Thursday, February 22, 2024

David and Neil's Excellent Adventures




                                                                                                                
"Live Music is Better" Bumper Stickers Should Be Issued!
    Neil Young, "Union Man"                                                                                                                
They might be better off I think the way it seems to me, making up their own shows, which might be better than TV.                                                                
    David Byrne, "Found a Job"                                                                                                    

It takes a lot for me to buy a live album. They're usually a waste. If they do familiar songs faithfully, who needs it? If they do them poorly who needs it? New songs are a plus but it's only rare instances when an entire album is made up of new songs (Running on Empty, Time Fades Away).

If you're lucky you'll run across a well-made live album by a band you're not into yet, so even though there exist studio versions of many of the songs, you haven't heard them, so it's like getting a brand new album that happens to be live. A defacto Time Fades Empty, which is what happened to me when I got the Fleetwood Mac record last year. (and Europe 72, Live Dead, Allmans at Fillmore, etc.)

But there are also those sloppy-as-shit live albums like The Song Remains the Same. And, no, I don't own it but the parts I heard sucked and I'm not gonna sit thru a twenty-six-minute "Dazed and Confused" unless Jake Holmes gets a royalty, and even then.... (Fully expecting Stupid-LZ-Fan-Hate-Mail now.)

And even worse are the ones with perfect renditions of studio cuts like The Eagles Live. They even do a perfect rendition of someone else's cover version of a song! Pathetic. It may be the point of a live show for some people (and to some extent I am one of those people), but a live album?? Never.

The Jaybee Gold Standard For Live Albums (or TJGSFLA, for short(er)) is one with exciting/improved versions of familiar songs - so that it all stands on its own as an album and the document of a live event. It's achieved more often on live jazz albums than rock/pop ones. On one hand, this makes perfect sense, since the jazz ethos is to create something new every time and they have the chops to do it. On the other, you'd think rock n' roll would give one more leeway to be sloppy, but it's surprising what a drag it is to hear your hero sing off-key. The original version of Live at Leeds, with its short tough rockers, and long power-chord-powered classics, works brilliantly. The expanded edition is even better overall, but Roger's better at shouting in this setting than singing the more melodic pop songs that are included.

So it took a long time for me to get these two live albums, which - oddly enough - were recorded around the same time, with Neil at his peak and Talking Heads approaching theirs.


But First, a Major Digression about a Major Digression (That is Still In Progress):

In 1978, I was getting tired of tracking down every last Little Feat album to ever-diminishing returns. I was ripe for something new when Talking Heads caught my attention. They had a cool name, their new  - their second - album had a very cool cover, and their single "Take Me to the River" got played on WNEW FM, the station that defined my horizons (and limitations, it would seem: I had no idea it was a cover of an Al Green song) for the 1970s. Punk seemed like a bridge too far but New Wave was definitely doable. 

I read various music magazines throughout the seventies: classic-rockish Hit Parader, usually, but sometimes the glitter-leaning Circus, which had naughty words (My dad found it and banned it from the house), and occasionally Creem, or even Crawdaddy, but never the Village Voice, which was just asking for trouble, a tabloid being hard to hide between the mattresses. (I can just see my dad picking it up thinking for maybe three seconds it was the Daily News, and then my then-short life flashing before my eyes...)

But I kept hearing about this guy Robert Christgau, who wrote for them who had the gall to NOT like Jackson Browne (actually it was worse than that. He found him boring). This made me very uncomfortable since I was a JB true-believer who nonetheless harbored secret nagging doubts about The Pretender, which is where all my friends jumped on the bandwagon, a little late alas. 

Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I bought a copy of The Voice and found a rave review for Talking Heads More Songs About Buildings and Food, by Christgau. His capsule review was - as I would learn - typically dense with ideas, but the phrase that stuck with me was "...so much beautiful (and funky) music...". How about that? I thought. Enthusiasm! (I'd come back for the ideas later.)

It was the push I needed, and hearing MSABAF was life-changing (if you consider music a big part of your life). The first listen was daunting. The first and last songs were fantastic, and each subsequent listen would shake loose another gem until I was a complete convert. (Yet, to this day I warn folks about David Byrne's vocals before giving my blessing.)

Like Little Feat, it wasn't their first album that was my first exposure. And that was a good thing, although I do think Talking Heads:77 is damn near as good as MSABAF, like how Little Feat was almost as good as Feets Don't Fail Me Now.

