Bob Dylan 46: No Direction Home

Since his last new album, our cups had overflowed with archival titles. The so-called soundtrack to the excellent PBS/Martin Scorsese documentary No Direction Home offered two CDs worth of stuff from the vaults. (Like the film, the cutoff was July 1966; following the numbering scheme set up by the box set, technically this release should have been considered volumes seven and eight.)

It’s not strictly a soundtrack to the film, but it does try to follow a chronological thread and include pieces of historic value. Two early “pre-professional” recordings show the sound of the kid before he discovered Woody Guthrie, underscored by a live performance of “This Land Is Your Land” and his own “Song To Woody”, taken from the debut. A variety of live performances and demos follow, plus such key outtakes as “Sally Gal” from Freewheelin’ and the first recording of “Mr. Tambourine Man”, sung as an out-of-tune duet with Ramblin’ Jack Elliot from the wine-soaked Another Side sessions. What stands out are the live acoustic performances, which sit alongside the recorded catalog to demonstrate why he was such a Big Deal.

With a few exceptions, the selections on the second disc underscore that Bob was right to use the established takes on the original albums. Some of those nuggets include the alternate “Desolation Row” with electric guitar, another early take of “Visions Of Johanna”, a slow stomp through “Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat” and the blast of “Maggie’s Farm” from Newport that may or may not have pissed everybody off. The disc ends appropriately with two live performances with the Hawks—“Ballad Of A Thin Man” from Edinburgh, and the famous “Judas” performance of “Like A Rolling Stone”, which of course closed Live 1966.

No Direction Home offers some diversion here and there, but it wasn’t exactly the most revelatory of the Bootleg Series. But the home office wasn’t done yet, as they served up two additional titles the same week. Live At The Gaslight 1962 gave people a reason to find a nearby Starbucks, as the coffee chain had the exclusive rights to it for the first year. As a collection of coffeehouse recordings from the folkie days, it got more repeat plays, as did Live At Carnegie Hall 1963, available only as a promo freebie and soon ubiquitous on eBay. Both offer lovely versions of both familiar songs and folk standards, in tighter a snapshot.

Bob Dylan The Bootleg Series Vol. 7—No Direction Home: The Soundtrack (2005)—3½
Bob Dylan Live At The Gaslight 1962 (2005)—4

Neil Young 40: Sugar Mountain

By now the continual teasing about the Archives had become maddening. Things weren’t helped by Neil’s insistence that the two installments in the “Performance Series” (Volumes 2 and 3 out of at least 12) that had already come out would be included in the Archives box when it finally, supposedly, would appear. To make things even more confusing, an installment dubbed Volume 0 (as in zero) was released with the explanation that it was not going to be part of the box set. (As it turned out, it was included in the DVD and Blu-ray versions of the box.)

Sugar Mountain was recorded over two nights in November 1968, from which the classic B-side that gave this collection its title had been recorded. It’s a fascinating document, captured at a point in his career where he was known (if at all) as the guy from Buffalo Springfield who had yet to release his first solo album. He mixes songs from the Springfield with his new originals deftly, interspersed with somewhat stoney commentary between songs. Each of the “raps”, some of which go on for a few minutes, is given its own track, which can be convenient. It’s a small room, so the performance is intimate, almost conversational. He manages to keep the crowd rapt for all eight minutes of “The Last Trip To Tulsa”. There’s even an early performance of “Birds”, which wouldn’t make an album for two years, and a demonstration of the melody for “Winterlong”, which was nine years away from record stores. And of course, the classic “Sugar Mountain” fits fine in its initial context.

Later eras would be heavily mined for release, which has managed to elevate Sugar Mountain in stature, but the selection from a repertoire that would only balloon exponentially is special. He wasn’t truly famous yet, making it a nice snapshot indeed. Even if the cover photo was from the year before.

Neil Young Sugar Mountain: Live At Canterbury House 1968 (2008)—3½

Led Zeppelin 12: BBC Sessions

In the ‘90s it had become de rigueur for bands—particularly those from the ‘60s—to dig up tapes of their old BBC radio appearances for a cash cow CD. They were always live performances, less polished than album sessions, and often sported unique songs that weren’t available otherwise. Starting after the success of the Beatles’ BBC set, there was talk in the industry that other similar sets would be released through a single distributor. Luckily, in the more popular cases (the Beatles, The Who, David Bowie) the artists themselves, along with their own labels, got directly involved, generally resulting in a better produced, more personal package.

