Yes 9: Yesterdays

By now Yes were ready for a break, and who could blame them. While the key members worked on the requisite solo projects, the label bided their time with a compilation. Yesterdays didn’t have to stretch too much for a title, as it was built around tracks mostly from the era of their first two albums, a.k.a. the ones before Steve Howe. The big draw—outside the Roger Dean artwork, and we could do without the kid taking a leak on the back—were the non-album tracks making their first appearance on a Yes LP, and which bookend this one.

“America”, here in its full ten-minute splendor, is a molecular reconstruction of the Simon & Garfunkel album track, incorporating motifs from the unrelated song of the same title from West Side Story (clearly an influence on the band from the beginning). This is the only track here with Howe and Rick Wakeman, who are revved up and restrained, respectively. Of their epics, it’s not their best, but it’s still a good setup for “Looking Around” from the debut, which is itself followed nicely by “Time And A Word”. “Sweet Dreams” interestingly sits in the same side-ending slot as it did on the second album. Unfortunately, side two drags a bit, although “Then”, “Survival”, and “Astral Traveller” are undeniable harbingers of their later developed sound. The orchestrated “Dear Father” was the B-side of “Sweet Dreams” and a good place for it, as the religious hand-wringing doesn’t really suit them.

Yesterdays is redundant in the CD era, as the first two albums have never gone out of print, and the rarities have become standard bonus tracks. But it arguably chose the best tracks to satiate those waiting for the next big statement—or spur new initiates to fill in their racks—while sending some cash Peter Banks’ way.

Yes Yesterdays (1975)—2½

Kiss 14: Killers

The band’s rep had hit such a nadir by 1982 that their label—Casablanca no longer being the money chute it once was—fast-tracked a new Kiss compilation. They even insisted the band record new songs for it, but figured the band was such a lost cause that they didn’t bother releasing the set in the US or Canada.

Everything about Killers screams budget release, from the tacky lettering on the front to the garish pink triangle on both sides. There was no special inner sleeve, or any shilling for merchandise. Outside of the new songs, the balance is made up by older hits, all album tracks and some repeated from Double Platinum. Worst of all, Gene is shown with short hair, and Paul has a bandana. But since American veterans of the Kiss Army had to get it somewhere, they might have been surprised to see the alternate band logo on the German version of the album, as that country didn’t like how the “SS” in the regular version resembled that of Hitler’s Schutzstaffel. (The kids also would have had to find the Japanese and Australian editions of the album, each of which added two catalog songs, one of which was “Shandi”.)

Paul sings all the new ones, beginning with “I’m A Legend Tonight”, which is better than its chorus, save for the muffled drums. He yells his way through “Down On Your Knees”, which crams an awful—and we do mean awful—lot of clichés into three and a half minutes. This masterwork was co-written with Bryan Adams, of all people. Unfortunately, these only highlight the lyrical shortcomings of “Cold Gin” and “Love Gun”. “Shout It Out Loud” is the single mix, and “Sure Know Something” is one of the two “later” songs.

Paul wrote “Nowhere To Run” all by himself, and the best of the new songs musically; too bad he couldn’t think of a better chorus than “Nowhere to run/Nowhere to hide”. He also didn’t notice that “Partners In Crime” mentions someone being “down on your knees”; this riff deserved a better home too, and the canned horn blasts don’t help. It’s back to the hits with edited versions of “Detroit Rock City”, “God Of Thunder”, and “I Was Made For Lovin’ You”, ending with the Alive! version of “Rock And Roll All Nite”.

Even the hits can’t save this album. But being what it was, Killers was a popular import for decades, particularly since the four new songs wouldn’t be collected on any other compilation until the 21st century. By that time the album was made available for streaming, incorporating the three songs from the Japanese and Australian sequences. And in 2022, those four rarities were included in the Super Deluxe Edition of Creatures Of The Night.

Kiss Killers (1982)—2

Steely Dan 8: Reissuin’ The Years

Way back in 1978, as part of a last gasp by ABC Records before being swallowed up by MCA—and knowing the band wouldn’t have any other product out soon—a Greatest Hits album by Steely Dan hit the shelves in time for the holiday buying season. This two-record set was packed to capacity, literally and figuratively, going through the band’s six albums to date in order, and leaning heaviest on Pretzel Logic. Twelve of the songs had actually been singles, but the biggest draw at the time was “Here At The Western World”, an decent unreleased tune from the Royal Scam sessions.

Not included on the set, likely because ABC didn’t have the rights to it, was the superior standalone single “FM”, recorded for the soundtrack of the movie of the same name. This was, however, included on 1982’s Gold, a typically thrown-together MCA compilation that also included “Hey Nineteen” and “Babylon Sisters” from Gaucho and five earlier album cuts seemingly chosen at random. At least it filled two sides of a record.

Three years later, to appeal to the burgeoning CD market as well as audio snobs who wanted slick recordings with which they could demonstrate the new hifalutin technology, A Decade Of Steely Dan took ten tracks from Greatest Hits and added the three later songs from Gold (also substituting “Deacon Blues” for “Josie”), all in a pre-shuffled order. The cover art made no sense, but at least the insert included musician credits for each track.

That set became the go-to Steely Dan hits CD, which meant “Here At The Western World” was left in limbo in the digital age. This was rectified in 1991 when Gold was reissued in an “Expanded Edition”, which tried to compensate for duplicating four songs on Decade by adding “Western World” along with some other rarities. Two were Donald Fagen solo tracks that had appeared on two very different movie soundtracks; the mostly instrumental “True Companion” from Heavy Metal is very Dan-like, while the slick “Century’s End” from Bright Lights, Big City isn’t. Perhaps most enticingly, a hot live “Bodhisattva” from 1974 that had appeared eight years later as the B-side to “Hey Nineteen”, of all things, rounded out the disc. Besides being one of the few recordings of the band as a touring outfit, it sports a lengthy inebriated and censored introduction from one of their roadies. (While originally recorded on cassette, some of the song’s vocals sound too clean to not have been overdubbed after the fact.)

By now the box set industry was in full swing, and Steely Dan had their turn in 1993; plus, they were on tour to promote Fagen’s new album. Citizen Steely Dan crammed all six albums in sequence onto four CDs, with the occasional track swap for an “enhanced” listening experience at the start and/or end of some discs. The live “Bodhisattva” was inserted in place between Pretzel Logic and Katy Lied, just as “Western World” and “FM” bookended the Aja selections. Beyond those, the sole rarity was a 1971 demo of “Everyone’s Gone To The Movies” stuck at the end of disc four, eschewing their other oft-bootlegged, early work and even both sides of their long-lost first single, which both guys said they hated. (Their active involvement with the set was borne out by the meticulously remastered contents—though they forgot to include the intro of “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number” in the first pressing—along with particularly sardonic and occasionally hilarious liner notes printed in an annoying all-caps font.)

That should be sufficient for anyone, but the allure of disposable income is too much for any record executive to resist, and why would they. At the turn of the century, Showbiz Kids did a nice job of expanding the original Greatest Hits onto two CDs, complete with the requisite dip into Gaucho, the inclusion of both “FM” and “Western World”, and finally acknowledging “Dirty Work” and “Aja” as essential, though perhaps at the expense of “East St. Louis Toodle-oo”, which is no real loss. Six years later, The Definitive Collection proved to be false advertising by sticking to a single CD and featuring a song from each of their 21st-century albums. At least it included “Dirty Work”.

Steely Dan Greatest Hits (1978)—4
Steely Dan Gold (1982)—3
1991 Expanded Edition: same as 1982, plus 4 extra tracks
Steely Dan A Decade Of Steely Dan (1985)—3½
Steely Dan Citizen Steely Dan: 1972–1980 (1993)—3½
Steely Dan Showbiz Kids: The Steely Dan Story, 1972–1980 (2000)—4
Steely Dan The Definitive Collection (2006)—3

John Cale 6: Slow Dazzle

Having found a sound he liked, John Cale kept going. Slow Dazzle presented another set of mature, obscure rock disguised as pop, with the help of Roxy refugees Eno and Manzanera, but notably brought guitarist Chris Spedding into the fold. The result is a mostly straight-sounding album that lists steadily toward madness.

With just a hint of the Philly sound, “Mr. Wilson” acknowledges the influence of the head Beach Boy without aping him in the slightest. “Taking It All Away” recalls the chamber pop of Paris 1919, and is the first hint of remorse over a failed romance. The irritated narrator of “Dirtyass Rock ‘N’ Roll” uses onomatopoeia to convey how it soothes his soul, while “Darling I Need You” is greasy ‘50s rock right down to the sax solo and “Rollaroll” could easily be sung by Bryan Ferry, but he might not have taken Cale’s lead, which was to start to howl as the song fades.

