David Bowie 24: Sound + Vision

Rykodisc scored a major coup when they acquired the rights to reissue Bowie’s RCA catalog, a rollout that was prefaced by a box set. Sound + Vision was fairly advanced for its time, being one of the first superstar box sets and one that included a visual element, both in the packaging and the inclusion of a disc with video content. The sound was hailed as “better” than the earlier RCA CDs, but somehow it seemed incomplete. Looking back, it’s obvious that this was not destined to be a hits collection, as many of the hits were included in alternate renditions. It served as a good teaser for the individual reissues, most of which had bonus tracks, none of which repeated rarities from the box. (Moreover, many of the rare tracks included here have yet to be reissued as part of the box set campaign in the next century.)

The approach is obvious from the start, with a demo of “Space Oddity” followed by some early singles. Two songs each appear from The Man Who Sold The World, Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust, and Aladdin Sane, interspersed with more B-sides and outtakes. The disc ends with three tracks from the final Ziggy concert.

Things get more interesting for casual fans on the second disc, starting with three tracks from Pin Ups, a couple of rarities from Diamond Dogs and three inexcusable selections from David Live. Young Americans is represented by the two tracks plus one of its outtakes; they were saving the better ones for the CD itself. Two tracks from Station To Station are prefaced by an unreleased cover of Springsteen’s “It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City”.

The third disc begins appropriately with the Berlin era, and includes three songs from each of the remaining albums in the RCA deal. It’s a great way to get acquainted with some of his more challenging material, although the inclusion of the German version of “‘Heroes’” is maddening if you don’t speak German.

The first edition of the box set included a disc in the CD-video format, which included three live recordings from 1972, and the video for “Ashes To Ashes”. That particular format never took off, so a later edition of the box included a CD-ROM in its place. When Rykodisc redid the box again in 2003, they not only added a fourth disc, but maximized the capacity of the first three discs by pushing everything back, so there was a total of 100 minutes of material not on the first edition. (By this time, the live tracks on the original fourth disc had ended up on the expanded Aladdin Sane anyway.)

David Bowie Sound + Vision (1989)—4
2003 reissue: same as 1990, plus 24 extra tracks (and minus 4 tracks)

Brian Eno 14: Shutov Assembly and Neroli

Despite his recent re-emergence into the vocal field, Eno was still entranced by his own experiments in multimedia art installations, many of which were accompanied by what we’ll still call ambient music. Originally issued two months after Nerve Net, The Shutov Assembly offered ten instrumental pieces, each with titles nine letters long, enabling him to list them on the cover word-search style. The cover also revealed that the music had been created over a period from the mid- to late ‘80s; indeed, most of it picks up where On Land (save the frogs) and Apollo left off.

Taken for background music—for which it was apparently designed, Shutov being the name of a Russian artist who had trouble acquiring Eno albums in the Soviet era, leading the man himself to prepare this compilation—it’s sufficient. Overall it’s more spooky than soothing, whereas the tracks included on the bonus disc with the 2014 reissue, while apparently from the same era, are more in line with the discordant and jarring rhythmic tracks on Nerve Net, and could even pass for further Music For Films.

That said, “soothing” was more what he intended to express with Neroli. In possibly his wackiest concept yet, this hour-long piece was supposedly inspired by an essential oil common to aromatherapy, suggesting that Eno was about to enter the fragrance market. According to the liner notes (ascribed to one C.S.J. Bofop, one of Eno’s more common pseudonyms) it is further suggested that the piece had already been successfully used as an aural salve in certain maternity wards. Adding to our confusion, “Neroli” is subtitled “Thinking Music Part IV”, leaving us to wonder what the first three parts were.

The music is very quiet, a low-end keyboard slowly wandering through what musical experts tell us is a modal scale. To these ears it’s just a minor key improvisation played by a piano in the same muted frequency as a bass guitar, with plenty of sustain. And just when you think it’s over, it starts up again. Like “Discreet Music” and “Thursday Afternoon”, the piece could be considered to be indefinite, though the technology for him to create something like that for people to consume on their own had yet to be invented. (Neroli’s own bonus disc in 2014 contained another single hour-long track. “New Space Music” further extends the Apollo connection, presenting a drone in a major key that’s frankly a lot more interesting than the main program.)

