Category Archives: Video

The Muffs: Blonder and Blonder

Muffs_BlonderAndBlonder1995 sophomore summit, reissued with bonus tracks!

Two years after their self-titled 1993 debut, the Muffs stripped down to a trio with the departure of Melanie Vammen (less than a week before recording) and the arrival of new drummer Roy McDonald. The result is tighter, punchier and even more ferocious than the first outing, with Kim Shattuck’s songwriting sharpened and her vocals often escalating into howls. The album is a perfect example of pop-punk, marrying the catchy melodies of the former with the unrestrained energy of the latter. Shattuck’s rhythm guitar playing is tough, but her leads have the melodic winsomeness of Gary Lewis & The Playboys records. Even the suicide song, “End It All,” is hummable.

Shattuck notes in the liners that “On and On” was influenced by Freddie & The Dreamers, and indeed the opening riff is lifted from “I’m Telling You Now.” She also notes that “Laying on a Bed of Roses” borrows from the Creation’s “Biff Bang Pow,” and with the transvestite of “Oh, Nina” echoing the Kinks’ “Lola,” the British Invasion connection is strong. Her lyrics can be self-pitying (“Sad Tomorrow”) and bratty (“Won’t Come Out to Play”), but she’s nobody’s fool, easily kicking a cheater to the curb in “What You’ve Done.” The album closes with an unusual segue between the freakout “I’m Confused” and the spiffed-up acoustic demo “Just a Game,” ending in a couplet that encapsulates the yin and yang of punk-pop.

Omnivore’s 2016 reissue adds the UK B-sides “Become Undone” and “Goodnight Now,” and demos of “Red Eyed Troll,” “Won’t Come Out to Play” (with its Buddy Holly roots intact) and “Pennywhore” (which turned up on Happy Birthday to Me). Also featured are demos of “Born Today” and “Look at Me,” neither of which seem to have made it to final form. Unlike the guitar-and-voice demos on the debut album’s reissue, these tracks have basic bass and drums that indicate what they’d sound like as band songs. There’s a taste of Shattuck’s demo of “Become Undone” at the end of track twenty-one, and a hidden backwards CD bonus track at #22, but the demo of “I’m Confused” that Shattuck lauds in the liners is MIA.

The reissue’s 20-page booklet includes numerous photos, liner notes by Ronnie Barrett and Roy McDonald, the latter detailing his second chance at joining the band, and song notes by Shattuck. This is a good upgrade for fans who already have the original album, and the place to start for those who haven’t yet dived into the Muffs. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

The Muff’s Facebook Page

J.D. Souther: Home by Dawn

JDSouther_HomeByDawn2Souther’s sole 1980s album reissued with four bonus tracks

After breaking in as part of the Los Angeles scene of the 1970s, Souther retreated from the record racks, releasing only a pair of singles and this lone 1984 album between 1979 and 2008. These mid-80s sessions were helmed by Nashville songwriter and producer David Malloy, with a mid-80s studio sound that would soon establish itself on the country charts – though not for Souther, whose album only lightly brushed the bottom rung of Billboard’s Top 200. It’s not for want of good original material, touching vocals (including an appearance by Linda Ronstadt on “Say You Will”) and a timely popped-collar video. Apparently Warner Brothers didn’t know how to market the album, despite the title track having some resonance with the then-current hit “Footloose.”

That said, the album’s aged reasonably well, with songs and performances that outweigh the period sound. Souther had been listening to a lot of rockabilly prior to making this album, and you can hear the 50s influences beneath the layers of production and digital studio effects. Among the bonus tracks added to Omnivore’s 2016 reissue is a demo of “I’ll Take Care of You” whose vocal is more restrained, yet more impassioned than the album take. Also included is Souther’s duet with Linda Ronstadt on the Urban Cowboy soundtrack’s “Hearts Against the Wind,” and the unreleased session tracks “Little Girl Blue” and “Girls All Over the World.” The bonuses make for a nice upgrade, and sweeten an often overlooked Souther album. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

J.D. Souther’s Home Page

Bruce Robison & Kelly Willis: Today I Started Loving You Again

If you’re going to pay tribute to a fellow musician, there’s no better way to say it than with music.