Such an unsettling sound is carried over onto side two, where Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak Hotel” is transformed into the soundtrack to a horror film. By comparison, “Ski Patrol” would appear to be a celebration of the fine workers who perform such a task at the world’s resorts, but there’s a good chance it could also be cocaine. “I’m Not The Loving Kind” would be an obvious cover choice for any adult contemporary crooner worth his salt, if only for the lovely wordless melody that makes up most of the choruses. The opening line of “Guts” makes plain why his marriage was currently in the toilet, and his anger increases over the end of the track much like “Fear”, except that the band keeps going. None of this can prepare the listener for “The Jeweller”, a Kafkaesque short story recited even more unsettlingly than “The Gift” over droning and controlled feedback.

Slow Dazzle is not an easy listen, but it’s right in line with his then-current trajectory. Chances are most people diving in without warning would swim for the ladder as soon and as fast as possible, but those who can take it will find possibly his most consistent album yet.

John Cale Slow Dazzle (1975)—3

Jayhawks 7: Rainy Day Music

Having proven that they could stretch outside the box, the Jayhawks took advantage of the alt.country wave of the 21st century and went back to the well, so to speak. Rainy Day Music pared the group back to the core of Gary Louris and Marc Perlman, supported by the stalwart Tim O’Reagan on drums and harmonies and former Long Ryder Stephen McCarthy on the other guitars and stringed instruments. With the help of producer Ethan Johns, scion of the legendary Glyn, and a sessioneer on most of the keyboards, the sound was pared back too, without excessive fuzz or feedback, giving the songs room to breathe.

Proof that they’ve gone back to basics is evident immediately on “Stumbling Through The Dark”, with its prominent banjo. “Tailspin” has a little more crunch, but gets its boost from a great chorus and a terrific countermelody from Tim. “All The Right Reasons” brings the proceedings back to just above a hush, at least until the drums kick in, and “Save It For A Rainy Day” is one of those catchy songs we could swear we’ve heard before. There must be a reason why the protagonist of “The Eyes Of Sarahjane” spells her name that way, but it still sounds like a chorus matched to a completely unrelated verse. Not quite as schizophrenic is “One Man’s Problems”, which skirts with funk when it’s not going for California pop. Both are eclipsed by Tim’s “Don’t Let The World Get In Your Way”, which even has a Mellotron.

Others have noted that the second half isn’t as strong, but that’s not to say it’s not good. “Come To The River” goes for a soulful Southern rock vibe, and “Angelyne” manages to get a new song out of the same chords that launched a thousand Byrds and Petty knockoffs. “Madman” is another vibe peace, with swampy bongos and acoustic guitars under close harmonies. While very much related to “Waiting For The Sun” musically, with more acoustic touches, “You Look So Young” succeeds, particularly in the breakdown and subsequent bridge. Tim contributes another strong one, “Tampa To Tulsa”, while “Will I See You In Heaven” comes solely from the pen of Marc, who does not sing it. The closing reprise of “Stumbling Through The Dark” only helps to suggest that the album does seem to run long and gets too quiet at times.

Despite that, Rainy Day Music is nice and cozy for any kind of weather, and a welcome change of pace. It also helped that the American label’s new distribution deal with Universal brought them within the purview of the Lost Highway imprint, which gave it decent promotion among people interested in Ryan Adams and the like.

As was common at the time, a limited edition package included a bonus CD titled More Rain, which included the rockin’ “Fools On Parade”, two demos of otherwise unreleased songs, two alternate versions of album tracks, and a live acoustic take of “Waiting For The Sun”. These songs were not included on the expanded reissue some ten years later; instead five different, previously unreleased demos and another live cut were crammed onto the end of the disc.

The Jayhawks Rainy Day Music (2003)—3
2014 Expanded Edition: “same” as 2003, plus 6 extra tracks

Brian Eno 27: Mixing Colours

We don’t know if being Brian’s younger brother has done Roger Eno any favors, but he has managed to build up a catalog of his own brand of ambient music over the decades. Mixing Colours was the Enos’ first released collaboration in decades, and it was apparently built over a period of 15 years.

The brief is very much like the albums Brian did with Harold Budd—Roger plays gentle keyboards, mostly in the acoustic or electric piano family, and Brian treats the sound or adds his own touches. Each track’s title is derived from a specific shade or tint, so whether or not they convey an accurate representation of a mood is up to the individual. That being so, we found “Snow” to be very pretty and engaging, even before we checked to see what it was called. “Celeste” seems to be one of the more musically developed pieces, as opposed to a sketch, and “Slow Movement: Sand” does convey a certain majesty as it builds. By comparison, “Desert Sand” is dominated by a Brian texture right out of 1976. “Obsidian” breaks from the mold with an organ-based sound, tempered by the more chamber-nursery tone of “Blonde”. The album is easy to have in the background, so one might not notice that the melody of “Spring Frost” turns up again an hour later as “Cerulean Blue”, for example.

Mixing Colours was released at the start of the COVID lockdown, and provided a companion for enforced solitude. Some time afterwards, the Luminous EP presented another seven tracks by the duo, which may be easier to ingest as a shorter program. These were then inserted into the album’s original sequence, which was rereleased as Mixing Colours Expanded. All together, it’s pleasant aural wallpaper from the family dynasty that invented it.

Roger Eno and Brian Eno Mixing Colours (2020)—3
Roger Eno and Brian Eno Luminous (2020)—3

Elton John 24: Ice On Fire

For his next trick, Elton wrote an entire album with Bernie Taupin, brought back Gus Dudgeon to produce, but overlooked his trusty rhythm section to rely on hired guns and threw himself back into the ‘80s. After all, Bernie was fresh off the success of “We Built This City” for Starship. But perhaps the biggest crime about Ice On Fire was the mullet.

Typical of its era, “This Town” sounds like the theme from a buddy cop soundtrack, and even though the horns are real, they sound canned, and Elton’s delivery is near rap. And that would indeed be Sister Sledge on the backing vocals. At least “Cry To Heaven” is a return to a piano ballad, and it mostly works except for the stock Yamaha DX-7 chime that will always sound like a Taco Bell commercial. Despite the cringey lyrics, “Soul Glove” is generically catchy, with a popping bass by Deon Estus, who’d recently worked with Wham! (More on them later.) “Nikita” was the surprising first single, a non-binary-specific love song with allusions to Soviet relations in the thawing of the Cold War. “Too Young” features the Queen rhythm section, not that you’d notice, particularly with subject matter that would make Benny Mardones blush.

Credited to six writers, “Wrap Her Up” is excruciating enough for George Michael’s falsetto response to every line, and gets worse with the litany of female icons over the end, ranging from Marilyn Monroe to Nancy Reagan. “Satellite” is loaded with wacky space effects and an intro that sounds like a ripoff of Bowie’s “Fame”, but the song itself mostly improves on that. Unfortunately, “Tell Me What The Papers Say” is completely cheesy in a not-good way, and the fake horns cover up the bass and piano way too much. “Candy By The Pound” might have potential if not for the robotic backing. All this makes the closing ballad “Shoot Down The Moon” both welcome and frustrating.

The cassette and CD included an extra track in “Act Of War”, a duet with R&B singer Millie Jackson that completely jarred at the end of the program. For some reason this was not included on the eventual expanded CD, which instead added three live songs used as B-sides as well as “The Man Who Never Died”, an instrumental written for John Lennon. No version of the album included the all-star single “That’s What Friends Are For”, wherein Elton sang with Dionne Warwick, Gladys Knight, and Stevie Wonder. This was a charity single released to raise money for AIDS research, which would become a key campaign for Elton once he got sober. But that was some time away.

Elton John Ice On Fire (1985)—2
1999 CD reissue: same as 1985, plus 4 extra tracks

Who 17: Who’s Last and Shea Stadium

Following Pete Townshend’s statement saying the band was done, there were rumors of a live album in the works that would encompass The Who’s entire career. Instead, the following Xmas saw the release of Who’s Last. Instead of a retrospective, the album consisted solely of performances taken from the 1982 farewell tour. And since it was on MCA, nothing from the ‘80s was included.

