Mickey Hart: Rolling Thunder

While Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir were busy with their own solo albums, exiled drummer Mickey Hart recorded one of his own in his Marin County barn. Rolling Thunder went some distance from the traditional Dead sound, but sported appearances by most of the band, as well as contributions from members of Quicksilver Messenger Service, Jefferson Airplane, and other notable Frisco musicians, plus the Tower of Power horns, Stephen Stills on one track, and two well-known tabla players augmenting his own percussion to present something of a world music fusion.

The album was named after the self-styled medicine man who provides the opening “Shoshone Invocation”. This segues into the rainstorm that heralds “The Main Ten”, better known as “Playing In The Band”, sung as usual by Bobby. “Fletcher Carnaby” is a Robert Hunter lyric set to a jarring psychedelic arrangement and growled by David Freiberg, but the mood returns to spacey on “The Chase (Progress)”, which pits Mickey against Zakir Hussain’s tabla while Jerry’s guitar adds color. A highlight is “Blind John”, a fireside strum with a martial rhythm and trademark high harmonies by Grace Slick.

Freiberg growls the garbled lyrics to the rockin’ “Young Man”, while “Deep, Wide And Frequent” features the horns and four guitar players competing over a very complicated meter. Built on the rhythm of an actual water pump, “Pump Song” was the basis for what Deadheads already knew as “Greatest Story Ever Told”. Jerry’s credited here for “insect fear”, which dominates the end of the track, leading into “Granma’s Cookies”, another piece with Mickey and Zakir. Driven by Freiberg’s dominant piano, “Hangin’ On” closes the program with another rocker.

One’s enjoyment of Rolling Thunder will certainly depend on how much one likes drum circles and the Tower of Power horns. Either way, it’s an interesting little side trip.

Mickey Hart Rolling Thunder (1972)—3

Nilsson 9: Son Of Schmilsson

With Nilsson Schmilsson, Harry Nilsson had pretty much become the big star he’d always seemed to want to be. And with that, he proceeded to buck trends and his own producer’s desire to repeat the formula. With its horror movie-inspired cover art and lettering, Son Of Schmilsson thumbed its nose at the very idea of a sequel, even with all-star help from two pseudonymed Beatles, Peter Frampton, Nicky Hopkins, Jim Price, Bobby Keys, and Klaus Voormann.

“Take 54” provides a peek at the increasingly difficult task of making records, particularly when distracted by a young lovely for whom the singer “sang [his] balls off”. Following a trailer-style announcement for the album, “Remember (Christmas)” is a lovely little ballad that has nothing to do whatsoever with the word in the subtitle, yet is exactly what everybody wanted. “Joy” is a country music parody, on which he doubles down the satire. Near the end he asks her to listen for him on the radio, and sure enough “Turn On Your Radio” presents another lovelorn lament but in a more pensive tone. Then there’s the wonderfully nasty “You’re Breakin’ My Heart”, with its opening line that guaranteed zero airplay, paving the way for Cee-Lo some 38 years later.

Speaking of odd connections, “Spaceman” is something of the flip-side to Elton John’s “Rocket Man”, in that the protagonist is tired of begin stuck in space; the strings were arranged by Elton (and Nilsson) regular Paul Buckmaster. With its sweet sentiment and lingering hopefulness, “The Lottery Song” hearkens back to his earlier songs. But his disdain for playing nice is epitomized by the opening of “At My Front Door”, wherein he begins to croon “Remember (Christmas)”, then belches and the track switches to an upbeat piano-driven cover of an old doo-wop tune. “Ambush” is a sneaky one, loping along with a tale of a platoon of soldiers singing to keep their spirits up, only to be wiped out by enemy gunfire. If you think that’s morbid, consider “I’d Rather Be Dead”, sung to the accompaniment of a jaunty accordion with the help of a choir comprised of pensioners happily crooning along with “I’d rather be dead/Than wet my bed.” Richard Perry’s hope for a big Disney finale with “The Most Beautiful World In The World” is compromised by the first half, sung in a faux-reggae voice with a gargled solo.

As long as people can handle the humor and chauvinism, Son Of Schmilsson actually is a worthy follow-up, especially when taken in the context of his catalog. Connoisseurs would very much appreciate the most recent reissue of the album, which added several bonus tracks: an early version of “What’s Your Sign”; an alternate “Take 54”; a comical busk of “It Had To Be You” that leads into “I’d Rather Be Dead”; an unused recording of Jimmy Webb’s “Campo De Encino”; and “Daybreak”, the one new song included on the soundtrack to 1974’s cinematic debacle Son Of Dracula, which otherwise recycled selections from this album and Nilsson Schmilsson.

Nilsson Son Of Schmilsson (1972)—3
2006 CD reissue: same as 1972, plus 5 extra tracks

Beach Boys 32: Sail On Sailor

Whether or not the Feel Flows compendium was a critical or commercial success, it was no real surprise that the archivists behind the Beach Boys legacy would follow it up. Named after the best song on both albums, Sail On Sailor: 1972 encompasses the sessions for that year’s Carl And The Passions – “So Tough” and the following year’s Holland. A two-disc version expands both albums with the usual assortment of outtakes, alternate mixes, and live tracks, but that’s a mere shadow of the six-disc version, which devotes two to a Carnegie Hall concert from November of that year.

The show begins with an introduction from manager Jack Rieley, pleading for the enthusiastic crowd not to shout out random requests; he doesn’t explain that doing so will only cause Mike Love to insult them, and he does. (He also takes the occasion of an instrument change to plug transcendental meditation; at another point he predicts that Smile would be out within a year. It wasn’t.) Their set at this point had only a smattering of oldies, with a focus on newer material, which frankly sound better on stage than on records. The new guys, Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar, were definitely key to why the band sounded so good in the studio and onstage at this juncture, and it’s to everyone’s credit that both are prominently depicted on the cover. A second drummer and bass player were also onstage; listen closely and you can hear Tennille singing alongside the Captain! Surfing songs, plus a surprising and driving crash through “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”, bring the show to a close. (The two discs also provide another perspective to 1973’s The Beach Boys In Concert, which was culled from a variety of dates, but doesn’t excuse the inclusion of live performances from later decades elsewhere in the set.)