Fear of Music was a bit too much, though. Too much weird, not enough sweet. "Electric Guitar" and "Animals" were particularly annoying.

Remain in Light was a rebirth that I may only now be fully appreciating. 

This year is the 40th Anniversary of Stop Making Sense. Unless I can see it in a theater without a screaming baby, I'm not interested. When it came out, there was a screaming baby in the theater. Or at least I think it was in the theater. Maybe it was in the movie. (Interesting touch.)


Live and Let Live:

And as good as the movie was I had no desire to buy the accompanying live album. Especially since they had already put one out a couple of years before.

This one:








Talking Heads: The Name of this Band is Talking Heads Expanded (2004)

The earliest TH music, when they were a threesome, captured on video circa 1975 or so, is spare, tuneful, and a bit eerie. Imagine seeing David Byrne for the first time. Certainly interesting but maybe not built to last.

This set picks things up in 1977, after multi-instrumentalist Jerry Harrison (formerly with The Modern Lovers), has joined. His contributions both on guitar and keyboards add a crucial breadth to their sound. This is also the year their first album was released.

The original version of this record was 2 LPs and had 17 tracks. This expanded 2-CD edition has 33! It still covers the same 1977-81 time frame and includes about 75% of their catalog at that point. And the ommissions make sense.

With my vinyl versions of those albums gathering dust in the basement, and their old songs popping up in cover versions all over the place, I was, yes, nostalgic for what originally mesmerized me. So I caved and got this record. It is wonderful.

First, the band - especially the original foursome is tight, and Tina's bass is tuneful as hell. The later 10-piece incarnation is a little sloppier, and I'll admit SMS may have superior versions of the Remain in Light songs.

In those old videos, David Byrne/his character was tentative. But here, he leans into the weirdness and is a monster. (In a good way.)

The songs from Fear of Music (The Pretender of their albums) are an improvement. The music is, well, funkier and David Byrne sings his balls off. And quite a trick for someone who sounded like he had already done that.

So this is a far more comprehensive set than the single CD Stop Making Sense soundtrack. The only thing SMS has that TNOTBITH doesn't is a few songs from Speaking in Tongues. 

A-

"Love ---> Building On Fire"










Neil Young: Live Rust (1979)

This one is less successful than TNOTBITH because of the issues I cited above. Neil's singing is not always on the mark, which matters less as you get to the rock and roll part, but it's still an annoyance. 

Plus what I'd call "unnecessary" songs, like "Comes a Time" and "Lotta Love" which were just fine on the great Comes a Time, and the live versions of songs that were live to begin with just a few months prior on Rust Never Sleeps: "My My Hey Hey" (and vice versa), "Sedan Delivery", "Powderfinger".

I'm glad I have a live version of "Tonight's the Night", "I Am A Child" and "Sugar Mountain", but to be honest, none are superior to their prior versions.

Another issue is that a lot of these songs are staples of Classic Rock Radio so many are overplayed as it is. So it's not surprising that on my first play, I was meh. 

But the 2nd listen, when I was in the mood for Neil, (and Mrs Jaybee was in the mood for a murder show) I put on my headphones and settled in. Pretty soon Mrs. Jaybee is telling me to stop stomping my foot. It was getting in the way of the murders I think. Go Figure.

Which all goes to show how f*ckin' great these songs are. 

But I'm playing Talking Heads more.

B+

"Tonight's the Night"


Live and Let Die:

Christgau was right about something else, too: Running On Empty is better than The Pretender.

Thursday, January 25, 2024

The 13th Annual Jaybee-bies: 23 and Me

Alex G, Not Jesus C
Alex G, Not Jesus C

Executive Summary:

Music: Pop good.  Jazz and Blues great.

Music/Personal: Still striving for competence on guitar. 

Personal: I'm a grandfather now, and getting close to retirement.

Politics: Too many wars, dictators, climate deniers, and general assholery.


Abstract:

Pop in a holding pattern.

Jazz strikes back. 

The Blues never went away.

Oldies make a comeback. 

Fascists making a comeback, too, and way too many people are okay with it.

(Note: Shouldn't abstracts be longer than executive summaries??)