This is the showbiz Who, going through the motions, delivering the hits, with Pete playing the Schecter Telecaster copy that always sounded like his chorus pedal was jammed in the full position. It takes balls to include songs already perfected on Live At Leeds, and superior versions of “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” were on The Kids Are Alright. Most of the tracks are padded front and back with audience noise. At least John Entwistle gets the last word with his shredding vocal on “Twist And Shout”, and Kenney Jones plays with more fire throughout the album than he demonstrated on any of his Who studio recordings. Except for the backing tapes to “Who Are You” and the Who’s Next tunes, any keyboards heard are provided by Tim Gorman, cruelly called “Jim Gorman” in the liner notes, adding to the shoddiness of the package. Despite occasional moments—such as the rockabilly coda to “Long Live Rock”—Who’s Last proved to be about as inspired as its title.

It took forty years, but they finally got around to releasing a complete show from this tour, but only after it had been released on DVD and Blu-ray that went out of print. They weren’t the first band to play Shea Stadium since the Beatles, but they were certainly the biggest, cramming the field over two nights. As it was about three weeks into the tour, they were up to speed and not yet worn out. (The final show from Toronto has been on video for years, and throughout that Pete looks as uncomfortable as his haircut.)

Live At Shea Stadium 1982 is taken from the second night, and being able to hear a complete set already puts it above Who’s Last. The mix is good, making the keyboards more audible, especially when they pan across the stereo spectrum. Roger’s in good voice as ever, Pete and John less so, but Pete’s sobriety kept him on track. And since they weren’t just playing the hits, but promoting the new album, the setlist is more balanced. Once they get the newer songs out of the way, they start dipping into the past. Pete does a verse of “I’m One” solo before the band crashes in for “The Punk And The Godfather”, and “Drowned” jams for nine minutes. They even play “Tattoo” for some reason, though Pete blows the first chorus, and include “I Saw Her Standing There” in the encores. It’s a long two hours, and not stellar, but better than what we had.

The Who Who’s Last (1984)—2
The Who Live At Shea Stadium 1982 (2024)—3

Queen 9: The Game

Like most bands, a live album presented something of a chapter break for Queen, who leapt right into the ‘80s with The Game. There wasn’t a complete overhaul of their sound, but everyone except Brian May had shorter hair, and while he doesn’t have it on the cover, the inner sleeve shows Freddie with his new mustache.

Right away it’s clear that the band’s legendary aversion to synthesizers has passed, as “Play The Game” whizzes into place, but it soon turns into a standard if Beatlesque piano-driven piece from Freddie, with lots of layered harmonies and guitar bursts. (The video is worth watching for its now hilariously dated green screen effects and the freeze frame on each of the singers in turn, as well John Deacon, who of course never sang a note in the band and so just stands there.) “Dragon Attack” has a terrific snaky riff and a vocal not too far removed from “We Will Rock You”. This might have pleased those who weren’t happy with the overt funk of “Another One Bites The Dust”, the smash single that definitely sold the album. Deacon wrote it, as well as the more rocking “Need Your Loving Tonight”. The other draw was the undeniably catchy, rockabilly-tinged “Crazy Little Thing Called Love”, which had been a single a full six months before the album came out.

“Rock It (Prime Jive)” begins with Freddie singing over a slow arpeggiated guitar, but the tempo changes and Roger Taylor takes over, its stupidity underscored by a cheesy organ. But for the handclaps, things get darkly humorous with “Don’t Try Suicide”, a track that otherwise sounds directly derived from “Walking On The Moon” by the Police. “Sail Away Sweet Sister”, sung mostly by Brian, is more somber but not mournful, and we wish the instrumental coda was longer. Roger brings back the stupid with “Coming Soon”, but Brian rises to the occasion with “Save Me”, an expression of empathy that could have been on any of their earlier albums.

Even with the modern touches, The Game is one of their better albums, and a return to form. Some of the credit could go to their new co-producer, who at this time was known only as “Mack” and apparently kept them reined in. They still sounded like Queen, and that’s all that mattered. (The routine modern remix on the 1991 reissue—this time of “Dragon Attack”—was again ignored for the later expansion, which instead included two live versions, the contemporary “A Human Body” B-side, the first take of “Sail Away Sweet Sister”, and a snippet of the unfinished “It’s A Beautiful Day”.)

Queen The Game (1980)—3½
1991 Hollywood reissue: same as 1980, plus 1 extra track
2011 remaster: same as 1980, plus 5 extra tracks

Neil Finn 7: Out Of Silence

Always into doing something different, Neil Finn’s next move was to rehearse and record an album quickly, and in front of an audience. But Out Of Silence wasn’t just another live album—its production was livestreamed, which wasn’t a common thing in those days. Another unique aspect is that he wrote (and played) the songs on piano, adding another facet to his style. Sons Elroy and Liam add bass and drums where requested; throughout, strings and a small choir of singers add color.

The electronic effect at the start notwithstanding, “Love Is Emotional” sets the bittersweet template, continued on “More Than One Of You”. Beginning with some spooky vibes, “Chameleon Days” is a little more experimental sounding, or maybe it’s just his falsetto vocal. Arpeggiated guitars drive “Independence Day”, which gets a terrific lift for the choruses. Brother Tim shows up for “Alone”, derived from the works of British author Mervyn Peake.

Keeping it in the family, wife Sharon co-wrote “Widow’s Peak”, another poetic reverie. “Second Nature” picks up the pace with the most accessible track here. He gets mildly political on the pleading “The Law Is Always On Your Side” and “Terrorise Me”, the latter of which echoes “Edible Flowers”. These make “I Know Different”, while weary, something of an expression of hope.

Out Of Silence can be a little precious at times, but it’s certainly a welcome departure. A lot is packed into its 35 minutes, and it may be his finest solo work yet.

Neil Finn Out Of Silence (2017)—3

Jerry Garcia 8: Almost Acoustic

Multiplatinum success wasn’t going to slow Jerry Garcia down any, and just because the Dead didn’t have any gigs booked didn’t mean he wasn’t going to play somewhere. For a few months in 1987 and 1988 he did a series of shows with a group that augmented a few members of the Jerry Garcia Band with old friends David Nelson (of New Riders of the Purple Sage) and Sandy Rothman plus a fiddle player. Hence, the Jerry Garcia Acoustic Band.

The repertoire was primarily folk and blues, not as extreme as the bluegrass of Old & In The Way but certainly connected. Almost Acoustic presented a grab bag of tunes recorded during stands in Frisco and L.A. and released on the Dead’s own label for the new generation of Deadheads to snap up for their CD players. These kids would have been familiar with the likes of “Deep Elem Blues” and “I’ve Been All Around This World”, and of course the closing “Ripple”, but they might not have expected the original song about Casey Jones. In the process they would become more familiar with the work of Mississippi John Hurt, Elizabeth Cotten, Jimmie Rodgers, and so forth.

The playing is relaxed and friendly, the crowd noise appreciative but not distracting. Jerry’s voice is a bit rough, but he’d been through a lot lately. Luckily the other pickers sing, and they harmonize well. And if you like this, there’s more where it came from, as seen below.

Jerry Garcia Acoustic Band Almost Acoustic (1988)—3
     Archival releases of same vintage:
     • Pure Jerry: Lunt-Fontanne, NYC, 10/31/87 (2004)
     • Pure Jerry: Lunt-Fontanne, The Best Of The Rest (2004)
     • Ragged But Right (2010)
     • On Broadway: Act One (2015)
     • Electric On The Eel (2019)

Gram Parsons 2: Grievous Angel

By the time Grievous Angel came out, its auteur was dead, just short of the magical age of 27. This has had a lot to do with Gram Parsons’ hagiographical status, but the key to the album—and its success—is Emmylou Harris, who harmonizes on nearly every track. Having many of the same solid players on board, none of whom were as debilitated by drink and drugs as he was, helped too.

For all its Nashville trappings, “Return Of The Grievous Angel” is not your ordinary country song, loaded with sly imagery and changes. “Hearts On Fire” is another weeper, Emmylou’s control tempering his wavering. The uptempo “I Can’t Dance” has some tasty guitar work but is just a brief tangent. “Brass Buttons” is a lovely sad lament, and “$1000 Wedding” is even more heartbreaking; both are excellent cases for his songwriting.

The atmosphere changes abruptly for “Medley Live From Northern Quebec”, which isn’t a medley at all but “Cash On The Barrelhead” followed by his own “Hickory Wind” with canned crowd noise and fake patter added in, basically used to keep the album over half an hour. “Love Hurts” was tackled a full year before Nazareth got to it, and here it’s milked for all the tears it can wring. “Ooh Las Vegas” is a jaunty rewrite of “Mystery Train” written with Ric Grech and left over from the first album, while “In My Hour Of Darkness”, written with Emmylou is stately and profound, ultimately lifting the album above its older brother.