Relistening to the original albums shows that the boys didn’t have much left in the tank; Brian is all but inaudible on Carl And The Passions, and Holland is still audacious but a mess. Only a few previously unreleased songs are included among the assortment of isolated tracks—which are admittedly, pretty good. A couple from the new guys, including “We Got Love”, which had appeared on In Concert, bolster the Holland portion. An excerpt of a tape of Van Dyke Parks goading Brian into completing “Sail On Sailor” is frustrating but fascinating, just as two takes of the unknown “Out In The Country” have promise; three other Brian sketches are unfinished. Dennis, however, was just gearing up, with his “Carry Me Home” a haunting highlight.

The Beach Boys Sail On Sailor: 1972 (2022)—3

Yes 5: Close To The Edge

Seemingly at full strength by retaining the same lineup for two straight albums, Yes put all they had into Close To The Edge. To prove they weren’t kidding, the album consisted of one side-long epic backed with two other lengthy pieces to establish themselves as the prog trailblazers. (The simple green cover with the band photos on the back—including one shot of co-producer Eddy Offord—may seem oddly ordinary, but fear not: a trademark Roger Dean landscape takes up the gatefold.)

After bird song and water effects fade in, the instrumentalists take a couple of minutes to see how fast they can play and still keep in sync, and eventually a theme emerges on Steve Howe’s guitar. This first part is titled “The Solid Time Of Change” and sports lyrics and a chorus that will recur in the others. The second part, “Total Mass Retain”, is similar musically, except that the chorus hooks are sung faster. Rick Wakeman’s organ takes over the earlier theme, and we move to the more ethereal “I Get Up I Get Down” interlude, which ruminates on that theme with interlocking vocals before a massive pipe organ provides a very churchy atmosphere. A bleepy synthesizer shifts the proceedings back to the original theme and the final “Seasons Of Man” portion. After eighteen minutes, the “I get up I get down” melody is something of a relief and a release, and too brief before a calliope brings back the birds and water.

While “Close To The Edge” may seem indulgent and an acquired taste, we can’t say the same for “And You And I”. For our money, this is the quintessential Yes track, from Steve’s initial harmonics to check his tuning while the organ provides a melodic bed, and then that wonderful 12-string intro. This song too has parts, beginning with “Cord Of Life” over three simple chords played ad infinitum until finally there’s a switch to a pre-chorus that sets up the transition to “Eclipse”, an almost symphonic theme. A simple (for them) Leslie effect on the guitar brings in a slower repeat of the chorus, which hangs there until the 12-string intro returns. “The Preacher, The Teacher” speeds up the musical themes to a more jaunty backing, eventually building up to the pre-chorus for a reprise of the “Eclipse” section, which reaches a fermata (look it up), and “The Apocalypse” is the odd title given to the final 45 seconds and the final chorus.

All that happens in ten minutes, but we’ve still got the rest of side two to go. While it’s certainly intricate and complicated, “Siberian Khatru” is comparatively straightforward and rocking. A strong guitar riff always helps, and the band comes in with a driving rhythm of its own while Howe tweedled-ee-dees on top. They keep the energy going for the duration, there’s a harpsichord solo, and the lyrics make absolutely no sense.

Close To The Edge is a lot of people’s favorite Yes album, which we can understand. There is a lot going on, and most of it is, well, edgy and distracting, so it’s not the type of thing we can throw on at any hour of the day. As we’ve probably said before, we do respect certain prog performers because it does take a lot of work to write lengthy compositions with multiple parts that fit together, and Yes does that here.

Naturally the album was expanded when its time came. It’s always interesting when bonus tracks outnumber an album’s original tracks; while the single version of their cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s “America” may seem redundant as the expanded Fragile included the full version, more interesting is the edit of “Total Mass Retain” used as its B-side. Early mixes of “And You And I” and “Siberian Khatru” just sound empty, because they are. Steven Wilson helmed the stereo and surround mixes for the later “definitive edition”, which had even more extras on the Blu-ray. He gave the album yet another new mix and an instrumental mix—which is frankly astounding—to go along with another remaster for the Super Deluxe Edition a decade later, which also included the extras from the other expansions, a few fresh edits, and two discs devoted to a Rainbow Theater concert already mined for the Yessongs album and film. (Note: the drummer on those discs is Alan White, who replaced the departed Bill Bruford.) A Blu-ray contained everything in hi-res, plus Rhino insisted on including the remaster on vinyl in the package as well.

Yes Close To The Edge (1972)—3½
2003 remastered CD: same as 1972, plus 4 extra tracks
2014 Definitive Edition: “same” as 1972, plus 2 extra tracks (plus DVD or Blu-ray)
2025 Super Deluxe Edition: same as 1972, plus 27 extra tracks (plus Blu-ray)

Mary Hopkin 4: Live At The Royal Festival Hall

Having had enough of the pop music industry, and already starting a family, Mary Hopkin kept mostly to herself over the decades, surfacing occasionally on a background vocal or an album on a small label. Any Apple reissue brought her attention, and once her kids were grown they became extremely determined to promote their mum. One of the first CDs released on the Mary Hopkin Music label was a concert performed in the wake of Earth Song/Ocean Song, opening for headliner Ralph McTell.

It’s an eclectic set, touching on some of the hits but mostly on the folk songs she loved, such as “Silver Dagger”, “Once I Had A Sweetheart”, “Both Sides Now”, and “Morning Is Broken”. Acoustic guitars, plus Danny Thompson on upright bass, and a small string quartet back her gently. Just as her delivery is confident, her banter in between is witty and utterly charming. Speaking of which, one can’t help but smile as she and husband Tony Visconti duet on the Beatles’ “If I Fell”. She even does “Those Were The Days”, she says, because her in-laws had “flown in from New York” to hear it.

The sound quality is a little wonky on the last two songs, but her voice—that sweet, angelic voice—is clear as a blue sky, and shines through. Live At The Royal Festival Hall 1972 is a wonderful discovery for anyone who enjoyed her brief pop career.

Mary Hopkin Live At The Royal Festival Hall 1972 (2005)—3½

Kinks 15: Everybody's In Show-Biz

Ray Davies’ fascination—some might say obsession—with America continued, somewhat on the next Kinks album. This time it was a double, the band’s first, not counting Kronikles. Everybody's In Show-Biz (sometimes with the subtitle Everybody’s A Star, sometimes without) presented two sides of music mostly complaining about the drudgery of touring, and another two recorded at Carnegie Hall during one such recent tour. It’s not an easy listen.

