Replacements 9: All For Nothing

For years, rumors of a comprehensive set of outtakes from the Replacements’ time on the Twin/Tone label was said to be in the works, along with a rumor that such a thing couldn’t happen because Paul Westerberg stole the masters and dumped them all in one of Minnesota’s thousand lakes. Whatever the true story, fans got something of a gift with All For Nothing/Nothing For All, a double-CD set that offered four songs from each of the Sire albums on one disc, and 18 rare or unreleased tracks on the other. The cover art, seemingly depicting a sinking ship, was apt, along with the photos of the boys destroying one of their unfortunate rented vans throughout the booklet and images of beer mugs and urinals on the discs themselves.

The “hits” disc, a mix of rockers and sensitive ones, is fine, though everyone will have their own favorites that were left out. The second disc offers nuggets that would please even hardcore collectors. Some had already been B-sides, and others have since been appended to reissues of the albums themselves, but the selection and chronological sequencing make for a decent album’s worth of tunes. Highlights include: an earlier version of “Can’t Hardly Wait”; the brief but blatant “Beer For Breakfast”; vocal and writing debuts from Chris Mars (“All He Wants To Do Is Fish”) and Tommy Stinson (“Satellite”); “Date To Church” with Tom Waits; a sleazy take on “Cruella De Ville” from a Disney compilation; “Like A Rolling Pin”, a hoarse parody of a certain Bob Dylan song supposedly committed to posterity in the presence of the man himself; and their definitive crash through The Only Ones’ “Another Girl, Another Planet”. Stay tuned for the unlisted track at the end, a hilarious alternate version of “I Don’t Know”. (Also exciting for the mid-‘90s, these were enhanced CDs, with two music videos on each, accessible via the CD drive on computers. High tech!)

About a decade later, Rhino managed to grab the rights to the band’s Twin/Tone albums, and celebrated with a new compilation. Don't You Know Who I Think I Was? purported to offer “the best of the Replacements”, and the eight songs from the pre-Tim albums are excellent choices. (They even sound better.) All but six tracks from disc one of All For Nothing distill that period well, but the real cheese here are the two new recordings, the grand studio reunion of Paul, Tommy, and Chris (who didn’t play drums but sang, so they still count). Both “Message To The Boys” and “Pool & Dive” aren’t exactly lost classics, but drummer of choice Josh Freese, whom Paul had used on a solo album and Tommy knew from Guns N’ Roses, gets the wallop down to ensure the vibe is there.

The Replacements All For Nothing/Nothing For All (1997)—4
The Replacements Don't You Know Who I Think I Was?: The Best Of The Replacements (2006)—4

Peter Gabriel 5: Birdy

A hidden gem in his pantheon, Peter Gabriel’s soundtrack for the Alan Parker film Birdy is at the same time one of his least known projects and one of his most satisfying. The movie wasn’t a huge hit, and since Peter’s own snail’s pace work ethic meant that it wasn’t released until well after the film had left theaters, the album has gone largely unnoticed.

The argument could be made that since it consists of what its artist acknowledges as “recycled music with no lyrics”, it’s nothing more than a remix album. But that does it a disservice. True, most of the music originates from various songs from his last two studio albums, but for the most part, various textures are extracted to deliver a completely new atmosphere, resulting in a different effect. The track titles state the most obvious origins, but it’s still fun to pick out some of the more obscure sources.

“Birdy’s Flight” is used to great effect in the film, using a remix of the latter half of “Not One Of Us” for a wonderfully energetic accompaniment. Likewise, “Under Lock And Key” uses themes from “Wallflower”, itself a song about imprisonment, to illustrate the plight of the key character, both in the present and in flashbacks.

Even without seeing the film itself (which brings still another perspective to this music) it’s possible to be transformed to another place by just the music and titles. “At Night”, “Quiet And Alone” and “Slow Water” are ambient yet melodic tracks that show how easily Daniel Lanois was able to go from working with Brian Eno to assisting with this album. “Dressing The Wound” appears to be a non-recycled composition, its gentle piano setting up some trademark wordless vocals. Even “Slow Marimbas” would go on to be a feature in live performances down the road.

Due to its non-rock nature, Birdy is not for the casual listener, but fans of his oeuvre will enjoy it, partially as a stepping stone to his next project, and also as a precursor to his next work on a soundtrack. It’s a wonderful album for contemplation, particularly at night.

Peter Gabriel Birdy: Music From The Film (1985)—4

Grateful Dead 9: Bear’s Choice

Before leaving Warner Bros. to start their own label, the Dead apparently owed one more record on their contract. Thus began a vault-scraping tradition and industry that would balloon in only 20 years’ time. History Of The Grateful Dead, Vol. 1 (Bear’s Choice) would soon be known by its subtitle for easier reference, “Bear” being the nickname of their friend Owsley Stanley, who used to mix their shows in between concocting barrelsful of high-grade LSD. Recorded at the Fillmore East shortly after they completed Workingman’s Dead, it provides a nice counterpart to that album and American Beauty, with an acoustic side and an electric side, all covers leaning towards blues save one.