Several existing hours of Zeppelin’s appearances on the BBC have floated around on illicit collections; two-and-a-half of those hours were included on this collection. All of the first disc comes from various 1969 sessions, some of which occurred within a few weeks or even days of each other. Several songs from their debut are replayed and extended, showing more debt to various blues artists. The rarities stand out: “The Girl I Love She Got Long Wavy Hair” features the riff that was later used to bookend “Moby Dick” and some howling lyrics, while “Somethin’ Else” is a chaotic piano-driven version of the Eddie Cochran classic, and is tons of fun. The disc closes with the majority of the excellent Playhouse Theater show whence “White Summer/Black Mountain Side” on the first box set came.

Disc two delivers the bulk of a 1971 show from the Paris Theater, just before the release of Zoso. Right away you can hear how their set had changed in two years. This was one of the first-ever live performances of “Stairway”; non-collectors will notice that “Black Dog” uses its live intro taken from “Out On The Tiles”. There’s a lovely acoustic pairing of “Going To California” and “That’s The Way”, “Dazed And Confused” is now over 18 minutes with a bow section, and an extended “Whole Lotta Love” touches on several blues and rockabilly tunes.

On its initial release, BBC Sessions was an essential if long-overdue addition to the Zeppelin canon, providing an excellent glimpse of their earlier live shows. Of course there were some exclusions that some people complained over, but both discs were packed pretty full, and the compilers were pretty sure five versions of “Communication Breakdown” would have been more redundant than the three they did include. They still felt fine about repeating “Traveling Riverside Blues” from the 1990 box, but not “White Summer”. But such quibbles pale while the album’s playing.

Much of this was rectified when, after the rapid-fire expansion of the entire Zeppelin catalog, The Complete BBC Sessions added a third disc to the original two. Now the title was truly accurate, save a few snippets from some of the longer medleys shaved to keep from having to pay too much on royalties outside the band. These additions complete both the Playhouse Theater and Paris Theater shows, adding those missing versions of “Communication Breakdown”, two more of “What Is And What Should Never Be”, an 11-minute “Dazed And Confused”, and yes, even “White Summer”. Just to prove they weren’t kidding, there’s even a “missing” 1969 session only preserved on a crappy tape that features the otherwise unreleased “Sunshine Woman”, a neat piano-driven prototype of “The Girl I Love” and “Travelling Riverside Blues”. Due to a noticeable static whine, those tracks end the set for maximum overall listenability; with a little creativity, the home user can create a truly chronological set that puts the first four sessions on one disc, the complete Playhouse Theater on the next, and the Paris Theater show spread across two more. Or you just can be happy Jimmy put it out at all.

Led Zeppelin BBC Sessions (1997)—4
2016 The Complete BBC Sessions: same as 1997, plus 9 extra tracks

Jimmy Page & Robert Plant 1: No Quarter

Jimmy’s recent musical gamble paid off big time. Basically, Plant gave in to the stalemate, taking Page’s actions to mean that if Robert didn’t sing with him again, Page would just keep recording with David Coverdale. Still, it was a surprise to hear that the two were teaming up for an MTV unplugged show, and it wouldn’t be just a one-off gig.

Being 1994, of course, it wasn’t strictly unplugged anymore. No Quarter: Unledded took the songs the two liked most and extended them to include more overt Celtic and Arabic touches. While having Jimmy around was certainly a plus, Plant was definitely calling the shots. The musicians consisted of his touring band, plus a variety of symphonic and Egyptian players. “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” is transformed from a heavy blues to a hurdy-gurdy driven lament, and the “title track” is purely acoustic, devoid of any of John Paul Jones’s influence. “The Battle Of Evermore”, “Since I’ve Been Loving You” and “Kashmir” get full orchestral treatments, while “Four Sticks” and “Friends” are expanded to the Eastern sound both envisioned.

A couple of new tunes were recorded live on location in the streets of Marrakesh; “City Don’t Cry” makes the most of traditional Moroccan instruments, and Page turns it up to 11 for “Yallah” while the locals scratch their heads. The best new song, “Wonderful One”, was a descendant of “The Rain Song” and the DADGAD tuning, and left one hoping for more new music like it.

No Quarter: Unledded was a success, but was released the same day as another long-awaited reunion, that of the Eagles, whose own album ended up selling about eight million more copies. One person who might have gotten a kick out of such competition would be John Paul Jones, who famously thanked the other two for remembering his phone number when they were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame the following year.

Ten years after its original release, the show appeared on DVD, accompanied by a rejigged version of the album. The track previously known as “Yallah” was retitled “The Truth Explodes”, while the international-only track “Wah Wah” was included, as was “The Rain Song” for the first time. Several tracks were edited from their original length, and “Thank You” was removed completely. (The DVD also includes the onetime B-sides “What Is And What Should Never Be” and “When The Levee Breaks”, neither of which had been on either CD.)

