Brian Eno 30: Secret Life

By the time he was 75 years old, Brian Eno had more than a couple generations of musicians who’d been influenced by his work. One such person was Fred Gibson, also known as Fred again.. (with two periods), a DJ and producer who worked with Eno on his collaborations with Karl Hyde. While keeping eyes and ears on each other since, the Covid pandemic gave them a chance to collaborate fully and at their own pace.

Secret Life is mostly an ambient album, in that it has little to no tempo and relies mostly on muted electric pianos and other keyboards. But Fred does provide vocals, equally inspired by those of his older partner. His other trick is to interpolate other people’s songs—as he does on “Secret”, from a Leonard Cohen song, and John Prine on two others—and sample vocals from a variety of sources. Those contributors are acknowledged in the same list as the other engineers and producers.

For the most part the album floats along, but “Enough” and “Trying” have more prominent vocals and energetic backing melodies that refuse to stay in the background, particularly when the static is mixed up. What little percussion the album has comes from the sampled voices. There’s so much Fred here it’s not clear what Eno brought to the table, but that was probably the point.

Fred again.. Brian Eno Secret Life (2023)—3

Warren Zevon 1: Wanted Dead Or Alive

The man who would one day be called one of the best American songwriters of his generation had a slow start to notoriety. Warren Zevon’s first recordings were as part of a Sonny & Cher-styled psychedelic duo called lyme & cybelle, then he wrote some songs for the Turtles. In 1970 his first album came out, credited under his surname and produced by entrepreneur and sexual predator Kim Fowley. While Wanted Dead Or Alive does have some of the style and idiosyncrasies that would become his hallmark, it’s very much stuck in its time. With backing mostly by future Byrd Skip Battin and onetime Love drummer Drachen Theaker, it’s got a clunky sound that occasionally veers into studio trickery. The man himself plays all the guitars, mostly in a blues style, and piano.

Fowley supplied the title track, which is still suited to Zevon’s vocal, even where double-tracked. “Hitch-Hiking Woman” also drives a simple riff into the ground, but the first real showcase for his talent is “She Quit Me”, which had already been covered for the Midnight Cowboy soundtrack, and here is just his acoustic guitar, voice, and wailing harmonica. (Thankfully, he’d back off from the vibrato in the future.) “Calcutta” is another dirty blues, supposedly written by one Xavier Fletcher and something of a prediction of the first Crazy Horse album. And then there’s his cover of “Iko Iko”, wherein his signature piano flair is drowned out by kids singing along playground-style.

On side two we get music that most resembles his later work, from the lyrics to the arrangements, though some of the embellishments on “Traveling In The Lightning” are a bit much. “Tule’s Blues” is a mostly country strum with all the instruments mixed high, which is also the case with the darkly humorous spoof “A Bullet For Ramona”, though somebody else supplied the lyrics. “Gorilla” is more sludge over mostly one chord that kills three minutes on an already short album, whereas “Fiery Emblems” is an intricate instrumental with changing time signatures, a swirling coda, and what sounds like backwards drums throughout.

While he did have his champions at this early stage, Wanted Dead Or Alive did have enough of an original sound, nor the industry clout, to make much of an impression. Much like Harry Nilsson’s debut album, it remains a curio.

Zevon Wanted Dead Or Alive (1970)—2½

Jimi Hendrix 12: Live At Winterland

Just in time for the music industry’s celebration of the 20th anniversary of the Summer of Love came the first “new” Jimi Hendrix album specifically designed for the CD market. The first product of Rykodisc’s brief affiliation with the Estate, Live At Winterland was compiled from a three-day residency at a converted San Francisco ice skating rink the week Electric Ladyland was released. The compilers had six shows to choose from, and only repeated one performance from The Jimi Hendrix Concerts.

By this time his manager was professionally recording his concerts, so the source used was superior to anyone’s bootlegs. This CD was produced by Alan Douglas and future Beach Boys catalog maven Mark Linett, and they did a decent job of presenting the trio as they were, seamlessly blended to simulate a single show. After Bill Graham’s introduction (a Douglas trope), they plow through “Fire” and “Manic Depression”, then Jimi provides an explanatory intro for a jam on Cream’s “Sunshine Of Your Love”. “Spanish Castle Magic” is marred by buzzing amplifiers, and he acknowledges the absence of “Red House” from the American version of his first album. Jack Casady of Jefferson Airplane sits in on bass for “Killing Floor”; “Tax Free”, an instrumental familiar from War Heroes, gets an eight-minute excerpt. From there it’s a good run through “Foxey Lady”, “Hey Joe”, and “Purple Haze” right into “Wild Thing”. All in all, a solid listen. (Five years later, the album celebrated an anniversary of its own with the release of Live At Winterland+3, containing—you guessed it—three more songs on a 30-minute bonus disc, including a lengthy exploration on “Are You Experienced”.)