Pigpen had died by the time the album was released, so it stands as something of a tribute to him. He opens the set with “Katie Mae”, sung and played solo on acoustic, with some good-natured crowd banter to boot. Bob Weir sings “Dark Hollow”, and Jerry Garcia answers with “I’ve Been All Around This World”, both showing their roots well. Things pick up for a fun run through “Wake Up Little Susie”, which the crowd seems to both recognize and appreciate. The only tune known at the time of release from a Dead album is “Black Peter”, played here more slowly and sadly than the album version.

Side two gives the band more time to jam, Pigpen singing lead on both tunes. “Smokestack Lightning” is an 18-minute exploration of their early jamming roots, while “Hard To Handle” is now best known as that song the Black Crowes did. (One wonders whether they were more familiar with the Otis Redding original or this one.)

While there was never an official Vol. 2, the fourth release in the eventual Dick’s Picks series presented further selections from the same shows, heavy on the jam, spread across three discs. The eventual expansion of Bear’s Choice itself added only one song from the same shows, along with three songs from the Fillmore West the week before. (Other shows from the same general period would fill installments in other vault series, with others just as likely to follow in due time.)

The Grateful Dead History Of The Grateful Dead, Vol. 1 (Bear’s Choice) (1973)—3½
     Archival releases of same vintage:
     • Dick’s Picks Volume Four (1996)
     • Dick’s Picks Volume Sixteen (2000)
     • Download Series Volume 2 (2005)
     • Download Series: Family Dog At The Great Highway 2/4/70 (2005)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 6 (2013)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 10 (2014)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 19 (2016)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 30 (2019)
     • Dave’s Picks Volume 43 (2022)

Joni Mitchell 18: Hits and Misses

Amazingly, Joni had been in the business for nearly 30 years before somebody said, “Let’s do a hits album.” To which she replied, “Sure, as long as you put a ‘misses’ album out too.”

And that’s exactly what happened. Hits features a comedic cover shot of Joni lying in a street, presumably where the truck ran her over, whereas Misses depicts her drawing her chalk outline on the pavement—as she said, mooning the camera. Both albums were released simultaneously, and considering that the Hits volume was stacked with songs from Her First Four and Court And Spark, songs well known either in her renditions or in popular covers, it far outsold the sampler of lesser-known tracks that made up Misses. As something of a carrot for the fans, Hits begins with her only recorded version of “Urge For Going”, previously available only as a B-side. And while the program dwells mostly in that early era, “Chinese Café/Unchained Melody” and “Come In From The Cold” nicely represent the ‘80s and ‘90s respectively.

While Hits was a no-brainer, Misses rewards anyone brave enough to dive in. This set is not programmed chronologically at all, flying back and forth among the decades, with a slight emphasis on the Geffen years and “difficult” albums like The Hissing Of Summer Lawns. That said, fans familiar with the earliest albums will recognize “The Arrangement”, “A Case Of You”, and the title tracks from For The Roses and Hejira, the latter of which closes the set magnificently. They’re not all winners; later selections like “Nothing Can Be Done” and “Dog Eat Dog” are not our personal choices to advertise the lesser-loved albums, and the programmed sound of the newer tracks jars with the more pristine acoustic material, but if any of it gets people to dig deeper, it’s all good. The woman is, after all, an absolute treasure.

Joni Mitchell Hits (1996)—4
Joni Mitchell Misses (1996)—3

Jeff Beck 6: Blow By Blow

It took him long enough, but Jeff Beck finally figured out that he could record albums without a singer. Blow By Blow was recorded with a young rhythm section and Max Middleton from the second Jeff Beck Group.

The sound is a departure from the heavy rock of earlier Beck albums, leaning more on funk and now sounding more like fusion, beginning with “You Know What I Mean”, a James Brown strut filtered through the new decade. Especially notable on an album produced by George Martin, the Beatles’ “She’s A Woman” gets a nutty approach, with a reggae groove and, to help identify the song, a few lines “sung” through a talkbox effect usually associated with Peter Frampton. It’s a sound that seems to suggest the title of the next track, “Constipated Duck”, which doesn’t sound like one. For such a great title, it’s fairly brief before fading into “Air Blower” (called “AIR Blower” on pre-CD pressings, we assume as a nod to the studio where the album was recorded), an uptempo jam that slows down dramatically towards the end, leading into the extremely jazzy “Scatterbrain”, a furious fusion with tight precision and even a sympathetic string arrangement.

Stevie Wonder dominates the start of side two, first with “Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers” played beautifully and mournfully by Beck, and the highly funky “Thelonius”, with the man himself on clavinet (and more constipated duck sounds). After Max Middleton’s “Freeway Jam”, with its catchy hook and breezy groove, it’s back to a more dramatic sound. “Diamond Dust” is a haunting piece in 5/4, the guitar, piano, and strings complementing each other on a beautiful melody. (Interestingly, the song was written by a guitarist in a band featuring most of the former members of the second Jeff Beck Group.)

