Queen 15: The Miracle

By the time Queen released The Miracle, many of their hard-rocking contemporaries had tried to market themselves to the hair metal crowd. Brian May could shred with the best of them, but that didn’t stop him or the other members of the band from experimenting with drum machines. If anyone was looking for a straight rock album, this wasn’t it. (The cover design was apparently supposed to signify unity, as demonstrated by the songwriter credits given to the band as a whole, and not individuals. Once you got past the frightening spectacle of the band sharing five eyes, you’d’ve noticed Freddie’s mustache was gone.)

Clattery percussion introduces the upbeat “Party”, which sounds nothing like them save Freddie Mercury’s voice and some of the guitar parts. It doesn’t sound like the kind of party their fans would attend. There’s a sharp edit into “Khashoggi’s Ship”, which is even more removed from the real world by referencing a billionaire arms dealer over the kind of funk-metal riffs lesser bands were pushing at the time. The title track is much more complex, with faux-classical touches, and humanistic lyrics that would be better served as an actual Christmas song. There’s a tempo change near the end to allow for some finger-tapping, then the original tempo change and melody come back for a reprise that’s better than all that came before. The expressed hope for peace on earth and such is brushed aside by the more demanding “I Want It All”, a more straight-ahead radio-friendly track that unfortunately brings to mind Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka. Despite its overblown aspects, it’s a decent track. But “The Invisible Man” sounds like the work of Roger Taylor, who didn’t realize he was ripping off “Ghostbusters”, which itself ripped off “I Want A New Drug”. The most interesting parts of the track are where each member is introduced by name.

It’s been a while since we’ve had a lush, operatic Queen track, and while “Breakthru” starts that way, the rest of the song is shackled to a burbling synth, redeemed only by the admittedly catchy choruses. This one is just screaming for an overhaul. The same might be said for “Rain Must Fall”, with its carnival-style Latin percussion and already dated synth effects. Still very much of its time but somehow successful—even if it does sound like a musical rewrite of “Radio Gaga”—is “Scandal”, which addresses the journalistic muckraking various band members had experienced in recent years. Yet after that high point comes the half-assed “My Baby Does Me”, which has enough changes and guitar parts to deserve real drums and better lyrics. Hindsight may suggest that “Was It All Worth It”—besides being the very question the listener might be asking by the end of the album—is something of an end-of-life statement, but the faux-mystical intro, pounding arrangement, and the orchestral interlude straight out of a sci-fi soundtrack take any gravitas into parody.

The band did not tour behind the album, for reasons yet to be revealed, but it was something of a hit, particularly on CD, where it had three extra tracks. The first expansion of the album contained those, plus an extended version of “Scandal”. That last track was not included on the next expansion 20 years later, but the others were, along with two more B-sides and demo and extended mixes of “The Invisible Man”.

These additions paled to the contents of 2022’s The Miracle—Collector’s Edition, which added four CDs worth of material, much of it previously unreleased. A “sessions” disc offered an hour of demos and early takes—most of which are more appealing than the overproduced final tracks, and include studio chatter—including the rediscovered “Face It Alone”, the all-Freddie “When Love Breaks Up” that spawned “Breakthru”, a couple of nice Brian sketches, and other unfinished tracks. Another disc collected all the extended versions and contemporary B-sides, another had all backing tracks, and radio interviews filled up the fifth. Videos and more interviews were on both DVD and Blu-ray, and the behemoth even included the album on vinyl, with the then-outtake “Too Much Love Will Kill You” in the middle of the first side. (A two-CD version consisted of the album and sessions discs.)

Queen The Miracle (1989)—2
1989 CD: same as 1989, plus 3 extra tracks
1991 Hollywood reissue: same as 1989 CD, plus 1 extra track
2011 remaster: same as 1989 CD, plus 4 extra tracks
2022 Collector’s Edition: same as 2011, plus 34 extra tracks (plus DVD, Blu-ray, and LP)

Neil Young 76: Second Song

Ever since Neil Young got divorced, his albums have increasingly referenced his own life, more directly and blatantly than they did for the first fifty years of his career. We only mention this because it’s all there in the lyrics; he stops just short of naming names when it comes to his family, but doesn’t hold back when he’s yelling about current events. And the first good thing about Second Song is that there is no yelling, at all, anywhere. Rather, it’s a pensive reverie by an 80-year-old man who knows, as they say, his time ain’t long.