Humans:

Best:

The same group as last year but with one addition:

  • An ex-President - Jimmy Carter

Worst:

And the bar just keeps getting lower:

  • Jim Jordan
  • Tucker Carlson/Jesse Watters/Marc Levin/Laura Ingraham (what's plural for despicable?)
  • Elise Stefanik
  • An ex-President. You Know Who.
  • The Usual Suspects


Best Books:


Best Movies:    

  • Poor Things
  • Oppenheimer

I'm sure there were other good ones, but I don't get out much.


Best TV:

  • Ted Lasso
  • The White Lotus
  • The Bear
  • Baby J
  • Slow Horses
  • Reservation Dogs
  • Catastrophe

Suddenly I'm a couch potato.


Best Concerts:

None. I'm still waiting for one that's worth time/trouble/$.


Music Awards:

Most Work (But Worth it): 

Most Work (And Possibly Not Worth It): 

Educationally worth it, musically, not so much: all that time spent on Lou Reed, and specifically his first five solo records. Granted, it was wonderful to re-listen to the VU albums, and the good LR solo-ish records. But I was hearing those first five from scratch. And none of them cracked my top ten. Some way to spend the summer, huh?

Most Surprising (and Not Necessarily in a Good Way): 

But this year it is in a good way! (Lou Reed doesn't count, because I didn't have high hopes to begin with. Thank god for the Steely Dan book. I finally got to it after Christmas. I should have read it sooner. It reminded me of how they produced way more great music in the 1970s than Reed managed. They weren’t exactly summer breezes either but at least they had something to show for it.

Most Disappointing: 

The Dismemberment Plan: Emergency & I

Best Nostalgia:

Talking Heads: The Name of this Band Is Talking Heads - They really were a great band with great songs, just like I thought.

Best Artist: 

Miles Davis, due to sheer volume. 

I got ten (eight new) albums by him, and aside from Bag's Groove and Aghartha, I haven't gotten to the bottom of any of them yet.

The eight new ones came from two "Four Classic Album" collections. Here they are:

  • Cookin'
  • Steamin'
  • Workin'
  • Relaxin'
  • Miles Ahead
  • Sketches of Spain
  • Porgy and Bess
  • Elevator to the Gallows

I will get to this before I die.

Best Albums of My Year:

At first, I felt like I had to split genres this year because it seemed ridiculous to put Alex G ahead of Roots of Jazz Funk. But because I lean pop-centric, I'm enjoying Alex more right now. In a couple of years, though, who knows if that'll still be true? 

But goddamn it, my pop-democratic brain decided to mix them back up. The only true genre is Good, and that's subjective anyway.

  1. Alex G: God Save the Animals
  2. The Beths: Expert in a Dying Field
  3. Various Artists: Roots of Jazz Funk
  4. Galaxie 500: On Fire
  5. Duke Ellington Orchestra: At Newport
  6. Talk Talk: Spirit of Eden
  7. The Smile: A Light for Attracting Attention
  8. Miles Davis: Bag's Groove
  9. Fleetwood Mac: Live at the Boston Tea Party, Vol. 1.
  10. Thelonious Monk: Genius of Modern Music, Vol. 2

Honorable Mentions/Also-Rans/Tieds for Tenth: John Coltrane: Africa Brass, Forlorne: Daydream HangoverSun Ra: Lanquidity, Alvvays: Blue Rev

Oh, and Mrs. Jaybee's Favorites:

What can I say? She's way better at staying current than I am.

Best Compilations:

  1. Ella Fitzgerald
  2. Coasters
  3. Billie Holiday

Album I listened to the most but had the least to Say About (Due to Density – Mine, not the music's.)

Erik Satie: The Music of Satie


Some of the best songs - including some great jazz - I heard this year can be found here.


Conclusions:

A new granddaughter has pushed my musical concerns back to somewhat normal proportions. A positive development I think.

Pop was good but not great, a crucial difference. It does make me wonder if I'm all Popped out. Maybe I'm at that point where I get off the fence and stick to finding great older records and give up on current stuff. I've felt this way before and what typically happens is that someone puts out a pop album that completely dominates my imagination. I hope it happens. I'd like to avoid geezerdom if possible.

Jazz and blues filled the gap. The former via new records and the latter by dipping into ones I already had, more or less. (Sorry that BB and Sonny Boy count as 2022 records I just hadn't gotten to yet.)

Still nice to still have a democracy. But I'm worried.

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Meh-ry Christmas


Okay, so the title is opportunistic and misleading since the actual meh-ness occurred in the fall. And it's possible I've used it before but it's our duty to recycle, so...