“Here Comes Yet Another Day” would be a decent on its own, but the theme had already been covered in “This Time Tomorrow”. Only three years later the band’s sound has been upgraded with the inclusion of a horn section, although the music is reduced to two chords, it’s still a decent groove. Then it’s off to the drunken music hall sound that dominates the rest of the tracks, beginning with the greasy food litany of “Maximum Consumption”, but at least Dave Davies shows up for some harmonies. “Unreal Reality” begins even slower and drunker; it speeds up, thankfully, but the horns take up the mix. “Hot Potatoes” sees the brothers trading verses from the point of view of someone pointedly not in the jet set beseeching his wife for sweet lovin’ over fancy cookin’. Kill the horns and speed it up, and perhaps we’d have something. “Sitting In My Hotel” returns us to the sad rocker in the stated location, acknowledging just how petty he’s being in the face of things. Frankly, it’s lovely.

He’s back to whining about food on “Motorway”, but you’d think for all the time he’d spent plodding across America he’d’ve picked up that it’s called a highway. Dave gets a song of his own, and while “You Don’t Know My Name” is within the concept of touring, his perspective is refreshing, though we could do without the Canned Heat flute. “Supersonic Rocket Ship” pairs the music of “Apeman” with the getaway dreams of “Holiday In Waikiki” and “I’m On An Island”, then “Look A Little On The Sunny Side” is back to vaudeville, with a tuba holding the bass and a single parade drum providing the percussion. But the listener’s patience is rewarded with the lovely “Celluloid Heroes”, a song that celebrated the fading stars of Hollywood a whole year before “Candle In The Wind”, and an overt admission that Ray fully understands that the illusions of the big screen are just those.

Pairing those songs with a snapshot of a recent gig may be designed to add some conceptual commentary, but mostly it gives the band and their label a chance to double dip into the royalties. Still, for all his neuroses, Ray is quick to give credit to the people onstage beside and behind him. They start energetically with “Top Of The Pops”, and the horns add a new level to “Brainwashed”. But then the drink starts to get to Ray on a bizarre snippet of the show tune “Mr. Wonderful”, which sets up “Acute Schizophrenia Paranoid Blues”, and the rest of the set concentrates on songs from Muswell Hillbillies. There are detours through Harry Belafonte’s “Banana Boat Song” (aka “Day-O”) and “Baby Face”, and we’re left with a couple minutes dedicated to the end of “Lola”, mostly sung by the audience.

Being such a long album, the first reissue only had room for two live extras, including a version of “Til The End Of The Day”, which makes the most of the stop-start riff to welcome folks to the show. For the deluxe edition two decades later, a second disc added those plus eleven more live performances—including five alternates from the original album—plus four session outtakes. (Of those, “History” is a nice new discovery, sung straight without irony or horns. “Sophisticated Lady” would emerge on the next album under another title, but here’s it’s a harmless instrumental with guitars.) If anything, the expansion proves that they were still a decent live band. That is, when they weren’t too drunk to play.

The album was expanded again for its 50th anniversary in tandem with Muswell Hillbillies in a box that included a handful of the extras from the 2016 edition on LP only; the single CD had to make do with only a modern mix of “Celluloid Heroes”. Further remixes appeared in the big box, along with a Blu-ray containing a 15-minute home movie.

The Kinks Everybody's In Show-Biz—Everybody’s A Star (1972)—2½
1998 Konk CD reissue: same as 1972, plus 2 extra tracks
2016 Legacy Edition: same as 1998, plus 15 extra tracks
2022 50th Anniversary Edition: same as 1972, plus 1 extra track

Mary Hopkin 3: Those Were The Days

Even though she hadn’t had a hit in a few years, somebody still cared about Mary Hopkin at Apple, which nicely capped off her stint there with a compilation. Save the title track, which was of course included on the US version of her first album, Those Were The Days collects several songs that were only ever released as singles, some of which actually charted. Besides “albumizing” several songs, it presents something of a link between her two proper LPs.

“Que Sera Sera” and “The Fields Of St. Etienne” were produced by Paul McCartney, and feature him and Ringo playing. These were also the last tracks she recorded before moving on to producer Mickie Most, whose song choices were even more single-minded. But for her voice, “Think About Your Children” and “Knock Knock Who’s There” might as well be the Partridge Family. “Temma Harbour” attempts to evoke musical echoes of various tropical islands without focusing on one. “Lontano Degli Occhi” continued the strategy of making her a multilingual superstar; this particular Italian pastry has a certain “Feelings” quality. “Heritage”, written by Gallagher and Lyle, is much more suited to her comfort level. (The album also included “Goodbye” and “Sparrow”, both of which have been appended to the Post Card reissue, as was “Kew Gardens” to Earth Song/Ocean Song.)

Much of the Apple catalog went forgotten after the label became inactive, and the non-Beatle artists went various ways. The Apple reissues of the early ‘90s included Mary’s first two albums alongside the likes of Badfinger, James Taylor, and Billy Preston, but—in the US anyway—interest thawed, so several titles were only released in the UK, including an upgrade of Those Were The Days. She actually had a hand in compiling the CD version, which collected further stray singles and B-sides that fell off the original LP, and added three tracks from Earth Song/Ocean Song (one of which actually was a single) plus one outtake from same. Just as the LP, it presents all sides of her repertoire, for better or for worse, and while its lack of availability today unfortunately leaves some gems buried once again, the label can’t blamed; she didn’t like them anyway.

Mary Hopkin Those Were The Days (1972)—3½
1995 UK CD: same as 1972, plus 6 extra tracks

Kinks 14: Kronikles

While Reprise had let the Kinks get away in the U.S., the label still had rights to everything the band had recorded up until then. And since it had been six years and several actual hits since the one best-of, it was high time to kash in. Wisely, they left it to a fan, journalist and devout Kink kollector John Mendelsohn, to kompile a double album and kontribute liner notes extolling the band and the tracks therein.

While they didn’t put a lot of money into the kover design, The Kink Kronikles expertly served up four sides’ worth of klassic Kinks music from the period since that hits album, kombining hit singles, B-sides, album tracks, and other nuggets that had either been ignored by radio or not released in America at all. Mendelsohn’s point was that these tunes deserved to be heard, and now they were. While most of the albums represented here were of the konceptual ilk, he made damn sure to touch on several one-off singles from in between said koncepts, proving that they were just as good at 45 as they were at 33. (And yes, that would be Nicky Hopkins playing so many of those keyboards, kredit long overdue.)