“The Foggy Edge Of Time” wanders in on repeated piano notes and presents something of a memoir and explanation for his recent life change (spoiler alert: alcohol appears to have been a problem for somebody) while Micah Nelson’s atmospheric guitar and an uncredited Mellotron add to the dreamy vibe. Three familiar chords drive “Day After Day”, which acknowledges both the hardship and the wonder of life, while soft harmonies and Spooner Oldham’s piano make for a simple but catchy chorus. “Earth Girl” is an unabashed tribute to his wife, using as many references to nature and the sky that he can find. The title track is the album’s centerpiece, and not just because it’s over eleven minutes long. It’s another observation of the world, nicely accompanied by video taken driving around his old ranch, with harmonica breaks, vibraphone strikes, and Micah exploring a dulcimer. There are chord changes beyond the basic them, and at the very end he finds a motif he repeats a couple times, which helps shape the journey.

The new songs weren’t enough to fill an album, so he went back into his archives—not for the first time—to re-record a couple of oldies. “Casting Me Away From You” was a demo recorded in 1965 with friend Comrie Smith, then the melody turned up as “The Emperor Of Wyoming” on his first solo album. The lyrical content is very much the opposite of his current relationship songs, but newcomers will enjoy hearing references to other tunes. A blast of fuzz guitar that’s not really that loud but startling because it’s the first time we’ve heard one opens “Soon I Might Be Going”, yet another rumination on passing time, this one over nine minutes. He mentions the current president and the literal demolition of the White House, but that’s a precursor to noticing how things are changing in towns all over, and that he might not be around to seeing what happens next. Rather than end the album on a downer, he goes back in the past again. “I’ll Love You Forever” was first recorded way back in 1964 with his first band, The Squires; this new version is a little slower, but replicates some of the seashore effects from the original, as well as the tremolo guitars. It also resonates in his current life, so there you go.

There is a lot of sameness throughout Second Song, between the recycled melodies and chord changes. It’s not the masterpiece some have touted, and we suspect we like it simply because many of his albums in this century have sounded made up on the spot. It’s easy to enjoy and while slow, doesn’t take up a lot of time. (The After The Gold Rush lettering on the cover is a nice touch too.)

Neil Young & The Chrome Hearts Second Song (2026)—3

Bill Wyman 4: Willie And The Poor Boys

1985 was the year of benefit music releases, dominated by “We Are The World”, Live Aid, Farm Aid, and “Sun City”. But another project got some notice, seeing as it was organized by Bill Wyman in the wake of the ARMS concerts, which raised awareness and assistance for Ronnie Lane of the Faces, who was suffering from a debilitating case of multiple sclerosis.

Despite its inevitable confusion with a certain Creedence Clearwater Revival album, the eponymous album by Willie and the Poor Boys was a fun little collection of ‘50s covers, played by a core band of Andy Fairweather-Low, Mickey Gee and Geraint Watkins from Dave Edmunds’ band, and drums shared between Charlie Watts, Kenney Jones, Henry Spinetti, and Terry Williams. Everyone except the drummers took turns on lead vocals; Bill himself stuck mostly to bass, but does a decent job on “You Never Can Tell” and the only mildly cajun “All Night Long”. Paul Rodgers and Jimmy Page, then busy in The Firm, get the spotlight on two tracks: overtly on Otis Redding’s “These Arms Of Mine” and less so on “Slippin’ And Slidin’”. But the lead single and best track was “Baby Please Don’t Go”, featuring Chris Rea.