And that was pretty much it for Gram Parsons, though his music certainly endured. Warner Bros. thoughtfully paired GP with Grievous Angel on a two-fer cassette in the ‘80s, then issued them together on a single CD in 1990, providing excellent value for fans old and new. In 2006, in time for what would have been his 60th birthday, The Complete Reprise Sessions put each album on its own disc with interview snippets afterwards, and added a third disc of alternate takes.

Gram Parsons Grievous Angel (1974)—3½

Phil Collins 14: The Singles and Plays Well With Others

The “Take A Look At Me Now” series of Phil Collins album reissues was certainly ambitious, and considering how quickly it come to completion, mostly successful. (Your move, Paul McCartney.) However, many of the hit singles that appeared on movie soundtracks over the years were not included near their most obvious albums, and a high volume of B-sides and other oddities were also passed over on the various bonus discs in favor of demos and live versions of often anachronous origin.

But he didn’t make it this far in the biz being a dope. Just in time for his autobiography to hit bookshelves came a compilation—his third—called The Singles. This was available two ways: a three-disc version in chronological order, and an abridged version that shuffled 33 of the songs into one mostly upbeat mix and one mostly slow one. (It also contains everything on …Hits.) Anyone who truly cares will half to have the big set, but considering that half of the third disc is made up of songs from Tarzan and Brother Bear, that makes it easy to skip it.

Two years later, an even more ambitious project emerged. Plays Well With Others was a sprawling four-CD set highlighting his guest spots on albums going all the way back to 1969. The first disc goes up to 1982, touching on sessions he did for the likes of John Cale, Brian Eno, Robert Fripp, John Martyn, and Peter Gabriel, his furious side trips with Brand X, and production jobs for Robert Plant and ABBA’s Frida (represented by the smash hit “I Know There’s Something Going On”). The second disc is a little less eclectic, with production work for Eric Clapton, Philip Bailey, and Stephen Bishop, as well as more obvious hits like Howard Jones’ “No One Is To Blame”, Tears For Fears’ “Woman In Chains”, and even “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” by Band Aid. (His version of “Burn Down The Mission” from the Elton John tribute album Two Rooms appears as well.)

By the third disc we’re in the ‘90s, which here is dominated by more John Martyn productions, session work for David Crosby, and his own appearances on soundtracks and tribute albums. “No Son Of Mine” appears here too for some reason. But there is some jazz work, with Quincy Jones and Fourplay. This continues on the fourth disc, which pulls from three decades’ worth of live appearances, but the jazz is tempered by all-star turns from Prince’s Trust concerts and such. For all the trashing he’s gotten over the years, including by this very forum, it’s easy to forget that he was a very inventive drummer in his prime.

A year after that, further strays from the Collins catalog were finally collected, albeit digitally. Other Sides contained 90 minutes of B-sides—including “The Man With The Horn” and several revealing demos—that still should have been parceled out to the proper album reissues, while Remixed Sides ran to two hours’ worth of extended versions to appease anyone who loved 1988’s 12"ers compilation or needed all four versions of “Hang In Long Enough”.

Phil Collins The Singles (2016)—3
Phil Collins Plays Well With Others (2018)—3½
Phil Collins Other Sides (2019)—2½
Phil Collins Remixed Sides (2019)—2

Bryan Ferry 9: Mamouna

As it turns out, writer’s block had kept Bryan Ferry from releasing a new album for so long, and only Taxi was able to break it. Working with Robin Trower must have helped too, as he’s credited as co-producer on Mamouna as well. The rhythm section was generally Nathan East and Steve Ferrone, then on loan from Eric Clapton. Even more interesting is the occasional presence of Brian Eno, who had legendarily fallen out with Ferry in the early days of Roxy Music.

Not much has changed since the last time, as “Don’t Want To Know” burbles with the same grooves that have dominated his work over the previous ten years. But for some street noise, “N.Y.C.” is straight-ahead Nile Rodgers funk with Maceo Parker guesting on sax. “Your Painted Smile” and “The Only Face” get the mix of mood and melody right, but in between, the title track follows on “To Turn You On” without the emotion.

“The 39 Steps” is just another groove with occasional soundbites that have us wondering what the song has to do with the film (any version). The heartbreak comes through big time on “Which Way To Turn”, but it’s the insistent “Wildcat Days” that really stands out, being co-written with Eno and also featuring Andy Mackay on sax somewhere in the mix. (He’s also credited on the mildly swampy “Gemini Moon”.) On “Chain Reaction”, he finally remembered how to write a song instead of just riding a groove, and the female vocals here are very effective.

Too much of Mamouna sounds the same, and like more of the same. But longtime fans seeking more of the same will be very pleased with it. There is definitely a flow, but if there’s any kind of story here, it’s buried.

As the album approached its 30th anniversary, an expanded package included not only the original shelved version of the album, which was to be titled Horoscope, but a third disc of “Sketches”, providing a first-ever glimpse into his creative process. Now it’s hard to hear what was wrong with Horoscope, as “Where Do We Go From Here” (the template for “The 39 Steps”) crackles with more menace, “The Only Face” is more direct, and “Desdemona” is just as solid without Maceo or Nile. “S&M (Midnight Train)” and “Loop De Li” would eventually emerge twenty years later on another album; here they provide a welcome lift (the former more than the latter, but still). “Gemini Moon” is less processed than the final version. “Raga” breaks out of the monotonic backing with some intriguing touches, but it was likely the tepid ten-minute overhaul of “Mother Of Pearl” that gave executives pause. (This was eventually used for a movie soundtrack.)

Most of the “Sketches” are instrumental—some dating back to 1989—which helps provide some musical contexts amid the finished grooves. “Robot” is a generic Ferry-by-numbers idea that matches its title for six minutes, while “Horoscope” itself has some interesting textures but with a woman’s spoken voice too high in the mix. “Your Painted Smile” and “The Only Face” each appear in strikingly intimate piano-and-vocal renditions that have us wishing he’d do more albums with performances just like them.

Bryan Ferry Mamouna (1994)—2½
2023 Deluxe Reissue: same as 1994, plus 18 extra tracks

Clash 8: Story Of The Clash

Maybe it’s just us, but the distance between 1983 and 1988 seems a lot wider than other five-year spans within decades. So when it came out, the double-LP retrospective The Story Of The Clash, Vol. 1 seemed like an overdue look back to a much different time. The back cover nicely noted the release dates of each track, while the gatefold liner notes in miniscule print by one Albert Transom (aka Joe Strummer) bordered on stream of consciousness without really illuminating the music. (The UK version of the album had custom labels with each member’s face on a different side, while the US were stuck with stock Epic labels.)

The chronology seems to go backward, but still has something of a logic to it. Anyone who only knew Combat Rock might have been thrown by the near-disco opener in “The Magnificent Seven” before getting to the songs they already knew. Another funk-dub hybrid, “This Is Radio Clash”, makes its first album appearance, and “Armagideon Time” is nicely given a bigger platform. Side two further explores the pop-leaning side, via such favorites as “Train In Vain” and “I Fought The Law”, but also curveballs like “The Guns Of Brixton” and “Bankrobber”.

The other two sides of the album are mostly devoted to the first two albums and the earliest punk singles; of course, some of those had been included on the American version of the first album, so they weren’t as rare for us. (Also, “Capitol Radio” is the original UK EP version with the interview snippet at the top.) But for a jump to “London Calling” and “Spanish Bombs”, the set ends well on “Police And Thieves”.

Naturally, anybody would say that four sides of Clash music would leave something out—only two tracks from Sandinista!?—but a Volume 2 never happened. Instead, once everybody started getting a box set, the Clash did too. Clash On Broadway was designed for CD as opposed to vinyl or cassette, and therefore at three discs had than double the capacity of Story Of The Clash.

Along with all the key albums, singles, and B-sides, box sets had to have rarities. Disc one delivers with demos of “Janie Jones” and “Career Opportunities” produced by Guy Stevens, and live versions of “English Civil War” and “I Fought The Law”. American consumers would have appreciated the songs from the first UK album, which hadn’t made it to CD yet. Disc two is dominated by Give ‘Em Enough Rope (plus the decent outtake “One Emotion”) and London Calling, while the third disc features a live “Lightning Strikes (Not Once But Twice)”, a soulful cover of “Every Little Bit Hurts”, the outtake “Midnight To Stevens”, and the unedited take of “Straight To Hell”. While not listed anywhere, “Street Parade” ends the set.