Side one alone offers three tracks that had yet to appear in America. The overly music hall “Berkeley Mews” was left over from the Village Green era, and had only recently made it out as the British B-side of “Lola”. “This Is Where I Belong” was another British B-side, and it’s just glorious, while “Willesden Green” is an odd choice, being chosen from the Percy soundtrack to even Mendelsohn’s befuddlement. But around all that are “Victoria”, “Village Green Preservation Society”, “Holiday In Waikiki” for some reason, and the eternal “Waterloo Sunset”.

Side two explores the various downtrodden individuals that were Ray Davies’ trademark, from the more familiar “David Watts” and “Sunny Afternoon” to the deeper album tracks “Get Back In Line” and “Shangri-La”. Kult klassics “Dead End Street” and “Autumn Almanac” get welcome exposure, while “Did You See His Name”, another Village Green leftover, hadn’t been released anywhere yet.

Side three takes a side trip to more whimsical karacters, to varying success. There’s “Fancy”, with its drone and simple lyrics, followed by the goofy flop single “Wonderboy”. “Apeman” was an FM radio hit, kleverly shadowed by the American debut of “King Kong”, another goofy flop. The ragtimey “Mr. Pleasant” is a matter of taste, while “God’s Children” is far and away the best song from Percy, and Dave Davies finally gets the spotlight for “Death Of A Clown”.

Side four is said to be about women, so of kourse it starts with “Lola”, followed by its American B-side “Mindless Child Of Motherhood”. (What Mendelsohn didn’t know at the time was that this Dave Davies song, like “Susannah’s Still Alive” a few tracks later, addresses the same lost love and child he’d yet to meet.) “Polly” and “Big Black Smoke” were both B-sides from the Something Else period, and “She’s Got Everything”, with its last vestige of that famous guitar sound from ’64, was also dusted off to back up “Days”, the wonderful single that fittingly kloses the set.

While many of these tracks have since been re-assigned to various expanded album reissues and box sets in kontext, The Kink Kronikles remains an excellent follow-up to that first hits album, and anyone delving deeper into the albums sampled shouldn’t feel any redundancy. There are only a couple of klunkers here, yet it still holds up, particularly as the band had already moved on to a kompletely different place.

The Kinks The Kink Kronikles (1972)—4

Humble Pie 6: Smokin’

Now that they’d finally “arrived”, Peter Frampton was gone on his own, so Steve Marriott’s new guitar foil was Clem Clempson. The band soldiered on, continuing their foundation of heavy boogie and sludge on Smokin’.

Covers slowed down beyond recognition are still their thing, with “C’mon Everybody” on one side and “Road Runner” on the other, with Stephen Stills mangling the Hammond organ. He’s also prominent on the opening “Hot ‘N Nasty”, which is one of the few tracks we suppose could be danced to, if only for the inspired rhyme of “feeling” and “ceiling”. “The Fixer” follows on the slow riffs that drove Rockin’ The Fillmore, but ends with a wonderful triplet phrase right out of Jimi Hendrix’s last recordings. “You’re So Good For Me” rises above its dull beginning and Faces impersonation to incorporate Doris Troy and Madeline Bell on backing vocals. Blues legend Alexis Korner helps out on the out-of-place skiffle shuffle “Old Time Feelin’”.

The song that sold the album starts side two. “30 Days In The Hole” opens with a snippet of the boys practicing their harmonies for the chorus, before Steve details all the wonderful varieties of drugs that got him where he is. The lengthy “I Wonder” is supposedly based on a little-known blues side, but good luck noticing the similarities. The solos are masterful, but in case anyone falls asleep from the pace, “Sweet Peace And Time” bludgeons its way to the end, and a good way to clear your sinuses.

Smokin' is worthy of the albums that came before, but once you dig deep, Frampton’s balance is sorely missed. Still, these guys weren’t trying to create fine art.

Humble Pie Smokin' (1972)—3

Elton John 7: Honky Château

Right on schedule, Elton, Bernie, and the band went off to the Château d'Hérouville outside Paris, where all the hip ‘70s stars would record, to complete another full-length album. Despite the somber bearded face and gray tones on the wallet-style cover, Honky Château is light and accessible, so much so that some of the tracks are ubiquitous.

A clever title, “Honky Cat” is an early indication of his pop sound, with a honking horn section over a New Orleans groove. “Mellow” goes back to the singer-songwriter sound of the last few albums, but goes on a little long with the organ solo in the middle that lasts through the end. Then there’s “I Think I’m Gonna Kill Myself”, which is something of a monologue about “teenage blues”, sung with absolutely no sympathy for the self-involved narrator. “Legs” Larry Smith of the Bonzo Dog Band shows up to tap-dance, as he would, and we’re still not sure why. “Susie (Dramas)” is another Taupin lyric inspired by Americana, set to a rocking beat we’ve heard before. Things slow down again for “Rocket Man”, here given its full subtitle (“I Think It’s Gonna Be A Long, Long Time”). Notably, this is the first appearance of David Hentschel on synthesizer, where he’d stay for the time being.

“Salvation” has a mild gospel feel, via the lyrics and the mass chorus vocals, and while the sentiment is a bit trite, the chorus has a good hook, which is the real point. The idea continues on “Slave”, which seems to match the lament of a pre-Civil War “servant”, but the backing is almost inappropriate, more concerned with geography than the message. It’s back to more basic needs on “Amy”, a song of lust for a woman of the same name; as with the song that occupies the same spot on side one, there is a guest star, this time Jean-Luc Ponty on electric violin. One of the pair’s more surprising anthems, “Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters” is a moving, enduring tribute to New York City, with a wonderfully subtle harmony on the first couplet in the chorus. If you’re looking for deep meaning, don’t bother digging too far into “Hercules”, which appears to be about a woman who loves a cat (or “cat”, this being 1972) of the same name. That Elton took that as his legal middle name during the gestation of the album may only be a coincidence.