The album came and went, and about seven years later Bill put together a new version of the band anchored by Gary Brooker for a few shows, in something of a preview of what he’d pursue with the Rhythm Kings after he left the Stones. A live album appeared to little fanfare, but it was included in the double-disc Poor Boy Boogie along with its older brother in 2006, and about ten years later in The Complete Willie And The Poor Boys, which also included a DVD containing a documentary, the video for “These Arms Of Mine”, and the original promotional film. This charming little piece had the band miming to the songs in a retro setting with poodle-skirted dancers and slick spivs, though Ronnie Wood’s drunken miming on sax under his badly hidden rooster haircut kept it anachronous. Ringo even had a cameo, without beard or mustache, as a janitor.

Willie And The Poor Boys Willie And The Poor Boys (1985)—3

David Bowie 48: The Shel Talmy Recordings

Back in 1965 somehow an 18-year-old kid got the attention of Shel Talmy, the expatriate American producer who’d already started making hits with The Kinks and The Who. First as the long-haired frontman of the Manish Boys, then with a mod coif in Davie Jones & The Lower Third, he gamely tried to become the next big thing, and those attempts can be heard throughout The Shel Talmy Recordings. While his voice is certainly recognizable, he hadn’t become David Bowie yet, literally or figuratively.

The Manish Boys only managed one single; on “I Pity The Fool”, the band is augmented by horns and a certain Jimmy Page on noticeable guitar, while “Take My Tip” features his own saxophone. The later sessions as the Lower Third yielded eight tracks in addition to another single, “You’ve Got A Habit Of Leaving” and “Baby Loves That Way”. Besides being two of the best songs here, they would be revisited 35 years on during the Toy sessions. Both of these also sported some of the distortion and feedback familiar from tunes like “Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere” and “You Really Got Me”. That’s even more blatant on the unreleased “I Want Your Love” and “Keeping Up With The Jones” instrumental. The other tracks, all written by him, aren’t exactly buried treasure, from the one-chord slog of “Cupid” to tough-guy love laments like “Leave Her To Me”, “You Gotta Tell Her”, and “Glad I’ve Got Nobody”. When any piano is heard, it’s Nicky Hopkins; the other musicians are competent but average.

The set presents the dozen Talmy productions out of chronological order; alternate vocals for the four songs released on singles are included at the end of the CD version. The handful of acoustic demos with an unknown accompanist show he wasn’t tied to R&B, as predict his infatuation with crooners like Anthony Newley and Scott Walker. “Today” is rather striking, from its sophisticated chords and harmonies, “I Live In Dreams” is an idea he’d keep pursuing, and “Bars Of The County Jail” is ahead of its time, to be polite.

Some of this material, along with his first single with the King Bees and songs from a later period with producer Tony Hatch, made up Rhino’s Early On (1964-1966) compilation in 1991. It’s probably just a matter of time before the estate repackages those somehow. As for The Shel Talmy Recordings, the sound is as good as it will likely get, and the liner notes tell the most complete story of this era yet.

David Bowie The Shel Talmy Recordings (2026)—2½

Grateful Dead 24: Dick’s Picks Volume One

Only two installments into the Dead’s “From The Vault” series came another release program that actually became an ongoing series that lasted into the next century. Dick’s Picks were named for Dick Latvala, who not only maintained the band’s archive of recordings but constant communication with fans in chat rooms on the emerging internet. The recordings he chose were all good if not pristine, being basic two-track stereo as opposed to multitrack; hence the “caveat emptor” note inside all the releases. The packaging was simple yet clever: the first six used a tape box format for the cover design, which was followed by a flying carpet motif for the next six, then six with tie-dye, six with a lightning bolt, an outlier for #25, five with a postage stamp, and six with a crazy lightshow pattern. The series was supposed to be available only by mail order, though outside the US some volumes could be found at retail. Starting in 2011, the Real Gone label began reissuing them on CD, and some on vinyl for the first time.