I've been listening to so much great jazz this year it muscled out pop music, which has been merely good. And just as the perfect is the enemy of the good, the good can also the enemy of the bad, which is at least good for a laugh.

But no one's laughing now.









Primal Scream: Screamadelica (1991)

This UK psychedelic/dance/dub and sometimes rock record starts off well enough but drags from there on, so nothing here really sticks to your ribs.

Loud and proud like Spiritualized, with (slightly) shorter (but still too long) songs. I want to say they're more focused, but when they repeat the title phrase of "Come Together" (Yeah, they're not great at coming up with original titles) for eight minutes, I realize there's such a thing as being too focused. 

Excellent production by Jimmy Miller of Stones fame, and great backup singing, but I only put it on out of curiosity.

B+

"Movin' On Up" (see what I mean?)















Another UK artist. And like Primal Scream, it starts off great and then drifts a bit.

She's a little bit Joni, a little bit Judee Sill, a little bit Weather Station. I’m embarrassed to admit it but I prefer the recent girly (and thus potentially sarcastic) voices to the serious ones, which can be mocked.

I do not not like this record - I'm not suffering when it's on (that William Faulkner quote may be applicable) but it's not one I get excited about. Expert singing and songwriting. Down-to-earth folkish music. And I want to listen to the lyrics. Perhaps a little more change of pace and dynamics would have made it better? 

Given the choice, though, I'll put it on before I put on Primal Scream.

B+

"Alexandra"









Tame Impala: Currents (2015)

This time out Kevin Parker's melodies ride a wash of dance beats and synths.  I miss the sloppy psychedelia of Lonerism, though. I guess I would prefer to hang out with a stoner for an hour than a car salesman.

Perfectly listenable, though.

B+

"The Moment"









Wednesday: Rat Saw God (2023)

This record is so f*cking intense, it can be too hard to take. There's an eight-minute cut where the female singer sounds like she's being murdered, for instance. (I am not exagerrating.)

 After that, things calm down a bit and the melodies and guitars really ring out. Then I hear a pedal steel guitar and I realize they're playing country rock and roll, like early seventies Neil Young.

Sort of the opposite of Laura Marling.

When they're good they're fantastic, which may entice me to give the murder songs another try. 

B+

"Chosen to Deserve"









Genesis: Selling England By the Pound (1973)

One of the better prog-rock albums I've heard. The last time I tried PR was King Crimson, which was pretty good but oh so serious. Luckily Peter Gabriel is more modest than pretentious and is thus easier to take than Robert Fripp.

Here, they make sure there are melodies to accompany the keyboard histrionics. (As much piano as organ thank god.) Some actual guitar, too!  

Of course, I have no idea what the story is about. Figuring that out might ruin the fun.

B+

"I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)"


Galaxie 500: On Fire (1989)

Kinda slow, but if you're tired it comes as a relief. Three then-young people are playing simple, familiar chord progressions and melodies (because that's all they know?) and slow them down so you get their full majesty. 

But just to make it strange, the band - which does have a female member - uses one of the guys to sing the higher parts. It's like listening to "Cortez the Killer" with Neil singing it in his "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" voice.

The guitar solos are pretty rudimentary but get the job done. And on their cover of New Order's "Ceremony", they damn near improve it.

A-

"Tell Me"


Coasters: 50 Coastin' Classics (1992)

I used to hate '50s music. I was born in 1957, so, to me, the Beatles were the real Big Bang, not Elvis, and all good music started in 1963, etc.

And I was at the height of my anti-anti-rock snobbery - where I equated seriousness with quality - when people started listening to oldies stations. I was outraged! There was nothing wrong with current music! As Carly Simon said, these are the good old days! You don't need to feel nostalgic for another time. 

Plus, '50s music was silly. The sound quality sucked, guitars were not prominent, and guys sang like girls.

Okay this seems a bit overboard, but then again 50s music made me feel a bit over-bored (see what I did there?)?(??)

I've come around a bit since then. Reluctantly exploring Chuck Berry, Elvis, Buddy Holly, and the Everly Brothers. The turning point came with History of New Orleans R&B, Vol. 1, which is such a terrific record I began to see the whole era in a different light.

So from that point, I was willing to explore other lesser-known (to me) artists of the era. I'm up to C.