And that’s it—no concept, just songs. Honky Château gets points for relying solely on the Elton John Band, solid as they were. We prefer the “heavier” tone of the previous two studio albums, but it’s still worthy, and not at all fluffy. (The eventual reissue added one bonus track, an incredibly fast version of “Slave” that, despite its lack of reverence, is miles better than the album version. The slightly belated 50th anniversary upgrade of the album did not include that, but two versions of “Slave” were among the studio demos included, along with several of the album tracks recorded live at London’s Royal Festival Hall that predate the album’s release.)

Elton John Honky Château (1972)—3
1995 CD reissue: same as 1972, plus 1 extra track
2023 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1972, plus 17 extra tracks

Rod Stewart 4: Never A Dull Moment

One wonders how the superstars of the ‘70s could create so much music before cocaine became such a thing, but sure enough, Rod Stewart managed to pull together another solo album in between Faces albums and tours. Never A Dull Moment follows the pattern of his previous albums, taking a particular nod from Every Picture Tells A Story, relying mostly on acoustic instruments and covers from a wide range of sources. Somehow, however, it seems pale in comparison, and hindsight suggests this might be his turning point.

Again, the ingredients are there: “True Blue” is a strong Faces performance; “Lost Paraguayos” has that wandering bassline and verses that refuse to rhyme; “Mama You Been On My Mind” is an inspired arrangement of a then-unreleased Dylan song; “Italian Girls” a cross between “True Blue” and “Lost Paraguayos” that seems to predict the Stones’ “Silver Train” until the lovely slowdown. And that’s just side one.

Side two is nearly a mirror, with three covers and just one original. First there’s Jimi Hendrix’s “Angel”, which concentrates on the song rather than the pyrotechnics, though we could do without the bongos. “Interludings” is a 40-second guitar piece supposedly written by Ron Wood’s brother Art, and serves as an intro to “You Wear It Well”, otherwise known as that song that sounds exactly like “Maggie May”. “I’d Rather Go Blind” was a B-side a few years earlier by Etta James, and thankfully gets more exposure here. Sam Cooke’s “Twistin’ The Night Away” provides a nice “party” ending, as opposed to a soft benediction.

We don’t want to say Never A Dull Moment is an oxymoronic description of the contents, but perhaps the pressure of following two strong albums was too much. It’s not like he was trying to make some kind of art statement anyway—except in the cover design, which always seems upside down and inside out.

Rod Stewart Never A Dull Moment (1972)—3

Grateful Dead 8: Europe ‘72

Having become dedicated (sorry) to playing shows, that was the place to hear new Grateful Dead music. And since their live albums were moneymakers, they were able to travel with a label-subsidized tape unit to capture all of their European shows, which would then become their third live album, and a three-record set to boot.

Europe ‘72 doesn’t replicate a typical show, but it does mirror the “Skull & Roses” album by presenting songs old and new. Pigpen takes a smaller role throughout, with new pianist Keith Godchaux filling in the arrangements, and his wife Donna singing backup. The energy flags a bit over the six sides, but it’s very possible that many early listeners concentrated on a side at a time.

After a rollicking “Cumberland Blues”, “He’s Gone” is a pleasant saloon lope that provides the title of a future live album and “One More Saturday Night” makes the transition from Bob Weir solo track to Dead standard. “Jack Straw” is a mysterious song with many layers, possibly a murder ballad, possibly the plaint of escaped convicts. There’s no such mystery about “You Win Again” except that it’s a Hank Williams song. “China Cat Sunflower” emerges from the psychedelic era to form a jam with “I Know You Rider”, which some Dead-influenced band is likely playing somewhere right now, or thinking about it.

“Brown Eyed Women” has a somewhat modern sound, but lyrics that evoke moonshiners from the early part of the century, and it’s a grower. Pigpen comes to the microphone for “It Hurts Me Too”, the ancient blues tune, but not as slow as “Ramble On Rose”. “Sugar Magnolia” gets extended nicely, complete with fake ending, and keen ears have spotted that one can pick out a few notes from “Dark Star” at the beginning. Pigpen emerges again on “Mr. Charlie”, a decent midtempo boogie, but “Tennessee Jed” blends in with the other low-energy tracks to keep it from standing out.

Right on time, the album switches to extended jams, as on Live/Dead, which actually helps bring us around. Side five begins with an introduction for “Truckin’” that acknowledges its hit single status, and extends after 13 minutes into an “Epilogue”. This is presumably continued in a mildly atonal “Prelude” on side six, before ending with a slow “Morning Dew” that manages to sustain interest.

For continuity’s sake, the first CD version of Europe ‘72 split the album across two discs, comprising three sides apiece. The eventual expansion had the first four sides on one disc, with the rare Pigpen track “The Stranger (Two Souls In Communion)” as a bonus; a hidden gem, to be sure, if a shaky performance. The other CD offered the “Truckin’” through “Morning Dew” run, plus Weir’s “Looks Like Rain” and a half-hour romp on the Rascals’ “Good Lovin”, which is interesting if you like Pigpen.

Even before that, the same period was mined for other archival releases. Hundred Year Hall was culled from a concert in Germany, and had the boost of being the first release following Garcia’s death. A complete show from two days earlier was eventually released in a shuffled order as Rockin' The Rhein With The Grateful Dead, while Steppin' Out With The Grateful Dead: England ’72 offered four discs from various dates. For the absolute collector, Europe '72: The Complete Recordings offered all 22 shows on 73 CDs, packed in a suitcase. Each show was eventually released individually, but even more accessible for those on a budget was Europe '72 Volume 2, which presented a companion to the original without repeating any of its songs, though there is some overlap with the Skull & Roses set. The first disc delivers even more Pigpen, with the second more devoted to lengthy jams and a lovely “Sing Me Back Home”. (Those who still can’t get enough can sample the New York shows immediately before the tour on Dick's Picks Volume 30, one entire show of which is on Dave's Picks Volume 14.)

Grateful Dead Europe ‘72 (1972)—3½
2003 CD reissue: same as 1972, plus 6 extra tracks
     Archival releases of same vintage:
     • Hundred Year Hall (1995)
     • Steppin' Out With The Grateful Dead: England ’72 (2002)
     • Dick's Picks Volume 30 (2003)
     • Rockin' The Rhein With The Grateful Dead (2004)
     • Europe '72: The Complete Recordings (2011)
     • Europe '72 Volume 2 (2011)
     • Dave's Picks Volume 14 (2015)
     • Lyceum Theatre, London, England 5/26/72 (2022)

Doors 9: Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mine

Once the Doors were deemed finished, the powers that be valiantly attempted to preserve Jim Morrison’s legacy in rock. Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mine presents a sprawling overview of the band’s work over two LPs, crammed to the gills with their biggest radio hits and album tracks. It nicely avoided anything already on 1970’s 13; while an obvious cash-in, that remained the “hit single” companion compilation, particularly if you wanted “Light My Fire”, “Touch Me”, “Hello I Love You”, and so forth without having to buy five albums.