In this century, once the Estate realized that fans would be interested in multi-disc archival digs, the shows were mined for a four-CD package simply titled Winterland. However, as would be their wont, they still took liberties with history, by curating a disc each from each day’s two shows, and adding a fourth of “extras” from three of the shows, bolstered by an interview conducted two months earlier on the opposite coast. (Amazon customers got another disc with a little over a half an hour of music from eight months earlier at a different Bill Graham venue, most of which was previously released as an official bootleg, and notable for the first collaboration with Buddy Miles, on a cover of “Dear Mr. Fantasy” in two pieces because the tape ran out. Meanwhile, a single disc of Winterland “highlights” muddied up the discography further.)

Being a new mix spearheaded by Eddie Kramer, the sound is different from the Rykodisc releases; they even restored Herbie Rich’s organ and Virgil Gonsalves’ flute on songs where they’d been omitted earlier. But there was still some editing and combining of performances to enhance general listenability, and some chatter heard on the old CDs didn’t make it. There is naturally repetition of several songs, but he never played anything the same way twice, and for the most part the set focuses on songs that enabled his soloing as opposed to just playing the hits and familiar album tracks, which he does too. (“The Star-Spangled Banner” makes two appearances, once of which is compiled from two performances; the October 11 “Voodoo Child” remains exclusive to Live At Winterland+3, but at least the set included full versions of songs included on The Jimi Hendrix Concerts, which had since been deleted.) Nearly five hours of music is a lot to take in, but it’s educational to hear him in an environment where he could settle in for a stint and stretch, rather than just rush from town to town and show to show.

The Jimi Hendrix Experience Live At Winterland (1987)—3½
1992 Live At Winterland+3: same as 1987, plus 3 extra tracks
The Jimi Hendrix Experience Winterland (2011)—3½

Elton John 27: Greatest Hits Volume III

The live album notwithstanding, 1987 was Elton John’s first year without new material since his first album. But thanks to the label switch, he still had product in the racks. Somehow Geffen was able to license two tracks that were on MCA, which is how a third volume of so-called greatest hits happened, ten years after the last one, and mere months after Live In Australia came out.

Side one is indisputably strong, proof that even his lesser albums had great songs. It’s hard to argue with this lineup: “I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues”; “Mama Can’t Buy You Love”; “Little Jeannie”; “Sad Songs”; “I’m Still Standing”; “Empty Garden”. We’d like to say the same for side two, but these particular hits just aren’t as strong. Much as we like “Kiss The Bride” and “Blue Eyes”, “Heartache All Over The World” is just too fluffy, and “Too Low For Zero” hadn’t even charted as a single. “Nikita” belongs here, of course, but “Wrap Her Up” was likely included due to the presence of George Michael, then riding high with Faith.

Only five years later his catalog was standardized worldwide, with everything in the US reverting to MCA (even though Geffen was part of MCA by this time anyway). Because of licensing and whatnot, songs on the second hits album had been switched, but that meant that “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word” and “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” were now selling points on the revamped Greatest Hits 1976-1986. Best of all, those songs replaced “Heartache” and “Too Low For Zero” figuratively and literally, and the set even added “Who Wears These Shoes?”

The sequence was different from the Geffen album, shuffling the “new” songs on side one of the cassette—there was no LP version, being 1992—and going chronologically for side two. Geeks like us also appreciated the copious track information, including players and even recording dates. While the cover photo reflected the year of release and not the material, it’s still a strong collection, and preferred to its first incarnation.

Elton John Elton John’s Greatest Hits Volume III 1979-1987 (1987)—3
Elton John Greatest Hits 1976-1986 (1992)—3½

Marshall Crenshaw 13: Jaggedland

It should be clear that Marshall Crenshaw wasn’t made for whatever times he’s in, but that doesn’t mean he’s out of place. Jaggedland was his first album after a six-year stretch, and an apt title for the guitar sound of this music, which always sounds like it’s being played in a big room.

“Right On Time” mentions Bobby Vinton in the first line, but we should assume his fanbase will get the reference. The edginess turns pensive on the softer, slower “Passing Through”, but things pick up a tad on “Someone Told Me”, with lots of sliding guitars. He overdoes the title of “Stormy River”, but for stupid rock ‘n roll peppered with sound effects, it’s tough to beat “Gasoline Baby”. “Never Coming Down” is full of unexpected chord changes, fittingly matching the portrait he’s painting, and “Long Hard Road” offers a little more hope. Violin and cello color the instrumental and complex title track and the jazzy “Sunday Blues”. The mood finally becomes hopeful on “Just Snap Your Fingers”, and “Eventually” sports some of his classic hooks and harmonies. The pedal steel suggests a lowkey closer, but “Live And Learn” hitches a gallop for its looking back.

The backing as usual is stellar, including Crenshaw regulars Diego Voglino and Greg Leisz, along with Jim Keltner, the MC5’s Wayne Kramer, and percussionist extraordinaire Emil Richards. As had been his wont of late, Jaggedland isn’t a sunny pop album, but it is consistent with his catalog.

Marshall Crenshaw Jaggedland (2009)—3

Queen 12: Hot Space

While the band had proved they could evolve with the times, with Hot Space Queen seemed to go completely off the rails. There’s no mistaking that voice for Freddie Mercury, but especially with the dearth of guitars, much of the album sounds little like the Queen everybody (thought they) knew.