Bruce Robison & Kelly Willis – Vocals
Warren Hood – Fiddle
Scott Davis – Banjo
David Grissom – Guitar
Kelley Mickwee – Background Vocals
Geoff Queen – Steel Guitar
Dom Fischer (Wood & Wire) – Bass
Trevor Nealon (The Band of Heathens) – Keys

Jim Waller and the Deltas: Surfin’ Wild

JimWallerAndTheDeltas_SurfinWildHot 1963 R&B-styled surf and go-go

As a product of Fresno State College in California’s Central Valley, one might assume that “Deltas” referred to the nearby Sacramento-San Joaquin delta. And while there is a tinge of surf in some of the compositions, the album’s sax-and-organ foundation has more in common with inland R&B frat-rock that coastal guitar-based surf-rock. Guitarist Terry Christofsen added a bit of twang, but without the reverb common to the surf scene, and Ray Carlson’s fat sax tone suggests King Curtis and Buddy Savitt. Everything has a wild, road house air, from their instrumental cover of the Beach Boys’ “Surfin’” to Nat Adderly and Oscar Brown’s jazz standard “Work Song.” Waller’s many originals, including the raging title track riff on “You Can’t Sit Down,” surely tore the house down and left sweaty dancers in search of refreshment. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Bon Scott: Early Years 1967-1972

BonScott_EarlyYears19861972Bon Scott’s pre-AC/DC pop, rock and soul sides

Bon Scott was so compelling as the howling front-man of AC/DC that it’s nearly impossible to imagine the more tender pop vocals of his earlier years. Compiled here are twenty-two tracks that Scott recorded with his earlier groups, The Valentines and Fraternity, in the late ’60s and early ’70s. Highlights include an Everlys-ish take on Phil Spector’s “To Know Him is to Love Him,” a soulful version of Arthur Alexander’s “Every Day I Have to Cry,” covers of the Small Faces, Soft Machine and Steppenwolf, and songs from the Easybeats’ Vanda & Young.

Hints of Scott’s distinctive tone can be heard, but the material, vocals and arrangements are drawn from the pop, rock and soul music of their times, rather than the hard-rock of AC/DC. By the time the Scott joined Fraternity in 1970, his more familiar bluesy phrasings began to emerge, but not yet with the full-blown leer he’d bring to AC/DC. Diehard fans will enjoy hearing Scott’s evolution towards his famous style, as will those interested in late ’60s pop and early ’70s blues-rock. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Sarah Vaughan: Live at Rosy’s

SarahVaughan_LiveAtRosysA vocal legend live in New Orleans in 1978

By 1978, Sarah Vaughan was standing at the confluence of nearly a decade of renewal. Her rebirth began with a shift to the West Coast in 1970, and included new recording contracts, first with Mainstream and later with Pablo, the 1972 introduction of “Send in the Clowns” to her repertoire, orchestral performances of the Gershwin catalog that netted her both an Emmy and a Grammy, and a 1978 documentary, Listen to the Sun. That same year, NPR’s Jazz Alive! caught Vaughan in this New Orleans showcase with her stellar rhythm trio of pianist Carl Schroeder, drummer Jimmy Cobb and bassist Walter Booker.

At 54, Vaughan was at a peak of artistic vision, vocal quality and technical control, and is nearly telepathic is communicating with her well-seasoned band. Her extraordinary vocal range was completely intact, and age had only added new shadings to a voice that was born rich with character. The set list was stocked primarily with the standards that had long been her metier, but her improvisational skills made every rendition fresh and seem extemporaneous. The original multitrack masters of her show at Rosy’s Jazz Club, including previously unbroadcast performances, remained in the collection of the show’s original procuer, Tim Owens, until this first-ever commercial release.

Vaughan is heard here to be uncommonly at ease on stage, joking with the audience and even riffing on Ella Fitzgerald’s “A-Tisket A-Tasket” in response to a wayward request. But when she sings, she’s all business, whether revving up the ballad “I’ll Remember April” into a scat-singing showcase, or stretching out with the band on the side one closer, “Sarah’s Blues.” The dazzling energy of her fast numbers is often paired with ballads whose tempos provide opportunity for exquisitely manicured notes. The control she exerts over pitch and tone is incredible as she annotates the smooth, beautiful core of her voice with vibrato.

There’s never any doubt who’s starring on stage (despite Vaughan’s habit of jokingly introducing herself as Carmen McCrae), but she was generous with her band, offering them spotlights and weaving their musical ideas into her vocals. The trio setting provides a flexible and surprisingly rich setting for Vaughan, allowing her to improvise and have the band follow, instead of weaving herself into a larger ensemble’s charted arrangement. Her voice provides both a lead a a fourth instrument, and pairs beautifully with Booker’s bass for a duet of “East of the Sun (and West of the Moon).”

