity, Moore recognizes what’s special about recordings, and the record’s presentation is engaging rather than just plain weird. Then a perfect pop song comes out of nowhere!

Phonography is a record like no other, and merely an introduction to the incredible world of R. Stevie Moore. Find more than you could ever handle at rsteviemoore.com.

“I Want You In My Life”

CD Reissue | 1998 | Flamingo | rsteviemoore.com ]
MP3 Album | download at amzn ]

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Ballad of Easy Rider was one of two great Byrds’ albums to be released after the groups’ acknowledged heyday (Mr. Tambourine Man to Sweetheart of the Rodeo).  Released in 1969, before the excellent double set Untitled, Ballad of Easy Rider was a quiet, tranquil record with good songs and fine, professional performances.  By this time Clarence White was a full-time member and the group was looking to rebound from their prior release, the uneven Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde.

Ballad of Easy Rider kicked off with the title track, two minutes of beautiful countrified folk-rock that was notable for its stately orchestration.  This was definitely one of the latter group’s finest performances and legend has it that Dylan wrote half the lyrics down on a napkin (McGuinn naturally finished up the song).  Perhaps the album’s most popular track was the gospel influenced “Jesus Is Just Alright,” a fine pop number in it’s own right that reached the lower regions of the charts.  There were great covers of “Tulsa Country” (country-rock with excellent guitar work from Clarence White), “There Must Be Someone I Can Turn To” (a classic Gosdin Brothers‘ track), “Jack Tarr The Sailor” (a sea shanty folk-rocker with stinging electric guitar and banjo) and Woody Guthrie’s “Deportee.”    The story behind “There Must Be Someone I Can Turn To” is rather interesting. One night Vern Gosdin came home after playing a gig to find his house completely empty.  His wife and kids were gone along with the furniture and there was a goodbye note from his wife.  With this in mind, Vern sat down and wrote “There Must Be Someone I Can Turn To.”  The Byrds decided to include this number into their set because of its meaning and emotional power.

The originals on Ballad of Easy Rider are also impressive.  “Fido,” written by John York is a funky number about a stray dog.  There’s a brief drum solo and some strong guitar riffs, it’s unlike anything the Byrds would ever record.  “Oil In My Lamp” showcases a Clarence White vocal and is an excellent country rocker with a very laid back, rustic feel (with more great guitar riffs).  The best of the bunch is “Gunga Din,” a minor Byrds’ classic with Gene Parsons taking lead vocals and really great finger picking via Clarence White.  It almost seems as if Roger McGuinn relinquished his leadership role in the Byrds to let Clarence White take the spotlight on Ballad of Easy Rider. 

I think it’s wrong to assume the Byrds were dead after Sweetheart of the Rodeo.   Many fans suggest this version of the Byrds was less innovative and lacked a strong songwriter.  While the Byrds did write fine original material they were also known as great interpreters of folk and country material.  I must point out that these latter day Byrds were known to be a great live band (probably the best in the group’s history), featured one of the era’s finest guitarists in Clarence White, and released two classic country-rock records.  This is one of them.

“Jack Tarr The Sailor”

CD Reissue | 2008 | Sbme | amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Columbia | ebay ]
MP3 Album | download ]