So how would a project like this kick off? They chose a December 1973 show—a period that would be revisited on ten subsequent vault digs and counting, as shown below—and it’s, well, okay. Bill was the only drummer, and Donna was off having a baby; in fact, she’s credited alongside the other musicians as “giving birth”. The songs include selections from the new Wake Of The Flood album, with detours to “Big Railroad Blues” and Johnny Cash’s “River”. While there’s certainly a continuity to the album, it’s not the complete show, and songs from the second set are interspersed among songs from the first set, which ends along with disc one with a 20-minute “Playing In The Band” that still omits an alleged bass solo. Disc two picks up the second set from “He’s Gone” into “Truckin’”, which meanders into “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” and meandering jam that finds its way to a couple of minutes of “The Other One” before descending into a feedback-laden drums ‘n space segment. This slows way down for “Stella Blue”, speeding up just a hair to close with Chuck Berry’s “Around And Around”.

Eighteen months went by before a second volume appeared, after which the series continued with a release schedule of three and eventually four a year. It wasn’t until the fifth volume that complete concerts began being released—in sequence, unless a song was missing for whatever reason—once the archivists realized Deadheads would gladly shell out for a three-disc package. Sometimes, to fill in extra disc space, “bonus” tracks would be included from a show in the same period. The occasional two-disc set still happened but #20 was the first of eight sets to contain two shows on four discs; #29 had two shows on six. (By that time the producers had been “flying in” elements of other shows as “patches” to cover missing content and preserve flow.)

Dick curated the first 16 installments, and the series continued for six years after his death with another 20 under the supervision of archivist David Lemieux, who was born a week after American Beauty came out. By that time the Download Series had started, resulting in 13 shows released over the space of a year, then the Road Trips series of tour highlights provided 19 installments over the next four years. In 2012, the Dave’s Picks series began issuing four shows a year, and it’s still going. (The first of these consisted of a show that took place within days of Dick’s Picks Volume Three; the road goes ever on indeed.)

Grateful Dead Dick’s Picks Volume One (1993)—3
     Archival releases of same vintage:
     • Dick’s Picks Volume Fourteen (1999)
     • Dick’s Picks Volume Nineteen (2000)
     • Download Series Volume 8 (2005)
     • Winterland 1973: The Complete Recordings (2008)
     • Road Trips: Vol. 4, No. 3 (2011)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 5 (2013)
     • 30 Trips Around The Sun: The Definitive Live Story 1965-1995 (2015)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 38 (2021)
     • Listen To The River: St. Louis ‘71 ‘72 ‘73 (2021)
     • Wake Of The Flood: 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition (2023)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 58 (2026)

Nilsson 14: That’s The Way It Is

Since he still had a record deal after years without hits, RCA decided they were entitled to tell Harry Nilsson what kind of album to make. Looking at his successes, that meant a big-time producer and radio-friendly tunes. And if he couldn’t write any, he should cover some. And that’s pretty much what he did on ...That’s The Way It Is, which followed his last album by six months.

A lovely rendition of “That Is All”, a hidden gem by George Harrison, would seem to set a tone somewhere between romance and the standards tackled on A Little Touch Of Schmilsson In The Night. His voice is better, but not back to his peak. The same lush approach is applied to a medley of the oldies “Just One Look” and “Baby I’m Yours”, sung as a duet with latter-day Supreme Lynda Laurence, who just happened to be married to the producer, and we can just hear a touch of disco seeping in. He wrote “Moonshine Bandit” himself with Danny Kortchmar, and if this was the only song in his catalog that used steel drums, it would be plenty, as it’s pretty decent. Possibly most worrying is a cover of America’s “I Need You”, which was a top ten hit around the time of his last one, and given a delivery that clearly is trying to be another “Without You”, but with mild histrionics bordering on satire. It’s back to doo-wop for “A Thousand Miles Away”, but about a minute in he introduces another vocalist—“the one and only Tony La Peau”—to finish it for him amid canned applause.

Being a Randy Newman, he clearly understood the underlying irony in “Sail Away”, but gives it another sumptuous reading that disguises the racism and horror within. Amazingly he didn’t write “She Sits Down On Me”, as the idea of being the boyfriend of a tattooed lady is right up his alley, but unfortunately the punchline of the title is given away in the first verse, and the rest of the song can’t sustain the joke. “Daylight Has Caught Me” was written with Dr. John, and almost sounds like an Elton John pastiche along the lines of “Honky Cat” and such. The steel drums return for the calypso favorite “Zombie Jamboree (Back To Back)”, and his voice is very raspy by now, but this fades into a lush reprise of “That Is All”, a cappella with layered harmonies that might actually be all him.