In the 21st century, box sets were expected to include absolutely everything if consumers were going to buy them again. Sound System—cleverly designed like a boom box—offered the first five albums on eight discs, plus two discs mopping up singles, B-sides, and outtakes, rounded out by alternate mixes of Combat Rock material. Another disc had nine early demos and six live songs from the Lyceum in 1978. Even with all that, only six of the rarities from Clash On Broadway were included in the set, making that first box a keeper.

Sound System also contained a DVD and piles of ephemera, which made the eight-disc 5 Album Studio Set, designed like a road case, a cheaper option. Or you could spring for the newly curated, less obvious The Clash Hits Back two-disc set, which was derived from a 1982 gig setlist, and we’d be interested in hearing the actual gig. It was also 20 minutes shorter than 2003’s more chronological The Essential Clash, which happened to be the only one of these compilations to include anything from Cut The Crap.

The Clash The Story Of The Clash, Vol. 1 (1988)—4
The Clash Clash On Broadway (1991)—4
The Clash The Essential Clash (2003)—3½
The Clash Sound System (2013)—3½
The Clash The Clash Hits Back (2013)—3½

Iggy Pop: The Bowie Years

David Bowie used his cachet to help—for lack of a better word—some artists who might have remained cult figures had he not championed them. In some cases, like Dana Gillespie and Ava Cherry, it didn’t exactly work, but Lou Reed and Mott The Hoople could certainly attribute some of their longevity to his patronage.

Then there was Iggy Pop. Bowie loved the garage anarchy of the Stooges, and helped get their Raw Power album onto shelves. (He also appropriated Iggy’s croon into his own vocal styles.) A few years later, both Bowie and Iggy were trying to get off drugs, so they went to France and then Germany to work as artists. Between them they completed four albums that were all released in 1977, and all remain high points of their respective catalogs.

Everything on The Idiot was written by the pair, backed by Carlos Alomar and the rhythm section of George Murray and Dennis Davis. While still trashy (“Funtime” and “Baby”), Bowie’s arty tendencies took over to slow the music down and find grooves. “Sister Midnight” and “Nightclubbing” paint vivid pictures of their lifestyle, while “China Girl” would one day get a new lease on life. “Dum Dum Boys” is something of a lament for old bandmates, “Tiny Girls” sports a doo-wop saxophone, and “Mass Production” turns the drone of “Station To Station” into something more robotic. Besides being removed from the assault of the Stooges albums, The Idiot is a startling album, but now we can hear it as very much a blueprint for bands like Joy Division, as well as what would become side one of Low.

To promote the album, Bowie actually went on tour with Iggy, playing keyboards and adding vocals alongside the Sales brothers (Tony on bass and Hunt on drums and vocals) and guitarist Ricky Gardiner. Then the band went right back into the studio to record Lust For Life. This time Iggy was more in charge, relying less on Bowie to provide music and scenarios, and it works. It also rocks, from the Motown-derived pounding of the title track through “Sixteen” and “Some Weird Sin”, the latter of which sports some wonderful backing Bowie vocals. Ricky Gardiner’s chords drive “The Passenger”, but “Tonight” is most striking if you’ve only heard Bowie’s tame cover, which doesn’t include the prelude. The call-and-response of “Success” is just plain hilarious, making the pleas in “Turn Blue” even more arresting. “Neighborhood Threat” would also get a Bowie remake one day, while the band swapped instruments for the trashy “Fall In Love With Me”.

By the time Lust For Life came out, Bowie was busy recording his own “Heroes” album, so Iggy ended up touring the album with future Heartbreaker Scott Thurston and Stacey Heydon replacing Bowie and Gardiner augmenting the Sales brothers. TV Eye 1977 Live, released a year later, was split between shows played by the two bands, and for the longest time was the only evidence of Bowie’s onstage work with Iggy. The sound is bootleg quality, recorded and mixed on the cheap to get out of his label contract, but still crackles with energy—or at least power when the songs slow to a crawl—particularly on the Stooge classics “T.V. Eye”, “Dirt”, and “I Wanna Be Your Dog” and the rare “I Got A Right”.

All three albums would become cult classics despite low sales, and all three were included on 2020’s comprehensive The Bowie Years box set. A disc of negligible single mixes and alternate takes is capped by the Bowie-produced “I Got A Right” single and an recent interview with Iggy, while three discs present three live performances with mostly identical setlists and Bowie on board, from London’s Rainbow, Cleveland’s Agora, and a Chicago radio station. These vary in quality, but we do hear pre-studio renditions of “Turn Blue”, “Tonight”, and “Some Weird Sin”, as well as further Stooge favorites. (Meanwhile, Deluxe Editions of The Idiot and Lust For Life were each bolstered by a live disc: the Rainbow show from the box for the former, and TV Eye for the latter.)

Iggy Pop The Idiot (1977)—3½
2020 Deluxe Edition: same as 1977, plus 15 extra tracks
Iggy Pop Lust For Life (1977)—4
2020 Deluxe Edition: same as 1977, plus TV Eye 1977 Live
Iggy Pop TV Eye 1977 Live (1978)—3
Iggy Pop The Bowie Years (2020)—3

Frank Zappa 51: You Can’t Do That On Stage Anymore Vol. 6

The sprawling You Can’t Do That On Stage Anymore series presented the good, the bad, and the ugly throughout years of performances. This is thoroughly demonstrated on the first disc in this final volume, which deals explicitly with “the topic of sex (safe and otherwise)”.

Of course, it wasn’t enough to write songs about sex; Frank wanted to talk about it too, so several monologues and raps on the topic dot the disc. That said, “The M.O.I. Anti-Smut Loyalty Oath” from 1970 is a mildly humorous statement in the wake of Jim Morrison’s obscenity trial. “The Poodle Lecture”, spoken over the “Stink-Foot” rhythm, kinda fits into the theme, as a setup for “Dirty Love”. Less successful are “The Madison Panty-Sniffing Festival”, which is exactly what it sounds like, and “Lonely Person Devices”, which sets up “Ms. Pinky”. His diatribe about Peter Frampton’s “I’m In You” is less necessary when “I Have Been In You” appears twenty minutes later, bookended by improvs on “The Torture Never Stops” with a very loud sex tape over the PA. It’s back to the Fillmore with Flo & Eddie for “Shove It Right In”, the extended groupie suite from side two of 200 Motels, and admittedly rocks. “Wind Up Workin’ In A Gas Station” is notable for the vocal work by the onetime Bianca Thornton, and the 1984 run from “Dinah-Moe-Humm” to “Muffin Man” is mostly good.

The second disc is mostly more musical, with such highlights as the complicated “Thirteen” with L. Shankar on electric violin; he returns a half-hour later for “Take Your Clothes Off When You Dance”. Patrick O’Hearn’s “Lobster Girl” bass solo nicely seques into “Black Napkins” with the 1976 horn section that unfortunately jars to 1984 for the guitar solo. (“The Illinois Enema Bandit” was cobbled from at least six sources.) Even “Catholic Girls” and “Crew Slut” are generally played more for dexterity than laughs. Breaking up the flow is an operatic monologue by Lisa Popeil, who sang on “Teen-age Prostitute”. “Lonesome Cowboy Nando” combines a 1988 performance full of in-jokes with one from 1971 with Jimmy Carl Black, which leads into the “200 Motels Finale” from the same show. The disc, and the series, ends with a “Strictly Genteel” from 1981.

So after twelve CDs’ worth of music, what have we learned? Well, as much as he insisted that “Touring Can Make You Crazy”, he was a guy determined to have a good time, all the time. He worked his bands and when they rose to the occasion, they were stellar. The fact that he could edit sections from multiple performances is just as much of a testimony to his ear as to the tightness of the bands—even if he insisted the edits were necessary due to the bands’ ongoing inability to play the stuff correctly. If anything, the series fostered a new generation of Zappa scholars, who would continue to dissect these and other live recordings over the years. Those who collected all six volumes could even procure a road case to keep them in.

Frank Zappa You Can’t Do That On Stage Anymore Vol. 6 (1992)—2

Rush 27: R40

Their fortieth year as a band was celebrated with a North American tour, resulting in Rush’s eleventh live album. R40 Live was another three-CD package, also made available with or as a DVD or Blu-ray set; this would be preferred by most fans who would not only appreciate seeing their idols—and their antics—up close, but also get the various comedic films shown as interludes throughout in high resolution.