The band that boldly eschewed synthesizers now embraced keyboards and drum machines, and with Arif Mardin-arranged horns, “Staying Power” was an ironic title in a country that rejected disco. “Dancer” is a slower strut that improves whenever the guitars come in to crunch, especially that nutty solo, but most of it is burbling funk. “Back Chat” sounds even more like Chic than “Another One Bites The Dust” did, and the canned drums, which now sound so generic from countless records, do not help at all. We will admit that the tune isn’t that far off from the type of dance songs the Rolling Stones had put out recently. “Body Language” was the first single (and video) released for the album, almost all Freddie and synths; the reaction of many suburban kids was that it sounded “kinda gay,” which was Freddie’s point, of course. Then there’s Roger Taylor’s “Action This Day”, which has an incessantly pounding beat, subtle guitars, but rhythm piano for a trashy sound. An unexpected neo-classical flourish heralds a surprising saxophone solo.

Side two is a major improvement. “Put Out The Fire” finally, mercifully, has some Brian May riffing for a potential stadium anthem. What’s not immediately obvious is the song’s anti-gun content, culminating in cries of “shoot!”, which set up “Life Is Real”, subtitled “Song For Lennon”, and written in memory of the fallen Beatle. The somber mood is fleeting, as Roger’s pro-love “Calling All Girls” uses prominent 12-string acoustic guitars but still sounds robotic; the video doubled down on that feeling. The sentiment continues on “Las Palabras De Amor”, helpfully subtitled “The Words Of Love” for those who don’t speak Spanish, driven by swirling arpeggiated keyboards, real drums, and gang harmonies. The lazily jazzy “Cool Cat” now sounds like a template for George Michael, particularly in the falsetto vocal approach. A very trying album closes with “Under Pressure”, the untouchable duet with David Bowie that had already appeared on the American Greatest Hits, but not elsewhere.

Hot Space was not a hit in America, and was seen as something of a stumble around the world. Some of the songs would improve onstage, but it would take some time for the band to recover commercially. The U.S. took even longer to come around, by which time it was too late. (The first CD reissue included a new remix of “Body Language” with guitar and piano added, which was not included in the expanded CD two decades later in favor of three live tracks from 1982, the remixed single version of “Back Chat”, and the vintage B-side “Soul Brother”.)

Queen Hot Space (1982)—2½
1991 Hollywood reissue: same as 1982, plus 1 extra track
2011 remaster: same as 1982, plus 5 extra tracks

John Entwistle 6: The Rock

Back in 1985, both Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey were enjoying solo success, particularly in the wake of The Who’s reunion at Live Aid. But John Entwistle didn’t have the same luck. He put a band together, first with Barriemore Barlow of Jethro Tull on drums, soon replaced by young Zak Starkey. Other musicians came and went, eventually settling on a lineup fronted by singer Henry Small and dubbed The Rock. In between wine deliveries and excursions to various pubs, an album was completed, but Entwistle didn’t have any pull at the labels, and there it sat.

Ten years later, the Canadian label Griffin Music had made some inroads releasing CDs of licensed BBC sessions and reviving careers of various classic rockers and hair metal refugees needing a home. That made it a perfect place for The Rock, which went from a limited self-produced release sold at club shows to wider distribution. But what people finally got to hear likely didn’t impress them. Instead of John Entwistle’s unique style and sense of humor, he was reduced to the level of sideman. He doesn’t sing at all anywhere, and only plays horns on one track, though his distinctive bass is discernible in the busy mix, and most prominently on the four songs he actually wrote. “Last Song” even shares something of a keyboard hook with “Had Enough”. Of the rest, “Stranger In A Strange Land” has a decent hook, probably because it was co-written by Eddie “I Think I’m In Love” Money and the guy responsible for “Take My Breath Away” from the Top Gun soundtrack. “Suzie” would appear to be another horny love song, but the “spank the monkey” chant gives away the plot. The overall effect is an album that could have been recorded by the late ‘80s version of Bad Company. That didn’t prevent it from being reissued ten years later, with bonus tracks (including a demo with his own vocal on “Love Doesn’t Last”) and repackaged with its older brothers in a box set in 2024.

It also didn’t stop Rhino from getting in the act the same year with a solo compilation. Thunderfingers purported to offer “the best of John Entwistle”, which in their minds meant two-thirds of the album devoted to selections from his first two solo albums. The next three albums were represented by two songs each, but at least they had the brains to end with “Too Late The Hero”. The liner notes also included commentary from the artiste for each of the songs therein, which was nice, particularly since these albums had yet to make it to CD in America. (A decade later, as they had with Roger Daltrey, the Sanctuary label followed the expanded reissues of John’s albums with a double-disc anthology that went a little deeper, but also relied on later live performances for filler.)

John Entwistle The Rock (1996)—2
2006 Sanctuary reissue: same as 1996, plus 5 extra tracks
John Entwistle Thunderfingers: The Best Of John Entwistle (1996)—3