It’s Complicated

Although Grimes brought me pretty much up to the present, for the most part I’m dwelling in the past.

There is my foray into the 1970s - the Kinks, Roxy Music , Fairport Convention, etc.

Then there have been my retreats into ambient music where the amount of sensory input is limited, which, believe me, has its uses.

And then there’s the classical music I’ve been delving into, which I’ll get into another time.

And now, it’s 1940s blues. Why? No philosophical reason. It’s just because Barnes and Noble told me so, for $4.99.  Totally worth it, too.



Muddy Waters: The Plantation Recordings (1941)

This one fits most of the above criteria of what I need now.  Out of this current time. Limited sonic input.

On the first count, it brings us back to the 1940s. Yet that makes it way newer than the classical music I’ve also been listening to. And yet, much more “primitive”. (I like primitive, btw.)

Doesn’t that make it inferior to classical music? Yeah, bullsh*t. If anything, it’s a response to it. After all, the people creating and listening to classical music had the money and the education that enabled them to create and consume said music. And they got the money, etc by giving the blues to everybody else.

Whatever. Peace and love, etc. Back to Muddy.

On that latter count (limited sonic input, in case I lost you), it couldn’t be more different from Grimes, say.

At the time of this recording, Muddy was about the same age as Grimes was for Art Angels. But he sounds way older. By about a thousand years.

This record is mostly just him and a guitar, which is more than enough, usually. I will admit I slightly prefer his later electric sound. (Not many electric guitars on the plantation, you know.)

Muddy isn’t quite as exciting as Howlin’ Wolf  vocally, and Elmore James plays a meaner guitar. But he's probably the best overall.

And he’s full of seeming contradictions, at least to a clueless dolt like me. He sings about being poor but looks like a million bucks on the cover. (Where can I get a suit like that?) Then he’s singing about god on one song and then sin on the next. And love, too, and it’s sometimes bitter aftermath.  In other words, in a dozen or so "primitive" songs, you get life in all it’s complexity.

Okay, there are several interview tracks sprinkled throughout, but they’re not as annoying as you’d think.

So, not exactly rousing, but very, very down to earth. Literally.

Because of the low volume on this one, I count it as morning music. But it has to be a pretty bad morning.

But that’s okay, if that happens, you just begin to sing:

Woke up this morning…

And you take it from there.

A-

“You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone”

Older Men and Younger Women, or, Sometimes the Present is Actually Bearable

Despite my recent disappointments, some current music does occasionally work for me.



Grimes: Art Angels (2015)

“I’m surprised you like this” is something Mrs. Jaybee says whenever I get something on the poppy side.

And it probably looks a little ridiculous that a man like me - dangerously close to 60 years old - is listening to this very girlish sounding woman with tunes on the beat-y/dance-y - but pretty - side.

I usually do find this sort of thing annoying, but that’s not the case here.

I did get this too soon. This is Spring/Summer music if ever I heard it.  Meanwhile, I got it oh, back in January?  No problem, I now know to put some things away until the time is right.  And with Spring now here, this sounds just lovely. It makes you want to go out and enjoy the global warming.

And although she sounds very young, and is, what she says is a bit more grown up.

What I love about this:

• She finds strong melodies and arrangements to best complement that voice.  
• Although the music is on the dance-oriented side, she usually starts off with an electric guitar, and preserves its tone, texture and rhythm throughout the track. She likes to keep one foot firmly in the rock n’ roll camp.
• All of the above elements are used to their best effect, and work together, so although there’s a lot going on, it never seems overly busy.

And the above is pretty much the definition - for me - of great pop music.

There are flaws, of course. She goes girly a lot, and the songs that are more purely dance-oriented aren't as original as the rest of the record.

But, to answer your question, Sweetheart, yes, I do like it.

I don’t know if I’ll play it loud in the car like that elderly fella on the motorcycle did the other day. I tend to attribute such things to mid-life crises. But it would appear he’s a little more secure in his manhood than I am.

A-

“Artangels”

My 70s Show

Like I’ve been saying, I’m losing my taste for current music (or it’s losing its taste for me).

And, as I mentioned in my last post, our 15 year-old musical selves usually turn out to be our lifetime musical selves. I fact-checked this on my record database (and encourage you to do the same! What?  Oh, never mind!) but didn’t find an exact correlation.