From the get-go, the songs are tuneful and funny - and silly!!! - the band is committed and the singing is right on the mark every time. Plus Leiber and Stoller wrote almost all of these songs and produced most of them, too.

Any record that packs in "Riot in Cell Block", "Smokey Joe's Cafe", "Youngblood", "Yakety Yak", "Along Came Jones" and "Poison Ivy" (I could go on...) all in one place is really special.

A delight.

A

Friday, November 24, 2023

Some of That Jazz


Ah, Jazz. You only take up 5% of my record collection, but lately, you've been taking up half of my listening. 

Rock 'n roll got a fifteen-year head start on you in my house. And you could never make up that ground as long as pop would remain my default setting. I'd only visit the Jazz section of the record store after having thoroughly combed the Pop bins. 

But you were never an afterthought. You were always there, just over the horizon, beckoning, reminding me that if I truly was the music lover I imagined myself to be, I'd need to broaden my horizons. 

I was one of those very serious teenagers. At least as annoying as the Zeppelin-loving potheads. I had to prove to my parents - but mostly myself - that "rock music" was as good as, or better than, any other kind of music, So I pulled away from anything simplistic or hedonistic, preferring the Allman Brothers and the Dead, probably because I could point to their virtuosity as proof of their superiority. 

I also dabbled in prog rock. It's harder to play so it must be "better" right?

Luckily, for me, rock had a way of flipping the script. As I got older that very serious-sounding prog rock began to come off as a bit pompous and silly, whereas unpretentious records like "Louie Louie"  became a source of joy. 

All it really took was a sense of humor. Once I got one of those I embraced the joy wherever I could find it while still shunning the downright stupid. 

Once I found my way, it opened up whole new vistas and old ones I had previously dismissed. And as long as I kept exploring things would never have time to get stale. And while rock is the greatest thing, it's not the only thing. Eventually, I'd make my way outside of rock altogether. 

The most obvious places to go were Classical and Jazz, the latter being more welcoming because it had - scoff if you will - some similarities to rock music. Melodies, rhythm, passion, and blues, to name a few. So there was a way in.

But Jazz, you could still be work. Your songs came from the pre-Beatles era, and your chords were rarely just major or minor, thus your solos were for a time unfathomable. Also, your sound quality really didn't get good until the 1950s, which is why I latched onto small combos (like the Beatles, Jaybee?) rather than big bands. It wasn't simple, but I persisted.  

Okay, I'll stop talking to Jazz at this point. (He/she never does answer.)

Perhaps I needed to convey that my expertise in Jazz is very limited (Not that I can be trusted with Pop, where my taste tends to skew weird. What till I tell you about that Galaxie 500 record I just got...) so it takes me a while to get my head around most Jazz records. 

Add to that my propensity to deep dive where I barely have the right to dip my toe, and it can take forever. I have a long, meandering unpublished post on three multi-album collections (Bill Evans, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk) adding up to, oh, 28 f*cking albums. 


But very occasionally I slow down and focus. I'll get less voluminous collections and actually pay attention to them. 


Ella Fitzgerald: Sings the Cole Porter Songbook

A while back, Mrs. Jaybee picked up the Ella Fitzgerald 75th Birthday Celebration to teach her students about scat singing. While it's a perfectly good collection, I was already completely obsessed with the Magnetic Fields' 3-CD 69 Love Songs which we got at the same time. So there goes Pop shoving Jazz out of the way again.

Years passed and I felt no compunction to get anything more from Ella Fitzgerald. I'd gotten her best of, didn't I? 

But whenever I'd peruse various GOAT Jazz Album lists, there she'd be with her Cole Porter songbook. I only knew Porter from what I heard on Red Hot and Blue. No need for more, right? Right?

25 years later...

As much pop as it is jazz, The Cole Porter Songbook is a delight throughout. The clever lyrics and cleverer melodies turn out to be a perfect fit for that incomparable voice, and these thirty-five delightful songs glide by in no time at all. 

A

"Anything Goes"









Duke Ellington: At Newport 1956 Complete

In a case of deja vu all over again, I'd gotten the very fine 3-CD DE Centennial Edition (1927-1973) which should have been enough, right? 

But as with Ella another Duke album kept popping up that for decades I had convinced myself I had no need for. Boy was I wrong.

I opted for the expanded 2 CD version, which includes the entire concert including the between-song patter and the band opening with a perfectly good "Star Spangled Banner". (Hendrix rules, though.) So things aren't as compact as I'd like them to be, but I can live with that.

