Author Archive

The Rockets (self-titled)

| Classic Rock,Country Rock,Pop

The Rockets

The sole release by the band that would become Crazy Horse. While it may be a bit unfocused, there’s a lot of stellar, inventive material here. Lead vocalist Danny Whitten and guitarist Leon Whitshell each wrote about half of the songs. Traces of embryonic country-rock can be heard, but they mostly cling to a tougher blues-rock sound with interesting psych touches. If anything, it certainly earns originality points for Bobby Notkoff’s innovative use of the electric violin, which ranges from traditional country breakdowns (Hands in my Pocket) to some intense bow-slashing that sounds something like a steel-shed being mutilated by a chainsaw. (Let Me Go).

The album’s highpoint is undoubtedly the melancholic tour-de-force Won’t You Say You’ll Stay, which may be the best song Whitten ever wrote. Unfortunately the album actually suffers because of this”no other track comes close to touching its brilliance. And at least for the sake of consistency they probably should’ve discarded the two awkward blue-eyed soul attempts for something a little heavier in tone. But there’s still some high-quality stuff left, including the snotty, Stones-like Try My Patience and Shed Your Skin, where the ever versatile Notkoff uses the violin to capture a bizarre Eastern feel.

Even with its flaws, the Rockets is an important late 60s album that seems to have been written out of the history books.

“Wont You Say You’ll Stay”

:D CD Reissue | 2001 | Varese Sarabande | buy from amazon ]

The Baroques (self-titled)

| Garage

The Baroques

If Leonard Cohen barged into an Electric Prunes recording after obliterating his mind in an all-night glue-sniffing binge it might have sounded something like this.

With song titles as preposterous as A Musical Tribute to the Oscar Meyer Weiner Wagon, who knows what the famed RnB label Chess Records was thinking when they decided to sign Milwaukee’s The Baroques in 1967. They did manage to stir up a little controversy with their anti-drug (so they claimed) song, Mary Jane, but besides that it looks like Chess was stuck with a very strange, unmarketable record. And don’t expect an onslaught of spacey sound effects and weird noises a la the early Pink Floyd, this is a less overt type of psychosis that slowly but surely embeds itself under your skin.

The Baroques had a fuzz-guitar/keyboard-damaged sound that retained much of the garage intensity of ’66 while plunging into the experimentation that marked the latter part of the decade. Sure, there are traces of the Byrds and the Zombies, but by the time the Baroques have had their way with a pop song, it’s like the deformed bastard child of those bands hobbling around on one leg. As on Rose Colored Glasses, where Jay Berkenhagen’s odd, deep vocals bounce along with awkward (yet insanely catchy) riffs until settling into a gorgeous, harmony-laden chorus. Nothing To Do But Cry is an exceptional folk-rocker that’s dirtied up with some nice distorted jangling and raw power-chording. At times they veer into chaotic fits of noise that wouldn’t sound too out of place on a Scientists album (Iowa, A Girl’s Name Musical Tribute¦). But what really sets them apart from other similarly-minded bands is the excessively glum atmosphere which pervades most of the album. The sludge-folk of Purple Day and Seasons may come off too monotonous for some, but there is something absolutely hypnotizing lurking in the uncommonly dark textures of these songs.

Distortions reissued the LP with plenty of interesting extras.

“Rose Coloured Glasses”

:D CD Reissue | Distortions | Order ] (click order ‘info’ link at top right)
:) Vinyl | search ]

Don Covay “See-Saw”

| RnB,Soul

Seesaw

I’ll forever be indebted to British R&B bands like the Rolling Stones, the Pretty Things and the Downliner’s Sect for not only changing my life with their incredible music, but for also infecting me with an incurable obsession with American roots music. Noticing that their early albums were almost entirely comprised of cover songs sent me scrambling all over the place to track down the raw blues of Howlin’ Wolf and Slim Harpo, the trailblazing country of Hank Snow and Buck Owens, and lots of Southern soul.