It’s hard to tell from listening whether he was at all proud of ...That’s The Way It Is. The cover shows him reading a copy of Penthouse magazine with bottles, food, records, and other magazines strewn about a cluttered room. A copy of Duit On Mon Dei (with God’s Greatest Hits, his original intended title) is on the back cover, not far from a poster of Eldridge and Beaver Cleaver. That was about as funny as the label would let him be, but nobody was laughing about the dwindling returns.

Nilsson ...That’s The Way It Is (1976)—2

Beach Boys 6: All Summer Long

By now the Beach Boys were in direct competition with the Beatles, and Brian Wilson was determined to make albums of their quality, even in the chopped-up versions Capitol concocted from the British sequences. More and more he was utilizing members of the Wrecking Crew in the studio along with the Boys themselves. But he still had a brand to maintain, so All Summer Long kept up the image of fun, fun, fun in the sun, sun, sun.

It was also required by law to start an album with a hit single, and with “I Get Around” they had a well-deserved #1 amid some pretty stiff competition that didn’t sport harpsichords. The title track is a slightly better thematic rewrite of “Keep An Eye On Summer”, but it’s so singalongable that you may not notice the marimbas and piccolo solo. “Hushabye” was a cover of a doo-wop tune, and another nice showcase for their harmonies; now we can hear a touch of “Heroes And Villains” in the opening and closing piano. A twist on the car theme comes in “Little Honda”, a paean to the Japan-manufactured motorcycle with a chorus that must have written itself. (We suspect they were gunning for an endorsement, or at least free bikes.) “We’ll Run Away” is a rather simpering tune about kids who really, really wanna get married, but it likely reflected Brian’s own feelings about his girlfriend Marilyn, who was all of 16, and only six months away from becoming the first Mrs. Wilson. Whereas Dennis got namechecked on the last album, “Carl’s Big Chance” lets the youngest Wilson solo over standard changes from a Marvin Gaye song. Frankly, he plays better elsewhere.

For more of a progression, “Wendy” is very unconventional, from its tentative intro, through the Four Seasons-style vocal arrangement, the organ solo, and the throwback in the coda; an arrangement worthy of George Martin. Given the era when it was written, “Do You Remember?” can be heard as a reminder to American fans about the rock ‘n roll pioneers who inspired their British idols. Typical for Brian, it’s barely 90 seconds long, but seems longer. Much more complicated is “Girls On The Beach”, which still recycles phrases from “Surfer Girl” and other dreamy Brian concoctions. “Drive-In” continues the summer theme, and it is kinda funny, though Mike Love is a little too old to be singing about such mischievous antics. “Our Favorite Recording Sessions” is more unfortunate filler, two minutes of chatter without context and blown takes that only serves to set up “Don’t Back Down”. This would be their last song overtly about surfing for some time, but at least the attaboy sentiment is universal, and Brian’s falsetto counterpoint to the main melody is still impressive.

All Summer Long showed that Brian was growing more innovative, but he was still shoehorned into the same old message, and the pressure of touring while keeping up with a release schedule affected the quality. Clearly, he needed more time and space to create.

The associated bonus tracks on the two-fer CD included striking alternate takes of “Little Honda” and “Don’t Back Down”, plus the eye-opening “All Dressed Up For School”. Beyond the “Louie Louie”-style opening, its lyrics were a little too excited about how much the subject of the song had grown up. As this was to remain an outtake, Brian would use the melody for at least two other songs down the road. (Some fifty years later, the streaming-only Keep An Eye On Summer compilation provided further peeks into the sessions for this album and others.)

The Beach Boys All Summer Long (1964)—2½
1990 CD reissue: same as 1964, plus Little Deuce Coupe album and 4 extra tracks