Brian Eno The Shutov Assembly (1992)—3
2014 expanded edition: same as 1992, plus 7 extra tracks
Brian Eno Neroli (1993)—3
2014 expanded edition: same as 1993, plus I extra track

Brian Eno 13: Nerve Net and My Squelchy Life

If there’s a holy grail in the Eno catalog, My Squelchy Life was it. Said to be a pop album, his first real solo vocal release since the late ‘70s, it was announced, delayed, and disappeared. In its place arrived Nerve Net, an edgy, off-putting set that didn’t so much break new ground as walk over what his disciples had done in his absence. Neither industrial nor techno, it struggled to catch fire with new fans and old alike.

For most of the album, vocals are used more for atmosphere than lyrical content. “Wire Shock” is designed for the dance floor, as is “What Actually Happened?”, wherein the vocoder disguises a narrative of sexual assault. “Fractal Zoom” and “Ali Click” were each subject to multiple remixes, the latter likely due to its use of the “Manchester beat” via EMF.

And therein lies part of our problem with the album, and the time in which it appeared: the remix. All of a sudden there wasn’t a definite version of anything. Every track with any kind of beat was given over to some engineer who would rejig it into something different yet the same. It made an expensive hobby even more so when a fan was driven to track down everything. It also made for a confusing listening experience when an album would include another version of a track, as Nerve Net does. After “Distributed Being” featuring Robert Fripp and John Paul Jones, the album ends with not just “Web”, a six-minute drone, but an even longer alternate mix, together pushing the program needlessly over an hour.

But in this century, when everything old is new again, the world can re-assess Nerve Net in the form of a deluxe expanded CD that includes—ta-da!—My Squelchy Life as the bonus disc. The album wasn’t completely lost, of course; three of the tracks made it to Nerve Net (one under a different title), others were on CD singles and the occasional soundtrack, while a further five were a selling point for 1993’s Vocal box. And now, dare we say, it’s easier to appreciate Nerve Net as part of the bigger picture—well, sort of. “My Squelchy Life” and “Juju Space Jazz” are just as off-kilter here, while “The Roil, The Choke” emerges better from a weird spoken piece into a lush, harmonic treat. “I Fall Up”, with its insistent “more volts! I’m sucking the juice from the generator!” hook is a great opener, and “The Harness” is an extremely melodic follower. The “moon piano” solo piece called “Decentre”, labeled “Appendix” on the Nerve Net sleeve, turns out to have been “Little Apricot” on Squelchy. Still, tracks like “Tutti Forgetti” and “Everybody’s Mother” are just as jarring as what did come out on Nerve Net.

Taken together, these albums now present a more satisfying follow-up to the collaboration with John Cale of only a few years before. But it also shows that in the ‘90s, Eno was more content working with sounds, not songs, and would rather let the likes of U2 and James use his talents for theirs.

Brian Eno Nerve Net (1992)—2½
2014 expanded edition: same as 1992, plus 11 extra tracks

George Harrison 14: Brainwashed

Suddenly we were living in a world with only two Beatles, and one of them was Ringo. While we hadn’t had any new music from George in over ten years, at least he’d been somewhat active. He had performed some of the better numbers at 1992’s Bobfest, and got completely involved with the whole Anthology project. He beat cancer, won an embezzlement suit and even survived a stabbing. And then cancer came back and took him, and he went happily. Thankfully, he was nice enough to prepare an album that said goodbye to us.

He calls for more guitar, and “Any Road” carries us off. This song was previewed on VH1, on an interview they’d sat on until after he’d died, and it’s a gem. “P2 Vatican Blues (Last Saturday Night)” takes a few stabs at organized religion amidst some cryptic lyrics. “Pisces Fish” is really smooth, with a wonderful reference to “Canadian geese crap”. “Looking For My Life” seems like a reaction to the attack, but is actually an affirmation of faith. “Rising Sun” is similar musically to “Pisces Fish” but different enough to be just as good. “Marwa Blues” is a beautiful (and even Grammy-winning) instrumental with lots of weeping guitars and a nod towards “Strawberry Fields” in the middle.