Weird Scenes represents each of the six studio albums, nearly equally, with the shortest shrift given to The Soft Parade. While that title track would have been welcome here, it’s place is perhaps taken by two then-unalbumized B-sides: “Who Scared You” from the Soft Parade era, and “You Need Meat (Don’t Go No Further)”, the flip of “Love Her Madly” featuring the imitable vocal stylings of Ray Manzarek.

Outside 1973’s The Best Of The Doors, which was released exclusively to meet the fleeting demand for quadrophonic sound, Weird Scenes and 13 sufficed. Then two things happened: “The End” was used in Apocalypse Now, and the salacious Morrison biography No One Here Gets Out Alive kindled interest in the band among a generation who missed out on them the first time. Money was to be made, and confusion be damned.

1980’s Greatest Hits supplanted 13 by including two songs from L.A. Woman, but lost points for “Not To Touch The Earth” (the only explicable reason being the “I am the lizard king” lyric). 1985’s Classics went more for album tracks, but the same year’s double LP The Best Of The Doors retread both that and Greatest Hits. The ‘90s brought more interest via Oliver Stone’s movie, the soundtrack of which leaned on the idea of Jim as a poet. Greatest Hits was also expanded slightly for CD with a new cover. The new century started the wave all over again, with another sequence deemed The Best Of The Doors, and two different sets called The Very Best Of The Doors, none of which should be confused with Legacy: The Absolute Best, The Future Starts Here: The Essential Doors Hits, or The Platinum Collection.

Along with the same handful of songs included for the ninth or tenth time, some kind of rarity was always stuck in the middle of these sets to entice repeat consumers. The 2010 documentary When You’re Strange, for example, attempted to undo the myths perpetuated by Oliver Stone, and its companion CD mixed hits, poetry readings, and some live versions. It should also be no surprise that for all but three of these albums, Jim was the only guy depicted on the front cover. And only Singles, available as 20 replica 45s or a two-CD set (or a deluxe version containing a Blu-ray with the 1973 quad Best Of), touched on the music the other three made without him.

Each new set only underscored how solid Weird Scenes was, and remained. At 99 minutes, it was too long for a single CD, but the emergence of Record Store Day as a marketing ploy led to its reissue on vinyl in 2014, as well as a digital version and double-disc set, using the newest remasters and restored vocals. If you must have any, pick that up and 13.

The Doors 13 (1970)—4
The Doors Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mine (1972)—4

Bob Weir 1: Ace

Of the Grateful Dead’s front men, Bob Weir was always the most basic musically. His songs had a tendency toward good-time boogie, with no rampant experimental characteristics. It was a good balance for a live show, since the songs were simple enough to learn, but as the only selections on an album, things can get a little dull. Unless, of course, you love to boogie.

Ace is a Bob Weir solo in name only, as the basic band on every track is the Grateful Dead; moreover, it serves as the premiere of new keyboards guy Keith Godchaux, along with his wife Donna on backing vocals. “Greatest Story Ever Told” leaps out of the gate with a war whoop and exactly the type of rhythm Deadheads live for. Thanks to lyrics by Robert Hunter, the story is interesting. “Black-Throated Wind” has a different sound thanks to lyrics from Weir’s friend John Barlow, the stumbly meter, and prominent horn section, but “Walk In The Sunshine” is just plain dippy even for him. “Playing In The Band” had already appeared on the “Skull & Roses” album; here it’s nearly twice as long and more intricate, thanks to the competent piano.

The true hidden gem of the album is “Looks Like Rain”, with its perfectly heartbroken vocal, a complementary pedal steel from Jerry, and a string arrangement of all things. It’s a wonder this hasn’t been covered by more people. It could be because its effect is flattened by the goofy mariachi horns on “Mexicali Blues”—a decent saloon tune, but oh, that incessant “da-dat-dat”. “One More Saturday Night” would also be a band staple; here’s it’s just more boogie in the mode set by “Greatest Story”. With its multi-faceted lyrics and possible interpretations, “Cassidy” makes for a very effective closer.

Take the best parts of Ace and shuffle them with the vocal highlights from Garcia’s solo album from earlier in the year, and you’d have a pretty strong ’72 Dead studio album. Instead, indulgence reigned the day, even for these guys. As it is, there’s enough good on it to outweigh the rest, so it works. (A half-century later, Bob celebrated Ace’s 50th anniversary with two shows where he and his current band played the album in its entirety; one of these was included on the bonus disc of the deluxe reissue.)

Bob Weir Ace (1972)—3
2023 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1972, plus 9 extra tracks

Jerry Garcia 1: Garcia

With all the time they spent touring, it’s a wonder the members of the Grateful Dead had any time for extracurricular activities. But play they did. Due to his prowess on a variety of stringed instruments, Jerry Garcia was in high demand for his friends’ sessions, making prominent appearances on solo albums by Crosby, Stills & Nash and Paul Kantner, the first album by New Riders Of The Purple Sage, and co-billing on Hooteroll? by jazz fusion organist Howard Wales. His own solo album was very much a one-man affair; with the exception of Bill Kreutzmann on drums and lyrics by (who else?) Robert Hunter, Garcia let him loose on guitars, bass, pedal steel, and keyboards.

And since he sings anything with words, it sounds a lot like a Dead album. Side one alone is wall-to-wall: “Deal”, “Bird Song”, “Sugaree”, and “Loser”, all of which were played live by the band before the album was released, and stayed concert staples for the duration. Each is in that loping, acoustic-based mode established on the last two studio albums, so they will already sound familiar.