Mick Jagger was no Solomon Burke. Well aware of his limitations, he found a way to make it work by studying less technically accomplished singers like Don Covay. One listen to those falsetto notes he hits and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Covay was a prolific songwriter who penned an impressive string of hits for the likes of Aretha Franklin, Burke and Wilson Pickett. He was also one of the most overlooked soul singers of his generation. His first single, Bip Bop Bip, is a frantic ˜50s shouter wild enough to make Little Richard (who he once chauffeured for) sound like Fabian. After releasing a few more sides that were a bit derivative but great nonetheless, Covay finally hit his stride in 64′ with the genre blurring cut Mercy, Mercy. A solid R&B groove was intact, but the prominent raw guitars (rumored to have been played by a young Hendrix) and crashing drums gave it a strong rocknroll edge, anticipating the garage boom that was just on the horizon. His pleading vocals convey a sense of desperation that even surpasses Pickett’s stellar rendition of the song.

This single along with some equally crude tracks from the same era were collected on the 1966 LP See Saw. Everything Gonna Be Everything is an all-out stomper that’ll make you to wonder if he’s not being backed by the Pretties. Also included are some more straight-ahead soul songs he cut at Stax, featuring the tight, horn dominated sound and Steve Cropper licks that made the label famous. On the title cut and Iron Out the Rough Spots we find Covay neck and neck with best talent on the formidable Stax roster.

See Saw is the epitome of a great mid-˜60s Southern soul album, perfectly balanced with the right amount of dance tunes and ballads. It was reissued on CD as a twofer with his terrific first LP Mercy. Razor and Tie released a decent anthology, which includes some of his earlier and later efforts.


“Mercy Mercy”

:D CD Reissue: 2000 | Koch Records | Buy Mercy!/See-Saw @ Amazon ]
:) Vinyl Reissue: 2000? | Atlantic | Search eBay for Don Covay See Saw ]

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Lee Hazlewood “Requiem For An Almost Lady”

| Americana,Country Rock

Requiem For An Almost Lady

The mother of all break-up albums. Hazlewood had just hit middle age at this point, so I’m sure he was already up to his neck in heartbreak. Bad for him. Good for us – because it supplied him with all the ammunition he needed to slug us in the heart with this surprisingly poignant and honest portrait of a broken man and the cold women who left him this way.

Released only in Sweden and the UK (making it pretty damn rare), this is the album where he makes his shrink proud by getting it all out. The ˜almost-lady’ actually represents all the ladies he’s lost over the years.

We find him revisiting the spoken interludes between tracks that graced his first two albums (Trouble is a Lonesome Town, The NSVIP’s), but on this one he keeps them short and not so sweet over some rather doomy guitar strumming.

It maintains, for the most part, a psych-tinged folk/country feel not too dissimilar from his late 60s releases, except this time drums are eschewed for a minimal arrangement of mainly acoustic guitars and bass. But there’s never an empty moment as any void is adequately filled by Jerry Cole’s stunning bass lines. Allow them to give you goose bumps on the tremendous I’ll Live Yesterdays, which is definitely the strongest track on the record. Hazlewood’s lyrical genius really shines here “ simply impeccable. The hurt keeps on spilling from that inimitable deep gravelly voice on the reflective weepers If it’s Monday Morning and Won’t You Tell Your Dreams.

Too bleak for you? Don’t forget who it is we’re talking about here. While it’s unquestionably a sad album, the perpetually jilted Hazlewood’s pop sensibilities still reign, turning even his most lashing fits of hostility into irresistible sing-a-longs. It’s hard to not crack a spiteful grin and join in on a chorus that spits I’d rather be your enemy, than hear you call me friend. And the countrified rockers LA lady and Stone Lost Child offer a nice balance, kicking things up to a galloping pace.

In anyone else’s hands material of this sort probably would have resulted in a self-indulgent whining session or a pointless diatribe. But Lee manages to successfully assemble his emotions into a meaningful and coherent stream of songs. All the bitterness he expresses is perfectly tempered by streaks of vulnerability, loneliness and regret.