After “The World Is… The World Is”, a montage of 26 iconic Rush riffs compiled to accompany the opening video, the first disc more or less travels backwards in time from Clockwork Angels to Signals, but skipping three ‘80s albums. (This might not have been the smartest idea, as Geddy Lee ends up forced to sing at higher registers as the show progresses.) The second set relies on the old faithfuls and epics from Moving Pictures and Permanent Waves, followed by excerpts from “Cygnus X-1” in shuffled order, staying on A Farewell To Kings for “Closer To The Heart” and “Xanadu”, and finishing with a 12-minute condensation of “2112”. The encores combined “Lakeside Park” with “Anthem” and “What You’re Doing” with “Working Man”, ending with a tag of their early “Garden Road”, which never made it to an album.

To fill up the third disc, various performances from throughout the tour not played at these shows were included, to provide as complete a chronicle as possible. Performed live for the first time ever on this tour, “Losing It” appears twice: once with original violinist Ben Mink, and again with Jonathan Dinklage of the Clockwork Angels String Ensemble from the last show of the tour.

Naturally everything is impeccably played, two drum solos are indexed, and there’s enough variety from the last few live albums to keep it from sounding too redundant. Again, the visual aspect of the show is key, as the stage setup goes from the steampunk setup at the start through the washing machines to the Marshall stacks, ending with amps atop wooden chairs. Even Geddy switched to his old basses and smaller keyboards as the need fit.

Following this tour, finding himself increasingly beset by physical limitations, Neil Peart decided he’d had it. The other two agreed. Rush would never perform as a band, live or in the studio, again.

Rush R40 Live (2015)—3½

Prince 23: The Vault

The Artist Still Referred 2 As Prince by Warner Bros. still owed them another album, so he gave them 1. The Vault… Old Friends 4 Sale purportedly collected tracks from a variety of sources from the ‘80s and ‘90s; even after Crystal Ball, many of the Purple 1’s fans had been looking 4ward 2 such an album 4 years. (Sorry.)

We said “purportedly”; his liner notes stated they spanned the years 1985 to 1994. However, while one song was indeed recorded that early, the rest came from the ‘90s. They’re of a piece as well, bordering on jazz, and a few were even intended for James L. Brooks’ ill-fated I’ll Do Anything film when it was designed as a musical.

One of those songs was supposedly the bopping “The Rest Of My Life”, which could work as the theme song for any sitcom starring an empowered modern woman. The party noises on “It’s About That Walk” are a little distracting, but luckily they fade away to let the track breathe. “She Spoke 2 Me” had already appeared on the Girl 6 soundtrack; this extended version runs over eight minutes, with lots of soloing. “5 Women” had previously been covered by Joe Cocker, and even without hearing his version it’s easy to see how, given its “Thrill Is Gone” vibe. “When The Lights Go Down” sets a subtle groove, and lays back for a lengthy piano solo.

“My Little Pill” is another odd detour, especially when followed by the moody “There Is Lonely”. That song’s allusion to Biblical betrayal ties in well with the theme of “Old Friends 4 Sale”, which did indeed date from 1985, and got a big arrangement in the Parade era. These aren’t the original lyrics, but they’re just as bitter. “Sarah” lightens the mood considerably with a more expected appreciation of the female form, and “Extraordinary” is a hidden gem of a slow jam.

Being a contractual obligation, he did the bare minimum for this album. Compared to the bounty and quality of Crystal Ball, The Vault was a major letdown, but we can blame its marketing. Musically it’s still intriguing, unfairly overlooked, and just as worthy as Chaos And Disorder.

Prince The Vault… Old Friends 4 Sale (1999)—3

Dire Straits 9: On The Night and Live At The BBC

Despite lackluster reviews, On Every Street was a huge hit around the globe, and was followed by a massive world tour that kept the band on the road for over a year. Such an undertaking was likely done with the idea that it would never happen again, and to underline the finality of it all, the tour was documented on On The Night.

Everything is bigger since Alchemy, and even the Brothers In Arms tour, with nine guys now onstage. As he did on the album they were supporting, Paul Franklin adds prominent pedal steel throughout. This is noticeable right away, where “Calling Elvis” is stretched out to ten minutes. New drummer Chris Whitten, fresh from Paul McCartney’s world tour, pounds the skins. Twenty minutes are given over to “Romeo And Juliet” and “Private Investigations”, which of course had already been on Alchemy and not necessarily enhanced here. Everything else comes from the last two albums, and all are crowd-pleasers, but here they’re mostly longer with more guitar solos and interplay, some of which is intriguing and some of which is noodling. A song like “You And Your Friend” can set a mood on a home stereo, but pretty much plods in an arena. That said, the closing “Brothers In Arms” is positively majestic and moving.

In the UK where such things were more common, “Your Latest Trick” was released as a single, promoted as the Encores EP, sporting a hot pink photo negative of the On The Night cover, bolstered by three songs that weren’t on the album: “The Bug” (which actually came earlier in the set), and familiar Alchemy favorites “Solid Rock”, and “Local Hero—Wild Theme”. Some thirty years later, the Live 1978-1992 box set expanded the original album to two discs, adding three more lengthy repeats from Alchemy as well as another “Two Young Lovers”, two songs from On Every Street, but most interestingly, the ultra-rare “I Think I Love You Too Much”, which was performed at Knebworth in 1990 with guest Eric Clapton, and covered that year on an album by blind blues phenom Jeff Healey. (The Encores EP was repeated on its own.)

Just how far the band had come—or sunk, depending on your point of view—was soon underscored by the excellent and very welcome Live At The BBC. This late-century surprise combined a 1978 radio appearance by the initial quartet playing six songs from the first album, plus the rarity “What’s The Matter Baby”, cowritten with brother David Knopfler, and which sounds like a blueprint for “Lady Writer”. Fleshing out the disc is a 1980 TV performance of “Tunnel Of Love”, complete with both intros as eventually heard on Alchemy, that is worth the twelve minutes even after Mark’s guitar has gone way out of tune. Even with the addition of keyboards, they were very tight.

Dire Straits On The Night (1993)—2½
Dire Straits Live At The BBC (1996)—3½

Fairport Convention 1: Fairport Convention

Joe Boyd is one of those Zelig-like characters to be found throughout this forum. He witnessed Bob Dylan going electric at Newport, he produced the first singles by Pink Floyd, and he started a production company that would eventually shepherd the likes of Nick Drake into public consciousness. This cachet would get him gigs working with R.E.M. and Robyn Hitchcock, among others. Fairport Convention was another of his early discoveries, and they’ve since gone on to become eponymous with English folk-rock.

In the beginning they were simply a coterie of like-minded young musicians trying to do something original. With Iain Matthews and Judy Dyble trading vocals, and two guitarists in Richard Thompson and Simon Nicol, they had something of a Jefferson Airplane vibe, but the rhythm section of Tyger Hutchings and Martin Lamble was more reserved. Their eponymous debut is all over the place, mixing esoteric covers with quirky originals.

Emitt Rhodes had yet to go solo and being his own cult status when they covered his “Time Will Show The Wiser”, an upbeat psychedelic jam with lots of lead guitar. They were also among the first to get to Joni Mitchell; “I Don’t Know Where I Stand” follows here, while “Chelsea Morning” begins side two. “If (Stomp)” was written by Matthews and Thompson, and has something of a Lovin’ Spoonful jugband feel, while “Decameron”, written by Thompson with two people we’ve never heard of, is a lovely duet. While co-credited to Bob Dylan, “Jack O’Diamonds” is merely a few lines taken from the liner notes of his fourth album set to music by Ben Carruthers, but good on them for including such an obscurity. “Portfolio” is a piano-driven instrumental with some sawing violins from the drummer.

Following a frantic “Chelsea Morning”, “Sun Shade” is another pleasant meditation from the team that brought you “Decameron”. Its eeriness sets up the weirdness of “The Lobster”, featuring autoharps and recorder and incorporating a poem by a 20th century British author. The mildly jazzy “It’s Alright Ma, It’s Only Witchcraft” is another nod to Dylan in name only, but it’s got a decent hook for a chorus. “One Sure Thing” is a melancholy tune borrowed from folk duo Jim & Jean (collectively the inspiration for Mitch & Mickey from A Mighty Wind, and she was allegedly the inspiration for Neil Young’s “Cinnamon Girl”). Another instrumental closes the side; “M.1 Breakdown” is an in-joke in reference to the new British highway, the bluegrass style, it apes, and the way it ends.

While it’s all over the place, what stands out on Fairport Convention outside of the quavery vocals is Richard Thompson’s lead guitar. Only 18 years old, he was already a force with which to be reckoned and worth watching, and certainly hearing.

