60’s Media

Album Review #40: Live at the Apollo by James Brown (1963)

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Live at the Apollo, James Brown

I’m back, everyone! Terribly sorry about the unannounced hiatus. I fully intend on making my posts much more frequent than they have been.

James Brown was known as “the hardest working man in show buisness.” After all, he played a gig almost every single night, (and sometimes even multiple times in a single day,) and the concept of a “break” was pretty much completely alien to him. So for a single 30-minute concert, performed at the Apollo Theater in 1962, to consistently rise above all other sets of the man’s entire career and frequently place on lists of “greatest live albums ever”, it has to be something truly special. Well, worry not, because this album more than lives up to the endless hype. You know you’ve got a hell of an album on your hands when the only complaint you can think of regarding it is that it’s just too short. At just over 32 minutes, it almost always leaves the listener unsatisfied and wanting more. But hey, an album sure can do worse when its only drawback is that there just isn’t enough of it.

Side A

The album starts with a passionate intro from Fats Gonder. He lists off all the songs on the setlist, each one punctuated by a burst of brass that increases in pitch each successive time, creating an awesome sense of buildup and anticipation. After his opening, the band launches into a cool yet crazy-energetic instrumental, with the guitar alternating with the brass section with a great call-and-response style. After a minute of this, the man himself, James Brown, steps up to the microphone and screams out the opening lines to the first song, “I’ll Go Crazy,” with an astonishing raw power only he could pull off. The guitar strums out the opening chords, before the song finally kicks off with hypnotic arpeggios and excellent singing from both Brown and his underrated backup singers. This is probably the single catchiest song on the record, with flawless hooks, melodies, and instrumentals that all work together perfectly to create what is possibly the perfect R&B song. They then seamlessly transition into the next track, “Try Me,” which is much more subdued and calm, but still just as enjoyable as the first. Putting these two tracks right next to each other does a great job of emphasizing Brown’s emotional range: he can sing and scream the loud-and-exciting songs and soulful-and-tender songs with equal effortless proficiency. From this track until the end of the side, there is a brief ten-second bridge between each song performed by the brass section that really serves to maintain the momentum between each song. Because of this, the whole side feels like a sort of epic suite, with even the quiet and calm tracks acquiring a feeling of tension and anticipation. After “Try Me” comes “Think,” a short and rambunctious song with a chaotic rhythm and a jaw-dropping sense of power throughout. Brown’s vocals on this track are barely-coherent and really come off as more of a background to the instruments—unusual for this album, as his singing is usually so demanding of attention that he becomes the centerpiece of any one song—but honestly, in this instance, it really works. His vocals here perfectly complement the unhinged nature of the track. Next comes another slow ballad, “I Don’t Mind,” opening with a very understated, barely audible organ in the background that gives the song a strange, calming-yet-tense vibe that really makes the track stand out among the rest. As always, Brown’s vocals make the song, with an impressive level of sheer intensity delivered in a quiet tone. Even when he brings out the trademark scream, it’s quiet and incredibly controlled. This whole track is, simply put, a masterclass in restraint.

James Brown clickamericana[dot]com

James Brown delivering a riveting vocal performance. Image source: clickamericana.com

Side B

The album’s second half kicks off with the showstopper, the ten-minute soulful blues jam, “Lost Someone.” This is the reason this album is still remembered all these years later, and is frankly worth the price of admission alone. It’s incredible length (which, by the way, is a third of the entire album’s running time) doesn’t hold it down at all: in fact I would argue that it wouldn’t even work with a shorter time frame. It’s an excellent example of repetition in music done right. The band plays, for the most part, the same bassline and trumpet part repeatedly, but with minute variations that keep it engaging, and, of course, James Brown’s once again jaw-dropping vocal performance. His voice really does carry this entire album, and on this track especially he imbues every line with passion. His singing is captivating, emotional, and engaging to no end. The audience simply can’t contain their excitement here, screaming and shouting with him along the way, with James even calling for some screams himself in a brilliant moment of call-and-response. After this ten-minute behemoth, the band transitions into a rapidly-changing medley of several songs, all packed into six minutes of time. Where “Lost Someone” was expansive and took it’s time, this medley moves from melody to melody faster than the listener can even keep track of it. In perfect honesty, I don’t like this track nearly as much as I do the rest of the album. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still great. It’s just that all of the musical ideas aren’t given nearly enough time to develop, and while I recognize that it’s a medley of preexisting songs, I just think it would’ve done better if it had given the song snippets a little more room to breathe. The vocals and band are just as captivating as they are on the rest of the album, but this track still stands out as an “alright” point in an album of incredibles. The album ends on a high note with the classic “Night Train,” with its instantly-recognizable brass part and a truly exhilarating bass and rhythm.

And just like that, the album’s over. Like I said before, the only bad thing I can say about this record is that there just isn’t enough of it. It’s one of the greatest live recordings ever put to record, and if you’ve never listened to this non-stop thrill ride before, you’re doing yourself a huge disservice. Let me know what you thought of the album, I’d love to hear your opinions!

Favorite Tracks: “Lost Someone,” “I’ll Go Crazy,” “I Don’t Mind,” “Think”

9/10 (by the way, starting with this review, I’ve decided to start giving albums numerical ratings out of ten! Let me know what you think about this, I’d really love to know.)