Requiem for an Almost-Lady and a few of his other classic LPs were reissued on Smells Like Records

“I’ll Live Yesterdays”

:D CD Reissue: 1999 | Smells Like Records | Buy @ Amazon ]
:) Vinyl Search @eBay: Search Lee Hazlewood ]

David Blue (self-titled)

| Folk

David Blue

At first listen (and glance, just check out the cover) it’s hard not to dismiss David Blue’s first LP as a shameless Bob Dylan imitation. And that would be a fair assessment. From the drunken delivery of his pal’s (yes, they were actually friends) unmistakable drawl to the grittier interpretation of Highway 61’s revved-up folk, Blue seems to be doing everything possible and more to convince the world that he is Bob Dylan.

So why even bother? Because the songs are actually pretty decent. It’s definitely the harder-driving ones that’ll snag you like a rusty old nail. A Bo Diddley beat is shredded to pieces on If Your Monkey Can’t Get It, a grinding cut that’s further damaged by a dissonant collision of overdriven guitars and screaming keyboards. Another standout, It Tastes Like Candy, closes the album with some fuzz guitar savage enough to find a permanent home on a Seeds record. And it’s all propelled by a primitive thump that never lets up.

Slightly less engaging are the quieter moments where he proves to be a fairly competent balladeer. The best of these are Midnight Through Morning and Grand Hotel, with their graceful piano/keyboard work and Blue’s attempts to actually hit a note here and there. And, no, the lyrics are not spared the treatment as he gets us tangled up in obscure, imagery evoking language we know we’ve heard somewhere before.

Although this album could only be crowned a masterpiece in some dreadful Dylan impersonator contest, it is a consistent, enjoyable ride if you give it a chance. And let’s be thankful that someone had enough sense to snatch that harmonica (conspicuously absent from the recordings) away from him before he really made a fool of himself.

Blue toned down the Dylanisms and continued releasing material into the 70s, occasionally under his real name (Cohen). David Blue was reissued on Collector’s Choice Music.

“If Your Monkey Can’t Get It”

[ Purchase @ amazon | LP search @ eBay ]

The Nightcrawlers “The Little Black Egg”

| Garage

The Little Black Egg

What the Hell is that little black egg all about!? I’m still not sure, but ever since that jangly mess of a song got permanently stuck in my head, I’ve found myself wanting one too. If that egg’s anything like the tune, then it must be something good. It was certainly good enough to crack the billboard charts and secure The Nightcrawlers a spot in that pantheon of garage bands (along with the Syndicate of Sound and The Choir) with nothing more to offer than one remarkable song.

Well I’m glad to say that ain’t the case. With any of those bands. And especially Florida’s The Nightcrawlers, who were kind enough to leave behind a whole album of equally deranged folky-garage songs. Big Beat’s reissue of The Little Black Egg LP adds some fine bonus cuts that are sure to please both 60s punk and folk-rock fans alike. When they’re not bashing your head in with harmony laced stompers (I Don’t Remember Who Knows), they slip into a plaintive mood and climb quietly up and down a minor chord (The Last Ship). Perhaps the finest cut is the jangle-punk gem Basket of Flowers which sounds something like the early Turtles being pulverized in The Swamp Rats’ blender. Charlie Conlon’s often inscrutable lyrics and ability to chameleon his vocals to fit the songs gives the album a unique edge, making it stick out from the crowd like a priest in a strip club. A feat that very few mid-60s bands were able to pull off.

All this is enough to qualify LBE as an underappreciated classic, but what they should really be revered for is leaving us utterly devastated with what has to be one of the saddest songs ever recorded, If You Want My Love. This one could even give the almighty Hank Sr. a run for his money in the broken heart department. Prepare to be torn apart by slow, eerie guitars, sparse percussion and agony-laden lyrics: My heart it was broken when you said¦If you want my love, you have to die for it. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be mine. Maybe? Damn, it doesn’t get much harsher than that.

The album was reissued on CD by Big Beat (Ace) with some great unreleased cuts along with some less charming Brit R&B imitations. The extensive liner notes feature an oral history by members of the band that may shed some light on the mystery of that damn egg. Read it and find out.

“A Basket Of Flowers”

[ Buy @ Amazon | Vinyl Search @ eBay ]