It's one thing to listen to the original recordings of these songs on Centennial and enjoy them despite the relatively poor sound quality. But to hear his band dig into these songs with such gusto live, well that's another thing entirely.

And yes, "Diminuendo in D" is everything you heard it was.

A


Many years ago, I inadvertently banished Billie Holiday from my day-to-day play choices when she committed an unpardonable sin. Drugs or some other immoral behavior, you ask? Worse, she kept distracting me and Mrs. Jaybee as we engaged in our weekly Sunday Jumble competition. 

In her defense, we were listening to a single LP best-of (which is a ridiculous notion) which threw together all kinds of styles that didn't naturally flow together. So it was very detrimental to our ability to determine that OIAPN was in fact PIANO.

But really, the issue was that Billie forced you to listen, and I wasn't prepared to do that at the time. She was just too damned intense. 

I knew I'd eventually have to replace that single LP with something more cohesive and comprehensive. I did investigate it, checking Consumer Reports and the ever-reliable user ratings on Amazon, and I finally landed on this one.

Two CDs (and a DVD I haven't even bothered viewing yet).  Honestly, at first, I gave it a few listens and left it for a while. (I was in my Blues period.) It was only this past week when I caught a bad cold that I found myself spellbound. I think it was because I didn't have the strength to do anything else, so I just gave myself over to it, and well, wow. An embarrassment of riches, even if some fanatics think it could have been better. It is just fine as it is.

A



















I wish I could say I needed another Miles Davis record. I think I just keep chasing the original high from Kind of Blue and A Tribute to Jack Johnson. Alas, he's always Miles Ahead of me. I'll never catch up, but I keep trying.

Recorded in 1954 but only released in 1957 - a year when he released six(!) albums.

This is a remarkably smooth and often brilliant record. The band includes Sonny Rollins and Thelonious Monk, just not on the same songs. But everyone brought their A-game, and this is a thrill. The only issue is that the title cut(s) is so great, that the remaining excellent ones have to catch up.

I'll wait.

A-





Again? Yeah. I couldn't help it.

Everyone more or less came around to Miles' controversial electric period in the early 1970s. This record is one of several live double albums he released at the time and is considered the best.

And it sure is better and more focused than that overrated "classic" Bitch's Brew. More rhythmic, more intense. More soloing, less dicking around.

A-

"Prelude, Part 1" (Because who but Miles would title a 30-minute cut "Prelude"?} 

At this point, I'll pause because I'm still listening to Miles Davis: Four Classic Albums. 

Narrator: And yet, this was overheard at the Jaybee Thanksgiving dinner table:
"Hey honey, I noticed there's another "Four Classic Albums" by Miles Davis on Amazon. How about that, huh?"

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Blues in Black and White


Thinking Jazz and Classical were my go-to genres when I got tired of pop music, I was shocked to realize how many blues albums I had gotten recently. (FYI, anything less than a decade counts as "recently".)

While I had dipped into the blues via white artists during my youth, I got the impression that I liked it. But then a decade or so later while out driving on a beautiful summer Saturday afternoon, I put on my local Americana station which was playing actual blues at the time, not the white guys with the perfect technique but no singing (or writing) chops doing their serious version of "Ukelele Blues". Was it Robert Johnson playing acoustic? Muddy Waters playing electric with no accompaniment? I forget, but whatever it was, I shook my head, knowing that I just couldn't get into it on such a nice day. I needed to hear nice day-driving music, which is usually some form of pop. Perhaps if I were sitting on a porch in Mississippi...

I was dismayed. Didn't I enjoy Cream, the Allman Brothers, and Mike Bloomfield? (Not so much John Mayall and the Blues Brothers.) I feared I was becoming a racist - or worse - a mere dilettante, vanity being my main motivational force.

Or was I slowly becoming the oblivious middle-aged codger-to-be who thought he was liberal, but who just didn't get what the kids were going on about, either musically or politically? 

But I let it go, for quite a while.

The breaking point came one day when I suddenly realized I was getting all my clothes from Costco. Something had to be done. 

The situation called for immersion. So about 25 years ago, I got the four-CD box set Chess Blues which is an anthology of the many artists who recorded for that label for the two decades following World War II. And it worked! It proved I did like this music, which was largely electric Chicago-style blues.