Back when album sides had to be flipped to hear the rest, it’s possible that many owners of this LP wore out side one. These days, if listening on CD or a cassette dub, what used to be side two would be rather harsh on one’s mellow. The first three tracks for something of a suite; “Late For Supper” and “Spiderdawg” are examples of avant-garde or musique concrete (take your pick), with the kind of dissonant piano stabs and electronic effects usually associated with early Pink Floyd, whereas “Eep Hour” is a more conventional instrumental built around minor-key triplets and Floydian changes. He stays on piano for the gospel-tinged “To Lay Me Down”, which was attempted for American Beauty but not used, but would still surface onstage from time to time. “An Odd Little Place” is a gorgeous interlude for minimalist piano and atmospheric drums, and makes a fantastic prelude for “The Wheel”, which has an epic feel and big sound considering, again, it’s all Jerry plus Bill.

The eventual expansion of Garcia presents a few of the songs in their early stages—just acoustic guitar, vocal, and drums—plus the piano-and-drums first pass through the “Eep Hour” suite. There’s even a version of “Eep Hour” itself on electric guitar that takes it to a completely new place. Even so, the original sequence worked so well on its own, so the extras are only essential for completists, who are likely trying to catch up with all the live shows the band keeps issuing.

Jerry Garcia Garcia (1972)—3½
2004 expanded CD: same as 1972, plus 8 extra tracks

Doors 8: Other Voices and Full Circle

Jim Morrison was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. He wasn’t in hiding, he wasn’t exploring his poetry, and he wasn’t breathing due to the combination of alcohol, heroin, and bathwater in his system. Jim Morrison was as dead as a door-nail.

The band still wanted to play, of course. They’d been working on new material already, having learned to fend for themselves without their lead singer around to drop his pearls of imagery. The last couple of Doors albums proved that, as a musical unit, they were tight and certainly capable. Whether anyone would care about them without the handsome guy in the leather pants out front was another question.

Other bands have rebounded successfully when they had to replace their singer, and the Doors kept it simple by splitting the task between keyboard player Ray Manzarek, who already showed his weakness on Absolutely Live, and guitarist Robbie Krieger, whose best quality is that he didn’t sound like Ray. Both guys couldn’t help but utter echoes of Jim’s swagger and laid-back delivery. Beyond that, all they needed to do was combine their instruments into enough catchy tracks to fill album sides, live shows, and hopefully, their bank accounts.

With its stark white cover and band portrait, Other Voices is a bold if indisputable claim, but the album works best when they just play. After a brief psychedelic whirl, “In The Eye Of The Sun” nails a nice swampy groove. “Ships w/Sails” is a sustainable Latin jam (unlike “Hang On To Your Life”), and “Tightrope Ride” is a direct descendant of “L.A. Woman”. “Down On The Farm” sounds the least like the Doors, but it gets distracted trying to change direction. Even the over-long “Wandering Musician” has a great hook for a slow fade. Yet, whatever one’s opinion of Jim’s “poetry”, the guys on their own were not impressive lyricists; “Variety Is The Spice Of Life” and “I’m Horny, I’m Stoned” aren’t about to make it into Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations anytime soon.

A tour behind the album with a bass player and a second guitarist convinced them they could keep going, and they did. While Other Voices contained songs that Jim could arguably have sung himself, much of Full Circle considers what they might have sounded like had they never met the guy. (Really, would he have ever exhorted a crowd to “Get Up And Dance”?) The ensemble was expanded in the studio, utilizing a lot more percussion, funky backup singers, and Charles Lloyd on sax and flute. His contribution turns “Verdilac” into near-fusion; it’s just too bad there are lyrics. “Good Rockin’ Tonight” is tackled fairly straight, except for the cacophonous piano pounding and Ray’s ill-advised growling at the end. There’s even less excuse for “The Mosquito”, a bipolar track with some great jamming but an embarrassing lyrical hook (“no me moleste mosquito”, and we’re not kidding) that helped the song chart in Spanish-speaking countries. “The Peking King And The New York Queen” tries to hard to be beat poetry, though the combination of the vocals and female additions seems to predict at least one Zappa album.

Both albums remained out of print for a few decades, and were ignored by the organization once Jim’s mythology took over. But in this century, after smaller labels did okay with semi-legitimate reissues, the band made it available for streaming. Then an official re-release paired the albums in a two-CD set, with one bonus track: the 1972 B-side “Treetrunk”. Left off Full Circle because it was “too commercial”, it’s probably the best song in the bunch.

The Doors Other Voices (1971)—3
The Doors Full Circle (1972)—2½

Jeff Beck 4: Jeff Beck Group

Jeff managed to keep the same band together for consecutive albums, and perhaps that time spent together helped the next album come together better. Prominently featuring an orange on both front and back covers for some reason, the simply titled Jeff Beck Group was recorded in Memphis with the legendary Steve Cropper producing, which probably also had a lot to do with its cohesion.

For a start, the guitar drives most of the proceedings, whether slide or wah-wah, layered where needed with different effects. When combined with straight piano, it brings to mind some of the high points of Beck-Ola; when it’s an electric piano, we’re reminded that this is Max Middleton. Bob Tench is still the singer, and gets the task of layering his own contributions in startling variations. (The female backup singers are uncredited.)

After the opening swamp boogie “Ice Cream Cakes”, covers dominate, from a boogie-flavored take on “Glad All Over” (the Carl Perkins tune, not the Dave Clark Five smash) that screams for Rod Stewart to the surprisingly soulful rejig of Dylan’s “Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here With You”. The producer didn’t play any guitar, but co-wrote “Sugar Cane” with Beck, which begins promisingly as an instrumental, but soon gains lyrics. However, “I Can’t Give Back The Love I Feel For You” is taken from a Motown torcher to a showcase for Beck with no vocals—and is that a Coral sitar?

Side two simply builds from there. Tench doesn’t do much outside the box on “Going Down”, letting the band plow through a powerful performance of a recent Freddie King hit. The Motown influence continues on “I Gotta Have A Song”, a recent Stevie Wonder album track and B-side, and another harbinger of music to come. “Highways” finds peaks and valleys in unexpected changes, taking several extended solos, while the gorgeous “Definitely Maybe” opens with twin slide leads in harmony, and follows Beck around the neck, frustratingly fading after only five minutes amid an electric piano solo.

Given its tempered emphasis on vocals, Jeff Beck Group is proof that the guitarist didn’t necessarily need a singer in his band, but apparently he wasn’t ready to go all instrumental yet. Nor was he completely thrilled with this incarnation, as he started over with a different rhythm section within months of the album’s release.