The set list reaches back to Vaughan’s earliest days for Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne’s “Time After Time,” stretching into high notes that soar with operatic splendor. Disc one peaks with Sondheim’s “Send in the Clowns,” stripped of Paul Griffin’s 1974 pop arrangement, and expanded into a tour de force ballad. The song would eventually cap Vaughan’s live sets, but by 1978 it was already a deeply emotional moment for both the singer and her audience. The only thing missing from this recording is the ovation that must have followed. Disc one closes with the instrument jam “Sarah’s Blues,” showing off how high this band could fly.

Disc two includes two pieces from Vaughan’s Gershwin songbook, the signature “The Man I Love” and a take on “Fascinating Rhythm” that somehow manages to break into a minuet. A pair of Rodgers & Hart songs showcase two very different sides of the group: “I Could Write a Book” swings as the band vamps behind Vaughan’s improvised lyrics, while “My Funny Valentine” searches for new layers and shadings in a familiar melody. Continual renewal was key to Vaughan’s stage greatness, and it made her chestnuts tower ever higher, year after year.

The one then-new piece in the set was “If You Went Away,” from Vaughan’s album I Love Brazil!, and while it’s a nice addition, it’s almost as if Vaughan needed to sing it for a decade or two before she’d really start to plumb its depths. Vaughan picked material that stood up to reappraisal and reinterpretation, and it’s fascinating to hear how her own approach to songs changed over decades of exploration. But unlike the Groundhog Day chase of a single perfect day, Vaughan’s perfection was ephemeral and of-the-moment, and captured in uniquely colored performances like this.

The trio disbanded the following year, amid Vaughan’s marriage to Waymond Reed, and Reed’s promotion to bandleader. Vaughan continued to perform and record through the 1980s, but this late-70s date stands at an especially strong point in her career. Resonance’s two disc set is housed in a three-panel digipack, with a 36-page booklet that includes essays from music journalists Will Friedwald and James Gavin, remembrances from Carl Schroeder and club owner Rosalie Wilson, and interviews with Jimmy Cobb and Vaughan’s labelmate Helen Merrill. It’s a rich package, but it’s a swinging trio, their finely selected repertoire and the Divine One that really make this set sing. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Resonance Records’ Home Page

Paul Burch: Meridian Rising

PaulBurch_MeridianRisingInspired fictionalized autobiography of Jimmie Rodgers

Paul Burch’s semi-fictional autobiography of Jimmie Rodgers isn’t nostalgic, it’s of a piece with the era it essays. His song cycle captures Rodgers’ times in a long form album that is, in today’s per-track streaming world, its own throwback. Burch knits together the sites, sounds, people and places that greeted Rodgers as he rode the rails and traversed the highways that led to tent shows, recording studios and international fame. The story follows Rodgers from his boyhood home of Meridian, Mississippi to his untimely death in New York City, creating an autobiography that Burch characterizes as “honest, but not necessarily true.”

The songs weave a loose narrative arc, but the album is best experienced as an immersive kaleidoscope of sounds and images. The stories take the listener traveling with Rodgers as he gains experience and channels it into creating folk, country, ragtime, blues and early jazz. The album’s guitar, bass, fiddle and drums, are augmented by clarinet, saxophone, trombone, tuba, bouzouki and Hawaiian steel guitar, fleshing out the wide world of music with which Rodgers’ communed. The arrangements swell and narrow in instrumentation, further echoing the range of combos with which Rodgers himself recording.

The nostalgic memories of Meridian that open the album quickly disappear in the rearview mirror as Rodgers hits the road in his V16 Cadillac. Burch maps Rodgers’ path through travelling shows, backstage surprises, depression-era social politics, gambling misfortune and a child’s untimely death. “To Paris (With Regrets)” imagines Rodgers longing to visit the City of Light, while the latter third of the album finds Rodgers’ health and commercial fortunes spiraling to their end. The instrumental transition “Sign of Distress” signals the beginning of the end, but there’s one more day of life as Rodgers visits Coney Island in “Fast Fuse Mama,” and life after death in the apologetic letter home, “Sorry I Can’t Stay.”