The album didn’t come out in America until 1970, and on a different label, after three later albums had already been released. Once the catalog was unified, it did appear on CD over here in 1990, but collectors will want to seek out the expanded import (or streaming version) that includes four bonus tracks, including “If I Had A Ribbon Bow” (their first single) and previously unreleased covers of Leonard Cohen’s “Suzanne”, Tim Buckley’s “Morning Glory”, and Mimi & Richard Fariña’s “Reno, Nevada”, which Matthews would record on one of his own solo albums, and which gets an extended jam here.

Fairport Convention Fairport Convention (1968)—3

Van Morrison 47: The Prophet Speaks

It worked the last time, so Van Morrison kept the pot simmering with Joey DeFrancesco and band. The Prophet Speaks was his second album of 2018, and his fourth album over fifteen months. Clearly, he was inspired, but enough to give Joey co-billing again.

Over half of the album consists of rhythm and blues deep cuts, from such familiar touchstones as Solomon Burke, Sam Cooke, John Lee Hooker, and Willie Dixon. Two songs come from mildly obscure Chicago blues artist Shakey Jake: “Teardrops” [sic] and a medley of “Worried Blues” and “Rollin’ And Tumblin’”. Van mostly sticks to singing and blowing harmonica throughout, adding alto sax to only the title track and “Ain’t Gonna Moan No More”. For some reason he sees nothing strange about duetting with daughter Shana on a song like “Gotta Get You Off My Mind”.

More interesting is the fact that Van apparently wrote some new songs for the album. “Got To Go Where The Love Is” burbles with electric piano and “Spirit Will Provide” has a soulful, spiritual feel, though “5 am Greenwich Mean Time” is a basic blues. While it namechecks various icons, “Ain’t Gonna Moan” is a hollow promise coming out of his mouth, considering it’s soon followed by “Love Is Hard Work”. Finally, the title track is actually profound in its message, if repetitive.

Along with You’re Driving Me Crazy, The Prophet Speaks suggests Van’s onto something in his sixth decade of performing. His stuff may not necessarily be new, but it is fresh.

Van Morrison The Prophet Speaks (2018)—3

Thomas Dolby 3: Aliens Ate My Buick

Frustrated by his second album’s failure to extend the chart success of the first, Thomas Dolby turned to producing other people and dabbling in soundtrack work. This choice to create art over artifice made plenty of room for the likes of Howard Jones and other folks with wacky haircuts and the latest synths and sequencers. When he did get around to making another album, it was on his terms, recruiting a new band of unknowns and starting from scratch. Aliens Ate My Buick unfortunately followed its elder sibling to be received by indifference, though it deserved better.

“The Key To Her Ferrari” is a complicated sounding jazz parody featuring the distinctive narration of Robin Leach. While definitely a familiar pop culture icon when the album was first released, he was already past his fifteen minutes even then, and newer generations might not get the joke. His own narrated interlude isn’t much better. Luckily, “Airhead” is certainly catchier, though certainly misogynist, which the “explanation” in the final line doesn’t excuse. The lasciviousness continues on “Hot Sauce”, contributed by funk legend George Clinton, sporting a regular “spaghetti western guitar” and salsa interlude, as well as references to Larry Blackmon of Cameo. (Clinton previously employed Dolby on one of his own albums, before joining him, and Lene Lovich, and the Brecker Brothers, on a one-off single called “May The Cube Be With You”. Originally credited to Dolby’s Cube, it’s included here as a bonus track slash afterthought on the CD and cassette.) “Pulp Culture” skewers the L.A. scene, with a groove that would be borrowed by David Bowie in five years for “Black Tie White Noise”.

People still thought of albums in terms of sides in those days, and side two is a little more reserved. “My Brain Is Like A Sieve” is an aw-shucks kind of love song with a mild but not overt Jamaican influence. Either Laura Creamer or Rosie Stone (of Sly & The Family) sings the perfect harmony, but that is Ed Asner saying “murder” for some reason in the middle. The title of “The Ability To Swing” is certainly suggested by the tempo, but the lyrics are more abstract. It was even covered six years later by Patti Austin. In “Budapest By Blimp” we finally have a sumptuous track in line with the travelogues on The Flat Earth. At over eight minutes, with a slight Steely Dan groove and impenetrable lyrics, it’s exactly what this album needs to succeed. (So much so that skipping the bonus track is advised.)

Because his name and the very title of Aliens Ate My Buick still told potential listeners that he was just as wacky as he was on “She Blinded Me With Science”, the album didn’t deliver for those seeking such hilarity, which is their loss. Besides, the title still brings a chuckle, and the back cover is a scream.

Thomas Dolby Aliens Ate My Buick (1988)—3

Yardbirds 2: Having A Rave-Up

After scoring a hit single on both sides of the pond, the Yardbirds’ manager made sure they kept the hits coming in between gigs. Single after single were released in the UK, while America demanded albums, and that’s how Having A Rave-Up With The Yardbirds happened.

Side one of the album offers a smattering of those singles, although the first track made its debut here. The mildly socially conscious “You’re A Better Man Than I”, written by Manfred Mann’s drummer, sports good dynamics and a exploratory Jeff Beck solo over one chord. “Evil Hearted You” and “Heart Full Of Soul” were both written by Graham Gouldman, who was responsible for “For Your Love”; the former has a mild James Bond theme feel, while the latter sports a very Indian-flavored riff. Bo Diddley’s “I’m A Man” had already been covered by everybody in London, but it’s the Yardbirds’ version that stands above, with their patented rave-up approach (which would be copped by the Count Five for “Psychotic Reaction”). The rhythm section gets credit for writing “Still I’m Sad”, which betrays the brief flirtation many British groups of the time played with Gregorian chant. “Train Kept A-Rollin’” is a trash classic, from Beck’s locomotive imitation to Keith Relf’s inexplicably double-tracked, mismatched vocals. This recording is responsible for Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith, so take that as you will.

While the packaging said nothing about it, the entirety of side two was excerpted from the previous year’s Five Live Yardbirds, which was the band’s only British LP release so far, and which still featured Eric Clapton on lead guitar. This was the stuff Clapton thrived on: Howlin’ Wolf’s “Smokestack Lightning”, the Isley Brothers’ “Respectable”, Bo Diddley’s “Here ‘Tis”, and another blast through “I’m A Man”. And considering it was recorded at London’s legendary Marquee Club, the sound is very good.

Even though it wasn’t clear how or why the album was put together, Having A Rave-Up With The Yardbirds remains a solid listen. The singles are all solid, and somebody did us a favor by allowing the comparatively lengthy songs on side two, averaging five minutes each, to show the strength of the band, even if it did give short shrift to Clapton in the process. The album has had a confusing life in the digital era, but at the same time Five Live Yardbirds has remained available—starting with an official U.S. release on Rhino in 1988—which is a blessing.

The Yardbirds Having A Rave-Up With The Yardbirds (1965)—3½

Nilsson 7: Aerial Pandemonium Ballet

Now that more people knew who Harry Nilsson was, the label wanted to reissue his first two albums. That was mostly fine with him, but being very much a restless who got bored with the same old, he countered with a different idea. Rather than straight reissues of Pandemonium Shadow Show and Aerial Ballet, he reworked selections of both into Aerial Pandemonium Ballet.

People like to say this was the first remix album, to illustrate how ahead of his time Harry was. The fact of the matter is that sweetening an already-released master had been happening for years, such as in the case of the “rock” version of “The Sound Of Silence”; also this wasn’t long after tracks that had only been released in mono had been given stereo mixes months or even years down the road to keep up with audiophile trends. The difference was that Harry was overt about it, to the point that the back cover even helpfully listed what was different about each track (e.g. “slowed down”, “new vocals”, etc.).

Even with all the moderations and modulations, it still runs just under a mere half-hour. Following the familiar intro from the first album, two father songs (“1941” and “Daddy’s Song”) appear back to back. “Mr. Richland’s Favorite Song” now sports a quote from “One” in the middle. “Good Old Desk” makes a nice transition to “Everybody’s Talkin’”, which even sets “Bath” up well.

Side two juxtaposes various love-type songs cleverly. “River Deep–Mountain High” gets a new vocal but keeps the castanets and bongos, the latter of which still feature on “Sleep Late, My Lady Friend”. Thankfully “Don’t Leave Me” and “Without Her” both a tad softer in comparison. “Together” sounds a little jerky, plus it loses a bridge, running even shorter than before and going sharply into “One”. This is also chopped down, and diluted by the tap dance that bookended Aerial Ballet.