Jimmy Page & Robert Plant No Quarter: Unledded (1994)—3½
2004 reissue: same as 1994, plus 2 extra tracks (and minus 1 track)

Robert Plant 6: Fate Of Nations

While Jimmy Page was off playing with David Coverdale, Robert Plant was busy treading his own path. Because of the timing, Fate Of Nations does offer something of a response to that project. But this was already Robert’s sixth full-length solo album, and repeats the cycle already established: put together a band, record and tour behind two albums, then fracture it on the third. Most of his recent recruits are here, but fight for space with other collaborators, while the production is shared with Chris Hughes, best known for his work with Adam And The Ants and Tears For Fears.

The album finds him looking back to the Arabian influences he’d skirted since Zeppelin, while lyrical concerns about the state of the planet (reflected in the artwork) hearken back to the “hippie music” he’d sung before them. It’s a more introspective album than we’d come to expect, but that’s not immediately apparent. “Calling To You” distills “Kashmir” into a 6/4 stomp, and a distinctive violin solo from Nigel Kennedy. “Down To The Sea” is a little more mystical, and “Come Into My Life” only catches fire when Richard Thompson takes one of his iconic solos. And there’s “I Believe”, a movingly intense song that’s an unspoken tribute to his son Karac, who died at the height of Zeppelin’s fame (and quite possibly the biggest reason why he’s always been on the fence about reviving the band). “29 Palms” is an actual radio-friendly love song, of all things, his first and last one for a while. “Memory Song (Hello Hello)” returns to the Mideast for three pounding minutes until an actual modulation occurs.

The most striking departure is a cover of Tim Hardin’s “If I Were A Carpenter”, with vintage string arrangement, Coral sitars and other echoes of the time. If anything, it foreshadows his work in the next century. That mood is blasted away by “Promised Land”, a pale rejig of “When The Levee Breaks”. “The Greatest Gift” is another moody love song, with a prominent string arrangement and a chorus that sounds familiar. “Great Spirit” wanders along, just as “Network News” ends the program with a lot of clatter. These songs were obviously very important to him, as they’re the only ones that had lyrics in the packaging, but social commentary is not why we listen to Robert Plant.

But while there’s nothing wrong with Fate Of Nations, it just didn’t excite. It was also likely the first album he made with CDs in mind, without considering where the sides might start and end. Therefore many of the songs are way too long, so pruning it down from an hour to a more concise 40-45 minutes would have been a big help. (The eventual bonus tracks were a mixed bag. “Colours Of A Shade” was originally unique to the UK, and welcome here, while a Delta blues-style “acoustic mix” of “Great Spirit” is as revealing as the “Dark Moon” collaboration with Ranier Ptacek. “Rollercoaster” sports the Manchester beat, but it’s still catchy, and “8:05” is an acoustic cover of a Moby Grape tune.)

If there’s a lesson to be learned from his post-Zeppelin career, it’s the value of a foil, or a steady collaboratorIf there’s a lesson to be learned from his post-Zeppelin career, it’s the value of a foil, or a steady collaborator, who can provide the right levels of camaraderie and contrast. Fans could be forgiven for hoping Page and Plant would just get it over with and do something together already.

Robert Plant Fate Of Nations (1993)—2½
2007 remastered CD: same as 1993, plus 5 extra tracks

Jimmy Page 3: Coverdale Page

Things were quiet on the Zeppelin front for a few years, until what sounded like a really bad rumor came true: Page had recorded an entire album with David Coverdale of Whitesnake. Even more frightening was the result that Coverdale•Page turned out to be pretty good. Coverdale took a rougher, more “Axl” approach for his singing, and Page came up with new riffs in a production style that hadn’t aged yet.

We need to say this again—the album’s pretty good. “Shake My Tree” and “Pride And Joy” sport classic Page riffs and solos. “Take Me For A Little While” may veer close to power balladry, but the guitars more than make up for it. Throughout, Jimmy plays more “sober” than ever, if that’s a fair description. A decent solo rises from the mix here and there; “Absolution Blues”, despite having the most tenuous connection to the blues, gives him a good couple of minutes to layer on some “scary sounds” for the intro. “Easy Does It”, “Over Now” and about half of the over-long “Don’t Leave Me This Way” also balance their contrasts well.

It’s easy to forget that Coverdale was already a veteran, having sung with Deep Purple in the mid-‘70s. Whitesnake wasn’t much more than an obscure joke until the hair metal era posed the singer as another Plant clone. Besides, it’s not like Page hooked up with Bret Michaels or the guy from Kingdom Come. Both singer and guitarist get equal billing in the writing credits, but it’s easy to blame David for some of the rhymes. “Feeling Hot” is a little silly and “Waiting On You” admittedly “classic” Whitesnake; “Take A Look At Yourself” isn’t too far removed from the type of thing Aerosmith had been doing of late. Such a thing might be expected when the “John Kalodner: John Kalodner” credit appears in the booklet. “Whisper A Prayer For The Dying” would have really pissed off Robert Plant, with all the yelling over lifts from “Kashmir”.