But that’s because I didn’t start really buying records until I had a real job, which was in 1974. Once I did, though, I went apesh*t and got about 200 records over the next four years.  I was clearly making up for lost time.

When you don’t have a lot of records, though, as my 15 year-old self didn’t prior to that year, you relied on your friends.  You had to wait to hear those records at their houses or when they would let you borrow them.  But even when I finally started getting my own records I didn’t always go back and get those other records I associated with my friends.

Those records would occasionally pop up in discount bins, and I would find myself weighing the option getting them - something known and inexpensive - against getting something new and more expensive.  The cheapskate in me usually held out for the new and cheap.

Another thing holding me back was the thought that these records were either played out or that I’d simply not like them as much as I did back then. So there are plenty I never did get.

But last year, in my desperation, I was tempted many times (thanks, amazon.com $5 mp3s!) to revert to the early 70s rock of my formative years. In other words, music I shouldn’t be going to now since “my tastes have changed” somewhat, but that in fact may have burned itself into my brain’s synapses regardless.


And a few made the cut:


Joni Mitchell: Court and Spark (1974)

This was lent to me by Friend-Back-Then Maureen, along with For the Roses, and it was always overshadowed by that record which is easily in my all-time top 25, along with Blue.  This allowed me to burnish my pop snob credentials by dissing this one in comparison.

But “Free Man in Paris” is easily one of the greatest pop record ever made. Melodically, rhythmically, lyrically. And everything else on side one - with the exception of the merely good hit-single “Help Me” is damn near perfect, which makes it one of the greatest pop sides ever.

So it’s natural that side two can’t quite keep up. But now that I’m finally giving it a chance I find it’s quite good, and beats Steely Dan out on the jazzy-LA-sound by at least three years. And she does it better, too. A

"Free Man in Paris"



If I remember correctly, this next one was borrowed for an extended period from Brother Pat’s Friend Kenny:



Traffic: John Barleycorn Must Die (1970)

“Stranger to Himself” - which is far from the best song here - has played in my head on and off for decades. Is it the nice jarring chord progression and rhythm, or the weird intro with the acoustic guitar? I don't know, but it's stuck up there.

Anyway, back then I assumed that this was one of the best albums ever made, but I’m having trouble believing me now.

Why? I mean, who doesn't like Steve Winwood's voice? But man, he can be a sloppy singer. Try a little harder, man! Like on “Gimme Some Lovin”.

And it all sounds a bit thin. Maybe if they got an actual bassist, things might have had a more oomph. That’s the very talented Mr. Winwood spreading himself too thin.

Speaking of which, the live disc that comes with this Deluxe edition is almost a total waste. It really shows the shortcomings of a band that relies on one key person to handle too many critical chores.

And let’s not dwell on the words too much. They just seem to be there because words make the singing make sense.

But I carp. “Empty Pages” shows some needed emotion, if not intelligence. The title song is done to perfection. And “Every Mother’s Son” has a great guitar riff and a rousing finish. The rest is not bad at all.

So it holds up pretty good. No, not in my top 100, but a worthwhile record for sure.  A-

“Every Mother’s Son”



This one was probably lent to me by Childhood Friend Mike.


David Crosby: If I Could Only Remember My Name (1971)

I was bracing myself to hate this one.  After all, he is one of the biggest assholes in rock and roll history. (And isn’t that saying something?)

Critically reviled in its time, but kinda liked by foolish teens like myself , this is actually a lovely record. Not much, lyrics-wise. But Jerry Garcia’s pedal steel adds great atmosphere and his lead some needed edge.  Even Grace Slick gets all strident at the right time.

By the way, Dave’s version of “Laughing” is the best one out there.

It’s all about the vocals and the atmosphere, folks, and the LA mafia pretty much nails it here
.
And we all know that with DC we could do a lot worse. (What, are you f*cking kidding me?)

But better, too. (Now that’s more like it!)

Anyway, here’s the high point on this record:
"Laughing"

B+


So I managed okay with these records.  Oh, I don’t listen to them all that much but I knew that would happen. Still, I’m happy with what I did get.

The big question now is Should I Leave Well Enough Alone?

I’m now considering digging into some albums from that era that I never heard, but that bear the allure of the time (or the stench of datedness, depending on your viewpoint).

Leon Russell, anyone?

Jethro Tull?

Bueller?