“Stuck Inside A Cloud” was an odd choice for the first single, very reminiscent of his early-’80s sound with lots of electric piano played by son Dhani. “(Can Only) Run So Far” had appeared on an earlier Eric Clapton album, and is probably the weakest track here. “Never Get Over You” hearkens back to the love songs on Extra Texture crossed with the production of Somewhere In England, but stands head and shoulders above those songs. We know George loved the ukulele and old standards, which makes his version of “Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea” so charming. “Rocking Chair In Hawaii” is something of a surprise to ccollectors, considering that its seeds came from the All Things Must Pass sessions. All this leads up to the grand finale of the title track, an angry litany of the evils of the 21st century, much like “Save The World” was twenty odd years earlier. There’s a midsection with a reading from some ancient text, then back to the driving verses. What sounds like another detour turns out to be the big finish, a hypnotic chant performed by father and son. And that’s the end.

Brainwashed would be a good album even if George had lived to promote it. Dhani gets most of the kudos for learning from his dad, and he even manages to keep Jeff Lynne in check. All sorts of friends helped out, and it sounds like the sessions, however long a period they covered, were a lot of fun. We can only hope we’ll get more buried gems one day.

George Harrison Brainwashed (2002)—4

Neil Young 37: Living With War

Neil had barely begun promoting the previous autumn’s Prairie Wind (and accompanying Heart Of Gold concert film) when he quickly recorded and released Living With War. These nine spontaneous, angry songs immediately divided fans and critics over both the quality of the music and the subject matter. It wasn’t the first time he’d reacted to a situation with a protest song, as demonstrated by “Ohio”, “War Song” and “Let’s Roll”. Now, however, he had the Internet and social networking to help do his publicity. The songs were recorded in the space of a week, and released to radio, streaming and stores a month later. Amazingly, his label was behind it, and the occasion of its debut to corporate made it to CNN.

It’s not like he set out to piss anyone off; if someone else had written these songs, he said, he wouldn’t have had to, but as nobody was stepping up, he did. Which brings us to the big question: how are the songs, anyway?

Anyone expecting the next “We Shall Overcome”, “Blowin’ In The Wind”, or even “Ohio” will be disappointed. Most of the songs use the same chord sequences on a virtual loop, and many of the lyrics fall back on “don’t need no” lists. To his credit, many of the songs are less knee-jerk rants against the Bush administration, but actually trying to get in the heads of veterans, current soldiers and the families left behind.

“After The Garden” is a strong start, with a decent chorus and intricate (for Neil) guitar interlude. The title track displays the shortcomings of the album via the trumpet and choir accompaniment that demonstrate his thin voice and elementary-school approach. “The Restless Consumer” is the third song in a row built around “don’t need no” lyrics, and unfortunately leaves him too angry to sing properly. A similar relentless tempo and vocal anchors “Shock And Awe”, which attempts to put recent history in perspective. “Families” keeps the same pace, but at least provides a major key and a more hopeful lyric.

Thinking back to an earlier war, “Flags Of Freedom” namechecks Bob Dylan, and could have been written forty years earlier, except for the part about headphones and flat-screen TVs. The song that naturally got the most attention was “Let’s Impeach The President”, which pretty much spells out the indictment, complete with juxtaposed soundbites right out of the Michael Moore school of editing. “Lookin’ For A Leader” attempts to offer another solution, reminding us that government isn’t just about politics, and even predicting the ascent of Barack Obama. A imaginary conversation between the living and the dead, “Roger And Out” is one of the few songs that sits easily outside the concept. Except for one instrumental bridge, it sounds a little too much like “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”. Finally, an a cappella “America The Beautiful”, performed by the choir, pointedly closes the program.

Sonically, it’s dripping with aggravation, Neil’s corrosive guitar illustrating the carnage. True to a Volume Dealers production, the simple rhythm section consists of Rick Rosas and Chad Cromwell, playing a lot louder than they did on Prairie Wind. (Living With War: In The Beginning appeared at year’s end, featuring the pre-choral mixes of the album—minus, of course, “America The Beautiful”—and a companion DVD consisting of many of the clips that had been streaming at his Living With War Today website.)