Coverdale•Page is one of the more satisfying offshoots in the Zeppelin canon, if people could just overlook the simple fact that David Coverdale was singing over a rhythm section featuring the drummer from Heart (and Montrose) and the bass player from Miami Sound Machine. The lyrics are printed in full in the booklet, unfortunately, but the tunes are just plain catchy so we don’t pay attention to those anyway. Even today.

Coverdale•Page Coverdale•Page (1993)—3

Paul McCartney 28: Chaos And Creation In The Backyard

Ever since he established himself as the chief surviving Beatle, news of any new McCartney album has always brought a mix of anticipation and dread. Such was the case with Chaos And Creation In The Backyard. The first disturbing sign was the title, accompanied by a cover based on a photo brother Michael took some 45 years previously. Then came the news that not only was it produced by the guy who worked with Radiohead and Beck, but the crackerjack band he was soon to tour with were not used; rather he played most everything himself, leading to the obvious comparisons to his first album (but none to the less-heralded McCartney II or Flaming Pie).

Our fear was unfounded. Each of the tracks here was honed to near-perfection, and nothing sounds like it was tossed off in a few minutes. Rather than the homemade sound of the McCartneys or the slap-dash but pleasant Pie, here he went into a room with a young producer who had the cojones to goad him into completing tracks worthy of the McCartney brand.

“Fine Line” is probably the best place to start the program, since it’s the most overtly McCartneyesque song here. Musically it’s a cross between “Flaming Pie” (the song) and “Keep Under Cover” (from Pipes Of Peace), and it’s a toe-tapper. “How Kind Of You” is based around a series of loops, mostly of wine glasses. It’s a mysterious one, and sits there until the buildup in the last half, which really takes hold. “Jenny Wren” is very reminiscent of early Wings stuff, and comparing it to “Blackbird”, as so many did, sells it short; it’s very original, and takes what could have been a lazy rewrite to another level. We’ve yet to figure out what “At The Mercy” sounds like. “Friends To Go” was said to have been written in George’s style, and it shows particularly in the chords and harmonies. George might have even liked it. While “English Tea” may come too close to “Cups And Cakes” by Spinal Tap, at least it’s short, with a flute solo from “Happiness Runs” off Mary Hopkin’s first album. At the same time, “Too Much Rain” is a little too close to “Young Boy”, but there’s a Wings feel on this, and a good ending too.

“A Certain Softness” is one of the few that features other players, so maybe that’s why it sounds out of place. “Riding To Vanity Fair” starts out with the same vibe as heard on World Party’s song with a similar title; no word yet on what Karl Wallinger thinks about it. It’s a rare mood for Paul, spooky and genuinely pissed off. “Follow Me” isn’t great, except for the middle bit. Fats Domino meets the Beach Boys in “Promise To You Girl”. He sounds decades younger, particularly in that guitar solo, but unfortunately it ends too quickly. Except for that bass, the first 30 seconds or so of the atmospheric “This Never Happened Before” don’t sound at all like him. The grand closer “Anyway” is a perfect example of what makes him so good. Like “Only Love Remains” or “Beautiful Night”, it would stand out on one of his not-so-stellar albums, except here it’s on an album full of more worthy companions. The steal from “People Get Ready” wears off soon enough, making way for a nod to “Little Willow”. (Apparently the hidden track, a hodgepodge not unlike “Rinse The Raindrops”, is called “I’ve Only Got Two Hands”. It definitely runs rings around “Ou Est Le Soleil”.)

The album divided a lot of people, which is too bad; overall it’s very strong, very focused and very mature. “Fine Line” may be the only one he tossed off quickly; the rest definitely sound like they were worked on and honed to satisfaction. Sonically it could even be compared to the White Album, in that there’s almost a claustrophobic feeling to the tracks.

If the sober-sounding Chaos And Creation In The Backyard was to be Paul’s last statement as a songwriter, it would have been an amazing one. Luckily, he hasn’t planned on checking out anytime soon. He went on tour soon afterwards, and any of the hype about the album was lost in the tabloids under news of his impending divorce from Heather. (Meanwhile, a souvenir of his previous tour snuck out in the form of Twin Freaks, a double vinyl collection of mashup remixes of solo tracks in collaboration with DJ Freelance Hellraiser that were played before each show. It wasn’t easy to find in the pre-streaming era, and it’s a little too dancey, but it’s fun to pick out some of the samples, much like a certain Beatles project that came out the following year.)

Paul McCartney Chaos And Creation In The Backyard (2005)—4½