Jeff Beck Group Jeff Beck Group (1972)—3

Mott The Hoople 5: All The Young Dudes

The legend is usually more interesting than the truth, and this very much applies to the phoenix-like return of Mott The Hoople. Having become frustrated with their career path to date, the band grumbled to David Bowie, then having just exploded with the Ziggy Stardust album. He gave them a little song called “All The Young Dudes”, and Mott followed the demo to the note, but with the key embellishment of Ian Hunter’s asides during the choruses and over the fadeout. Suddenly they had a hit, were mistakenly labeled glam rock, and saw their ensuing fifth album, produced by Bowie, become a major worldwide smash.

The thing is, if not for the lead vocals, All The Young Dudes sounds more like a Bowie album than a Mott album. For one thing, the producer insisted on adding his own saxophone honking throughout. Also, his backing vocals are unmistakable, as are the synched acoustic and electric rhythm touches. The string arrangements are better matched to his albums, or even Lou Reed’s Transformer, Bowie’s other grand resuscitative gesture that year. Just to muddle the lineage, the album opens with their own tame cover of “Sweet Jane”.

Things get back to the Stonesy crunch for “Momma’s Little Jewel” and “Jerkin’ Crocus”. “Sucker” has potential, but again, belies the Bowie touch. “One Of The Boys” takes a while to get rolling, bracketed by a ringing telephone for some reason, and features a riff that Mick Ralphs would soon recycle for the opener on the first Bad Company album. Speaking of which, “Ready For Love” appears here, in a too-long version that entails both an alternate chorus and the subtitle “After Lights”. Despite the ill-advised strings, “Sea Diver” is another Ian Hunter weepie, and welcome to these ears.

The title track notwithstanding, and Verden Allen’s lead vocal on “Soft Ground” conjuring Bon Scott at his wackiest, All The Young Dudes is at its best whenever his wheezing organ dominates the mix. After all, a band’s biggest hit isn’t necessarily its best album. (For a wider picture, the eventual expanded CD added some early Bowie-less rough drafts, a couple of live versions from a year after the album was released, and an alternate mix of the hit single with Bowie himself singing the verses against Ian’s usual chorus.) At least Mott was given a chance to keep going, and they would, and did.

Mott The Hoople All The Young Dudes (1972)—3
2006 remastered expanded CD: same as 1972, plus 7 extra tracks

Cat Stevens 5: Catch Bull At Four

It’s odd to use the term “one-two punch” for albums as gentle as Tea For The Tillerman and Teaser And The Firecat, but commercially, that’s what they were. And with a little more cash coming in, Cat Stevens could spend more time in the studio recording bigger music (plus getting custom labels for his next record). Catch Bull At Four was a hit, of course, but it doesn’t have the brilliant consistency of that one-two punch.

Where the last few albums began with an acoustic guitar, a strident piano opens “Sitting”, another wonderful song about searching, propelled by drums and an electric mandolin. “Boy With A Moon & Star On His Head” is a cross between a fable and a folk song, going a long way toward a simple message about the reward in responsibility. “Angelsea” gets pretty repetitive after a while, the same three chords, wordless chanting and rumbling synth effects. But “Silent Sunlight” is a pretty hymn, and “Can’t Keep It In” a fairly catchy pop song, albeit with some challenging meter changes.

Side two is a more ambitious, and ultimately denser. “18th Avenue”, subtitled “Kansas City Nightmare” in the lyrics, seems to detail a less-than-pleasant experience passing through the town of the same name, and could the house of “Freezing Steel” with its cold lamb and potatoes be an airline joke? “O Caritas” pits lyrics in Latin against a bouzouki-heavy arrangement, diluting the message. “Sweet Scarlet”, sung solo at the piano, is said to be about Carly Simon, and can you blame him, but rather than end the album that quietly, “Ruins” follows a welcome strum until the drums illustrate the tension of visiting a place left behind.

Taken on its own, Catch Bull At Four is good, but not great. He would be increasingly uncomfortable with the life he’d taken on, but not so much that he refused to be photographed with a shirt open to the navel.

Cat Stevens Catch Bull At Four (1972)—3

Flying Burrito Bros 4: Last Of The Red Hot Burritos

The Burritos may have been done, but they still had contractual obligations. For a final tour, Chris Hillman brought in Al Perkins on pedal steel and Kenny Wertz on guitar and banjo to replace the departed Sneaky Pete and Bernie Leadon respectively, plus a couple of Wertz’s earlier bandmates, Byron Berline on fiddle and Roger Bush on upright bass. These two would be incremental in the band’s set, as heard on Last Of The Red Hot Burritos.

Released as last gasp after Hillman ran off to Stephen Stills’ Manassas project (bringing Al Perkins with him), the album presents possibly the closest thing to the original spirit of the band, melding country and rock and with a healthy supply of Hillman’s beloved bluegrass. Beginning with a sprightly romp through “Devil In Disguise”, “Six Days On The Road”, and “My Uncle”, they were facing a highly appreciative, raucous crowd. The acoustic, overtly bluegrass portion of the set includes “Dixie Breakdown”, “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”, and “Orange Blossom Special”, and is just as well received.

The band rocks again on “Ain’t That A Lot Of Love” and “Don’t Fight It”, which fit right in with the Memphis tracks on their first album, while a swampy take on “High Fashion Queen” is a nice diversion. Chris does a nice job singing “Hot Burrito #2”, to which Perkins thankfully adds some fuzz, and the set ends with the obscure James Carr tune “Losing Game”, which features piano that wasn’t onstage.

Last Of The Red Hot Burritos was elsewhere sweetened before release in the studio, with additional piano as well as guitar to “Orange Blossom Special”. Rick Roberts is a decent singer, but doesn’t have the same harmonic blend with Hillman as Gram Parsons had. The packaging was odd, with a gatefold that features photos of everyone who was ever in the band, and liner notes based around interviews with Gram and Sneaky Pete. It’s still a nice bookend to the band, especially if you ignore the revamped version of the group that would stumble around the late ‘70s and on. (Over the years the Burritos’ legend has only grown, but it would be another four decades before further live documents officially emerged—most notably an “authorized bootleg” from a year before Last Of The Red Hot Burritos when Bernie and Sneaky Pete were still in the band.)

The Flying Burrito Bros. Last Of The Red Hot Burritos (1972)—3
The Flying Burrito Brothers Authorized Bootleg/Fillmore East, New York, N.Y. – Late Show, November 7, 1970 (2011)—3