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.
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-
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+
Live and Let Die:
Christgau was right about something else, too: Running On Empty is better than The Pretender.