Encouraged I got a few compilations of Buddy Guy, Bessie Smith, and Elmore James, all good to great. But in 2017 two early sixties Howlin' Wolf albums (not compilations, either) completely bowled me over.

Alas, some squirrels named Jazz, Classical, and a new one - AfroPop - came into my line of vision, and there went five or six years.

I guess it was my unconscious that determined it was time again to dig in again. And who deserved my attention more than BB King? Yeah, Live at the Regal, was fine, but BB deserved more attention than that.

















BB King: King of the Blues (1992)

While I do wish there was a greater focus on the 1950s and 1960s since things start to get a little schlocky after that, this career-spanning box set is as good as it could possibly be. 

Now I could finally hear BB's guitar in all its glory. He rivals Neil Young for minimal guitar technique. But edges him out for pure expressiveness. 

Ditto the singing. Which is the secret ingredient the white bands tend to miss. Oh, and songs, too.

All of those elements together - not just a blazing lead guitar - make the magic happen. 

A

"Tired of Your Jive"









The Essential Sonny Boy Williamson

Sonny Boy's a real piece of work. First, steals the original Sonny Boy Williamson's identityWell, not exactly. But he does steal his stage name. Suddenly there were two SBWs and the audience voted with their feet. SBW 2.0 ruled.

Then he writes a bunch of songs about getting caught doing shady stuff, like “One Way Out” (later covered by the Allmans). In another song, he admonishes a woman he’s been cheating with to not tell her husband or his wife. Then, when someone gets fed up and pushes back a little, he sings he's “scared of that child".

And yet, he’s not short of advice for how other folks can keep their noses clean. So the man's got nerve.

At the beginning of a recording session for "Little Village", his producer had the audacity to inquire what the name of the song was. Sonny Boy - after first lobbing some general abuse at him, eventually suggested he name it after his mama. 

So why do I like it so much? Because he’s fun. He's the shady friend who gets you thrown in jail, but you remember it fondly. Unlike Lou Reed, who couldn't even guarantee a good time. But like Lou Reed, there are casualties, most notably the first SBW.

And unlike Reed, Sonny Boy always had a great band with him. Maybe not technically the best, but who provided the exact right amount of raunch.

And he's one helluva harmonica player. 

One caveat: Mrs. Jaybee says “It all sounds the same”. 

My rebuttal: "And, your point is...?"

A-

"Bring It On Home" (with a middle finger to Led Zeppelin)


RCA Victor Rhythm & Blues Revue

This collection opens with Lil Green singing "Romance in the Dark", where she gets so excited her man has to tell her to keep it down. It ends with the Isley Brothers' "Shout". Thematically, if not musically, correct. 

Along the way run into Billy Eckstine, Earl Hines, Illinois Jacquet, Count Basie, King Curtis, and a young and unrecognizable Little Richard.

The performances are spirited, if not quite on the level of, say, Township Jazz and Jive but very fine nonetheless.

A-

"Romance in the Dark"









Fleetwood Mac: Live at the Boston Tea Party, Vol. 1 (1970)

This is the Peter Green Edition of the Mac. Version 1.0, if you will. Version 2.0 was the Christine McVie/Bob Welch era, and v3.0 was, well, you know. 

Version 2 was about blues guitars. That's plural, by the way. Second guitarist Danny Kirwan was damn near as good as Green. While this does not have that Allmans at Fillmore level of intensity, it's close. The songs are mostly blues covers, which is just fine by me. 

BB King once said of Peter Green, "He has the sweetest tone I ever heard; he was the only one who gave me the cold sweats." And his technique, while not quite virtuosic, was still a perfect match for it. Not technically flawless yet exquisite.

Oh, and Mick Fleetwood on drums and John McVie on bass. How could you go wrong?

The singing is not phenomenal but, in retrospect, you can detect that Green had his own unique type of blues to express. 

It's not all blues here, but it's too good to exclude here. 

Green had begun hanging around with the Grateful Dead around the time of this recording, and by an extraordinary coincidence, he began taking LSD. He also had no interest in fame and wanted to give away any money he made. He must have sensed that the Mac was on the verge of a breakthrough to the big time, so not long after this performance, he left. 

His sad, interesting story is here.

A-

"Jumping at Shadows"


Well, I'm expecting a squirrel or two to drop by sooner or later. So I had to get this off my chest while I had the chance. So I'll be on my way to Costco to pick up some formalwear...

Wait! What's that over there??