It’s not easy to write about an instrumental album, particularly one where the nuances are more abstract. Still, Blow By Blow finally shows Jeff Beck thriving, successfully making his way on his own terms. Not quite jazz, certainly not rock, just Jeff Beck.

Jeff Beck Blow By Blow (1975)—3½

Toad The Wet Sprocket 5: In Light Syrup

The ‘90s saw the explosion of movie soundtracks boasting contributions from the dozens of alterna-rock bands then jockeying for attention. It was a cheap way for the usual labels to front-load their retail cash-ins without having to license expensive tracks from elsewhere, and even when a movie didn’t do that well, the bands’ fans would have scarf the CDs up for that rare track they didn’t have.

At the same time, certain television shows had reached obsessive levels amongst their viewership that even they managed to inspire “soundtrack” albums. Thusly, devotees of shows like Friends, Ally McBeal, and even The X-Files could proudly display their allegiances with a simple jewel case.

These types of marketing partly explain how Toad The Wet Sprocket, after four albums with moderate sales, managed to amass enough tracks to fill up an album-length rarities compilation as a stopgap whilst recording their next album. Cheekily titled In Light Syrup, in a nod to the nutritional content might find in a can of fruit cocktail, it’s a decent set of soundtrack cast-offs, bonus tracks from CD singles (we used to call them B-sides), and a few nuggets previously known only to fan club members who treasured the occasional cassettes the band sent out.

These weren’t throwaways so much as songs they really did work on, but felt didn’t fit with the rest of the songs that were released on albums. (Or maybe they couldn’t find better titles than “All In All”, “All Right”, and “All She Said” once “All I Want” became their hit.) The soundtrack songs come first, and we do recall “Brother” and “Good Intentions” getting local airplay. Things get interesting once we dig deeper, such as the mild XTC influence on “Hobbit On The Rocks” and the even goofier “Janitor”. Musically, “So Alive” and “Chicken” sound like early U2, and other songs give more attention to Todd Nichols, who plays second fiddle even here.

Most of the tunes on In Light Syrup were recorded in the vicinity of Fear and Dulcinea, so there is a consistency in the sound. So while it’s very much for the fans trying to play catch-up, it’s also a worthy addition to the catalog. As the better mop-up sets should be.

Toad The Wet Sprocket In Light Syrup (1995)—3

Phil Collins 3: No Jacket Required

After years of slowly but surely dragging Genesis to the mainstream, Mr. Showbiz cashed in all his favors and got a major label push to get this into everyone’s house. No Jacket Required was so huge it didn’t even need “Easy Lover” (big hit duet with Philip Bailey the previous fall) or “Against All Odds” (a.k.a. “Take A Look At Me Now”, a movie theme song from a year earlier) or even “Separate Lives” (the so-called love theme from White Nights, a duet with Marilyn Martin, which came out that Xmas) to sell it. This thing was huge, even winning a Grammy. (We would be remiss were we not to mention Howard Jones’ hit remake of “No One Is To Blame” the following spring, featuring Phil on harmonies and boomy drums.)

Then, as now, there are exactly two songs we really, really like: the brooding “Long Long Way To Go”, which sounds most like his earliest solo experiments and features Sting on harmonies, and “Inside Out”, which sounds like “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” at half-speed, but works the simple theme well enough. It could almost pass for Genesis, even without the bridge that resembles “Taking It All Too Hard”.

The rest of the album is pure pop, heavy on the horns and synths, even further away from prog, with a distinct Prince influence on the more upbeat tunes (especially “Who Said I Would”). Which is fine, if you like that sort of thing. And the public did, eating up all the singles and loving all the wacky videos. Whenever we hear any of those songs—and “Sussudio”, “One More Night”, and “Take Me Home” are still in heavy rotation on the local “lite” radio stations—we’re reminded of a scorchingly hot summer sitting in front of an air conditioner, matching the sweaty guy on the album cover. (Patton Oswalt knows what we’re talking about.) Drop the phrase “great! great sandwich” into any conversation and see which of your contemporaries notice. Be forewarned that anyone who doesn’t remember the video for “Don’t Lose My Number” will be utterly baffled by the aside.

The CD version of No Jacket Required, for those early adopters, offered an extra track in the way of “We Said Hello Goodbye”, a nice midtempo ballad with an extended, moderately lush prelude, though something of an afterthought following the anthemic qualities of “Take Me Home”. It was included in the same spot on all reissues, as well as the 21st century “Take A Look At Me Now” edition, the extra disc of which (cheekily labeled Extra Large Jacket Required) was loaded with live versions of nine songs on the album plus “Easy Lover”, all recorded in the ‘90s save one. Demos of three eventual album tracks, none very illuminating, round out the disc, while fanatics bemoaned the absence of the B-sides “The Man With The Horn” and “I Like The Way”, and anything from 1988’s 12"ers compilation of six extended remixes.

Phil Collins No Jacket Required (1985)—3
2016 “Take A Look At Me Now” edition: same as 1985, plus 13 extra tracks