Still, Aerial Pandemonium Ballet is a nice way to hear where he started. It can even be argued he selected the best, most enduring tracks from each, and in most cases improved them, so his instincts were spot on. (An expanded version of the album had only one “outtake”: a remix of “You Can’t Do That” that highlights the song’s actual lyrics. The other bonus tracks were from the same period, including early versions of songs that would appear on his next two albums, his party piece cover of “Walk Right Back” that weaves in lyrics from “Cathy’s Clown”, and a faithful cover of John Lennon’s “Isolation”.)

Nilsson Aerial Pandemonium Ballet (1971)—3
2000 CD reissue: same as 1971, plus 5 extra tracks

Guns N’ Roses 1: Appetite For Destruction

Maybe it’s because of our age, but the early ‘80s and late ‘80s sometimes seem very far apart from each other in memory. A glance at MTV playlists demonstrates the chasm: the early part of the decade was dominated by new wave until Michael Jackson took over, and the other half was all hip-hop and hair metal. The latter appealed to dirty young men, as all of a sudden cleavage had made a comeback, after years of being hidden under bulky sweaters.

Because MTV’s rotation model relied on oversaturation, those of us who weren’t connoisseurs quickly came to hate most of the hair metal bands, starting with Poison and Bon Jovi, but there was definitely something about those Guns N’ Roses guys. For one, although they had teased hair and tattoos and played loud, it seemed like they were cut more from the Aerosmith cloth than Mötley Crüe or even Van Halen. Their music was more intricate than the usual power chords, and the lead guitarist was skilled but not strictly a pyrotechnic shredder. Going by the non de plume of Slash, it was apt. His top hat and curls made a good counterpart for the banshee of a lead vocalist, who called himself W. Axl Rose, soon to be familiar solely by the singular Axl. The other guitarist, Izzy Stradlin, usually looked like he couldn’t decide if he was Mick or Keith, bass player Duff McKagan resembled a doughier male version of Kelly Bundy, and drummer Steven Adler sat at the back but swung a lot more than he got credit for.

Appetite For Destruction shows much of their musical breadth, beginning with the undeniable swagger of “Welcome To The Jungle”, the first single and soon-to-be inescapable video. After a lot of yowling, Axl works on his lower range for “It’s So Easy”, but storms through the Def Leppard interlude for a profane kiss-off. “Nightrain” loads up the riffs and solos for a toe-tappin’ ode to drinkin’. “Out Ta Get Me” isn’t much more than a riff and a hook to hang F-bombs on, while “Mr. Brownstone” goes out of its way not to glorify smack. Yowza, indeed. While the third one released, “Paradise City” ended up being the first single to come out after the album had already started to sell, and soon became a radio anthem despite or because of its six-plus-minute length.

After a dark Aerosmith-like intro, “My Michelle” is apparently a true story about another lost little L.A. girl, and there’s even more cowbell on the almost sensitive “Think About You”; it’s even got acoustic guitars. But these tentative approaches to love songs have nothing on “Sweet Child O’ Mine”. Constructed as a mini-suite, it’s got (another) one of those classic riffs pinning it, even a bass solo of sorts on the intro, and was helped along by a video that garnered more widespread appeal. The speed-punk “You’re Crazy” ups the energy as well as the attitude, which “Anything Goes” tries to sustain, but is mostly a showcase for Slash’s talk box, until the tempo switch at the end. Finally, “Rocket Queen” is another mini-suite that couldn’t get played on the radio, as the middle section includes audio-verité of actual sexual congress. That said, each of the bookends are solid tunes on their own.

While it took the better part of a year to get noticed, Appetite For Destruction basically ensured that GN’R would be ubiquitous on the radio and TV, as well as in the press for the next three years. While their saga would take various twists and hit new valleys, this is where their legend started, and it remains an impressive debut.

The album was natural candidate for expansion for its 30th anniversary in multiple configurations, and they went all out. The bonus disc in the Deluxe Edition included all of the tracks from the Lies album but one, replaced by an acoustic trial of “Move To The City” and an earlier “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”, but the key addition is “Shadow Of Your Love”, an outtake from the original Live ?!*@ Like A Suicide EP that had been a B-side, but MIA until now. Five songs from the “1986 Sound City Sessions” show the band having the arrangements down, while three live tracks from London—including covers of “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” and AC/DC’s “Whole Lotta Rosie”—mop up tracks from out-of-print singles and EPs. Along with a pile of photos, ticket replicas, and even temporary tattoos, the Super Deluxe Edition added two more discs to encompass even more of the Sound City Sessions, including a shrill “Heartbreak Hotel”, an early take of “Back Off Bitch”, a few unfinished sketches, some spirited acoustic takes, and two versions of an epic called “November Rain”. (The piano-based take is just as long as the final product, while the one built around acoustic guitar sounds way too much like “I Don’t Want To Talk About It”.) For those who needed more, the $1000 Locked N’ Loaded Edition added everything on vinyl, plus a cassette of a 1985 demo session hidden amidst reams of even more ephemera.

Guns N’ Roses Appetite For Destruction (1987)—4
2018 Deluxe Edition: same as 1987, plus 18 extra tracks (Super Deluxe Edition adds another 21 tracks plus Blu-ray)

Kinks 28: Word Of Mouth and Return To Waterloo

Word Of Mouth found the still-busy Kinks in a state of transition. Founding drummer Mick Avory only played on three tracks on the album, and would be replaced by Bob Henrit, who’d followed Jim Rodford from Argent, via Dave Davies’ recent solo albums.

There must have been no hard feelings, since Mick appeared in the video for “Do It Again”, the album’s first track and lead single. It fades in on a variation of the opening to “A Hard Day’s Night”, and crackles along like a good Kinks single should. The title track has another wonderfully fuzzy riff and high harmonies from Dave, but “Good Day” sounds like a glorified demo. Still, its message of determination, even in the wake of a starlet’s death, is inspiring. Then Dave surprises us with rare political commentary in his “Living On A Thin Line”, and his mild yobbo phrasing works well with Ray’s occasional answering. Ray himself answers with the punky “Sold Me Out”, an angry comment on the same theme.

Following some synth-based wandering, the main riff on “Massive Reductions” sounds horribly dated today; while the song eventually rocks, the subject matter is starting to wear thin. Dave comes back with the angry (again) “Guilty”, but at least he wasn’t singing about aliens anymore. The wordy “Too Hot” has canned horns and some of the calliope sounds from “Come Dancing” disguising lyrics about the workout craze somehow related to more social commentary. After a lot of energy, “Missing Persons” provides sweet relief despite the sad subject matter. “Summer’s Gone” is almost Stonesy in its tempo and Dave’s licks, but there are some clever Beach Boy touches, and we can’t help thinking it’s about breaking up with Chrissie Hynde. We could say the same about “Going Solo”, but closer inspection shows it’s a parent’s plaint about grown offspring.

Even though Word Of Mouth is no masterpiece, it’s still a decent Kinks album, particularly considering how long they’d been at it. (The only bonus tracks on the expanded reissue 15 years later were extended versions of “Good Day” and “Summer’s Gone”.) If it sounds a little distracted, that’s likely because Ray was busy with yet another attempt at melding music and drama.

Though it had nothing to do with another song, Return To Waterloo was something of a Dennis Potter-influenced rock opera, depicting the dreary point of view and visions of a commuter who may or may not be a serial rapist, broadcast in the UK in late 1984, with limited theatrical showing in the US the following year. It’s a bit pretentious but still riveting, and therefore more successful than Pete Townshend’s White City.

Besides writing and directing it, Ray appears briefly as a subway busker, just like in the “Do It Again” video. A soundtrack album—credited solely to Ray, likely because Dave didn’t (or wouldn’t) play on it—runs just under a half-hour, and shares three songs with Word Of Mouth. (They also happen to be the three songs Mick played on. Meanwhile, “Ladder Of Success” and “The Good Times Are Gone” are in the film but not included on the album, probably because they’re sung by actors.)

Following an atmospheric intro, the title track begins as a busk, but soon detours into uncharacteristic yet effective synths. “Going Solo”, “Missing Persons”, and “Sold Me Out” gain a little more insight in this context, while the remaining tracks not only have promise, but work well without a screenplay. “Lonely Hearts” is a lover’s lament, offset by an advice columnist. One of the last lines is “you are far away”, and then we have “Not Far Away”, a rocker “sung” by a young Tim Roth in the film. The doom prophecy in that tune gets a different perspective in the more somber and stately “Expectations”. The techno-pop “Voices In The Dark” is used over the end credits, and pulls the theme of the film back from a response to Thatcherism towards general existential loneliness.

The Kinks Word Of Mouth (1984)—3
1999 Konk CD reissue: same as 1984, plus 2 extra tracks
Ray Davies Music From The Motion Picture “Return To Waterloo” (1985)—3