The story concludes with “Back to the Honky Tonks,” echoing Rodgers farewell in his last recording for Victor, and the album closes with the recessional “Oh, Didn’t He Ramble.” It’s a bittersweet end to Rodgers’ short, blazing trail of success and Burch’s deftly imagined autobiography. In telling this story, Burch has surrounded himself with top-notch instrumentalists, including Jen Gunderman, Fats Kaplin, Tim O’Brien and Garry Tallent, and guest vocalists Billy Bragg and Jon Langford. This is a terrific, original project whose nuanced execution lives up to its grandly inspired conception. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Paul Burch’s Home Page

Roy Orbison: One of the Lonely Ones

RoyOrbison_OneOfTheLonelyOnesMysteriously unreleased 1969 album has several treasures

With an artist of Roy Orbison’s stature, it’s hard to imagine how a fully finished album could simply slip through the cracks of a major label’s release machinery. But such is the case for this 1969 set, which sat in the vaults unheard by the public for nearly fifty years. Released in conjunction with an exhaustive 13-disc box set of Orbison’s MGM albums and singles, one might get the impression that his output was simply too much for the market to handle, but a closer look at this period suggests MGM was losing faith in Orbison’s commercial potential. At the time this album was shelved, 1967’s Cry Softly for the Lonely One had failed to chart, its title single had failed to crack the Top 40, and 1968 found Orbison retreating from the road while he recovered from the death of his two oldest sons.

By early 1969 Orbison was back in the studio, recording the material that would become this unissued album. He paused the sessions for a Spring tour, and reconvened in Summer to finish an album that should have been released in November. And then… nothing. MGM sat on the album, and waited until the next year to release the covers set, Hank Williams the Roy Orbison Way. MGM whiffed again the same year by failing to release The Big O in the US, adding to the picture of a label that no longer believed in its artist. But as both the box set and this newly released album confirm, Orbison’s MGM catalog is filled with excellent, if not always hit single material. In light of the quality, Orbison’s contention that his releases weren’t promoted properly (or, in several cases, actually released) weighs heavily.

One of the Lonely Ones combines catchy original material (co-written with Bill Dees), with covers of Rodgers and Hammerstein, Mickey Newbury and Don Gibson. Like many of Orbison’s MGM albums, there are songs that might have been hits, just not in the year they were released. The wounded falsetto of “Laurie” would have done well in 1963-4, but was out of time for 1969. The personal context in which Orbison sang the title track elevates its drama, and with Elvis having charted “If I Can Dream,” one is left to wonder how this would have fared as a single. Same for “Give Up,” which could have found room on the country chart. This is among the better albums Orbison’s recorded for MGM, and a welcome addition to his legacy. [©2016 Hyperbolium]

Roy Orbison’s Home Page

Alan Price: Savaloy Dip

AlanPrice_SavaloyDipLost 1974 solo album from the Animals’ Alan Price

Though Eric Burdon’s voice crowned the Animals’ sound, founding keyboardist Alan Price’s contributions were equally seminal. He brought the group a deep feel for R&B, blues and jazz, organ sounds that provided some of the band’s most memorable hooks, and songwriting chops that paired with Burdon’s. Though his run with the Animals ended in 1965, his solo career took off quickly, with singles and solo albums charting in the UK into the 1970s. This 1974 album came between his critically acclaimed soundtrack for O Lucky Man! and the socially astute Between Today and Yesterday. Incredibly, though the album was fully finished, artistically successful and had obvious commercially potential, it was released only briefly on 8-track tape and then recalled.

No one associated with the album recalls exactly why it was shelved, nor can anyone explain why it’s taken more than forty years to escape the vault. Price is in perfect form throughout, weaving together R&B, blues, soul, jazz, boogie, pop, rock and music hall sounds. It’s not unlike the post-British Invasion reach of Ray Davies and the Kinks, but eschews Davies’ concept album excess. The opening “Smells Like Lemon, Tastes Like Wine” borrows easily from Eric Burdon’s “Spill the Wine” and tinges the song with the rye attitude of Jerry Reed. Price’s extended piano solo on “You Won’t Get Me” is superb, and his organ keys the trad-jazz cross-dressing tale “Willie the Queen,” a song whose momentary Leon Redbone impression is apt.

Price’s songs are imaginative, delving into autobiography, nostalgia, social commentary and historical portraiture, and his voice, which was always worthy of the spotlight, is particularly flexible and compelling here. He sings soulfully, struts to the New Orleans ramble of the title track, and scats as an overdubbed chorus for the homespun story of small pleasures, “Country Life.” His fondness for Randy Newman comes through on the original “And So Goodbye,” and the album’s one cover, “Over and Over Again” is given a broad, circus-styled arrangement. From opening song to closing, this is a fine album, and one of the best in Price’s catalog. That it’s only finding proper release 42 years after the fact is both a shame and a delight. [©2016 Hyperbolium]