Neil felt strongly enough about the songs and the cause to convince Crosby, Stills & Nash to join him for a tour, documented in the CSNY/Déjà Vu documentary and accompanying album. They were probably glad to have the work, and Graham happily sang along with all of Neil’s angry lyrics. Stills and Crosby sound more ragged than ever, and interestingly are shown on the cover in ‘60s photos as opposed to the current shots of the other two. The mood of the tour is accurately displayed by the ramshackle take on “Military Madness” and the boos following “Let’s Impeach The President”. (For Neil’s part, he never did quite figure out how to pronounce “steroids”.) A piano version of “Living With War” bookends the set, unfortunately dressed up with synth strings.

Neil Young Living With War (2006)—3
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young CSNY/Déjà Vu Live (2008)—2½

Tom Petty 17: Mudcrutch

Long story short: Mudcrutch presents a “reunion” of the band that got Tom Petty et al to Hollywood in the first place, leading to the formation of the Heartbreakers. The 21st century version of the band was poised as a democracy, but for all intents and purposes, this is still a Tom Petty album. It’s even got Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench along to entice the wary. (It’s unknown whether any of the original Petty compositions on this album date from those early days; the covers were probably regular set fixtures.)

The overall feel is “loose”, a sound directly connected to Clarence White-era Byrds—complete with a faithful cover of “Lover Of The Bayou” and an Appalachian take on “Shady Grove”—and The Flying Burrito Brothers, who famously covered “Six Days On The Road” and for a time featured Bernie Leadon, later of the Eagles and the brother of Tom Leadon, the other guitarist featured here. Two covers, one an instrumental, showcase playing over lyrics, and Benmont even gets to sing one of his own. “Scare Easy” and “The Wrong Thing To Do” could have fit on any Petty album, and “Orphan Of The Storm” is a subtle nod to the Katrina situation. In a pleasant surprise, the most successful track is the nine-minute “Crystal River”, which somehow never drags.

It’s more relaxed than his previous album, a one-man-band project and one of the more underwhelming albums of 2006. Unfortunately, Petty’s voice, which has always been an acquired taste, seems more nasal and tired than ever. Its redneck tone works on some of the character songs, but the yell that carried such classics as Damn The Torpedoes and Hard Promises is sorely missed. What a drag it is getting old. While Petty’s best work may be behind him, he’s still a master of getting so much out of the usual chords, and therefore worth the attention.

Mudcrutch Mudcrutch (2008)—3

Robyn Hitchcock 5: Gotta Let This Hen Out!

The Egyptians became a real live band on Gotta Let This Hen Out!, recorded (and filmed) live at London’s famous Marquee Club. From the start the band is tight and Robyn sounds confident, reveling in his growing role as Syd Barrett’s heir.

For the most part, the songs are equal to their studio versions, and in some cases are even improved upon. “Sometimes I Wish I Was A Pretty Girl” works well in the electric setting (although now he’s wrecking himself in the shower instead of just looking). “Acid Bird” is excellent, while “America” and “The Cars She Used To Drive” take big steps up from Groovy Decay. “Brenda’s Iron Sledge” is just as fun, with different lyrics; Robyn tends to change his words live a lot, so pay attention.

From the new album, “The Fly” goes far too long, but “My Wife And My Dead Wife”, “Egyptian Cream” and the glorious “Heaven” more than compensate. For Soft Boys fans, “Kingdom Of Love”, “Only The Stones Remain”, “Leppo And The Jooves” and “The Face Of Death” get revived and attract new listeners. The boys even swap instruments for “Listening To The Higsons”, another dumb singalong and that’s meant in a good way.

Gotta Let This Hen Out! is an very enjoyable live album, and mostly because the band is so good, especially on the songs they hadn’t recorded. After all this time, we want to know: did they only play for less than an hour? Apparently so, because the Yep Roc version, while faithful to the previous CDs, added a whopping five songs, but from a show recorded three years later in another country. They give Robyn a chance to stretch on the guitar, but don’t quite match the heat of the main program.

Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians Gotta Let This Hen Out! (1985)—4
1986 CD: same as 1985, plus 3 extra tracks
1995 Rhino reissue: same as 1986 CD
2008 Yep Roc: same as Rhino, plus 5 extra tracks