Next Up: Getz/Gilberto by Stan Getz and João Gilberto (1963)

 

Album Review #39: The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady by Charles Mingus (1963)

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The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, Charles Mingus

It’s about time we got around to Charles Mingus. Truly one of the greats of the world of jazz, his bass playing was unparalleled and his composing was mind-blowing. With this album, released 1963, he took the already well-respected genre of jazz and brought it to a level of challenge, aggression and complexity almost unheard-of by his peers and contemporaries. At the time, jazz was a lot of things: it was soft, gentle and soothing, it was loud, exciting and danceable. But until Mingus, it was never angry or even scary. With this masterpiece, Charles Mingus confronted the jazz scene with a mind-boggling opus of constant movement, frantic performances and musical concepts that until that point in music history had only been touched upon by some of classical’s great composers. Put simply, The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady is a complete game-changer for not just jazz, but popular music as a whole, filled with innovations, surprises and a style/structure that ensures it an incredible re-listening potential. (It is important to note, however, that a previous album of his, Mingus Ah Um, is just as highly regarded by critics, but for some baffling reason was sadly not included in this book. There’s a good chance I’ll get around to talking about that one sometime soon, but for now, Black Saint is more than deserving of our full attention.)

Side A

Track-by-track wise, this is a difficult album to review. It isn’t quite split into “tracks” per se, but rather into four continuous movements like some sort of modern-day jazz symphony. The whole record is intended as a single piece, so you can’t really have a “favorite track” here. I’ll at least try to analyse it, however, so let’s begin with the first of four movements, “Solo Dancer.” The opening to this album is just fantastic in every way. It starts off slowly and gradually, punctuated with buzzing notes from a roaring tuba played by Don Butterfield with a brilliant, distinctive timbre. Over the first few minutes the elements pile on and build in speed and intensity, ever-so-patiently stirring up a maddening whirlwind of sound that is both daunting and completely breathtaking to hear. Most of the album is improvised, but every performer on display has clearly mastered their craft to the peak of their abilities, and every solo is exhilarating. The second movement, “Duet Solo Dancers,” starts off much more mellow than the previous track, with a gentle piano intro and easy-going tempo and melody. Then, about two minutes in, it takes a turn for the menacing, with a slow one-two rhythm that stomps up and down, speeding up and building to a massive, disorganized crescendo that wields an energy so great that it leaves listeners speechless. The movement’s last couple minutes return to the main melody of the opening movement, which I actually quite like as it serves to further strengthen the full album as one long piece intended to be experienced as one. The final movement of Side A, “Group Dancers,” opens with another piano solo, but this time much more dark and ominous than the last. When the flutes come in with their swift, light but still slightly sinister melody, they give the impression of pirouetting ballet dancers, and the effect is strangely beautiful and awe-inspiring. Then comes what is honestly one of my absolute favorite parts of this record: Jay Berliner’s flamenco-style acoustic guitar work. With its angry, rapid and hypnotic strumming that reflects Latin Jazz, it’s a definite highlight of the album in my personal opinion. Although it only appears briefly in this movement, don’t you worry, because it’ll make a glorious return on Side B. Speaking of which…

Charles Mingus likesuccess[dot]com

Mingus and his legendary bass. Image source: likesuccess.com

Side B

“Trio and Group Dancers” starts off the record’s second half with a familiar motif from earlier in the record. Let me stress that when he does this, it is not a mark of laziness, but rather it helps to give the album a strong sense of continuity. It makes the album truly feel like one continuous symphony rather than a collection of tracks, and the effect is wonderful. After a few minutes of as-always well performed variations on the theme, it segues into another brilliant guitar solo. Berliner’s playing style simply demands attention, hence why his guitar usually shows up solo on this record: he’s just so good that his presence would distract from everyone else playing. The couple of times he does collaborate with another instrumentalist, it is usually only a duet, either that or everyone else just gets ultra-quiet as if in awe. The rest of the movement is dominated by a lengthy, improvised piano solo, expertly performed by the auteur himself, Charles Mingus. Every piano solo on display in this record is excellent, but this one takes the cake, making expert use of every second it has and refusing to lose the listener’s attention for a second. The fifth movement that follows, “Single Solos and Group Dance,” continues building on the momentum of the previous movement, once again finding unique ways to riff on the recurring motif. The guitar makes a return, this time accompanied by an easy-to-miss marimba. It isn’t as shy this time, participating with the band to great effect. Over the next few minutes the music grows deranged and unhinged, making a ruckus and chaotically beating the time signature into submission. The line between this movement and the final movement, “Group and Solo Dance,” is a little blurred, and I’m not actually quite sure where one ends and the other begins, but in the end, that doesn’t really matter much. The album works much better as a single piece anyways. It closes with one final rendition of the original opening melody from the first movement, serving as a brilliant bookend to an often hectic, crazy, but constantly masterful album.

So I guess you can probably tell what I think of this one. What can I say? I loved it to no end. It’s probably my favorite jazz album on the list so far, and it’s an album I can absolutely see myself revisiting years down the line. It may seem intimidating at first, but it is a consistently exciting, engaging, and enthralling recording that knows what it’s doing and does it damn well. All I can say is that you need to hear it, and it will probably take me a long, long time before I find a better jazz album.

Favorite Tracks: “Movement C: Group Dancers,” “Movement D: Trio and Group Dancers,” “Movement A: Solo Dancer”

Next Up: Live at the Apollo by James Brown (1963)

Album Review #38: Live at the Harlem Square Club by Sam Cooke (1963)

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Live at the Harlem Square Club (v. 1), Sam Cooke

This album is a bit of an interesting one, in that despite it being widely considered a classic 60’s record, it wasn’t actually given an official release until 1985. You can thank the geniuses at RCA Records, who apparently thought the recording was “too rough and gritty” for Sam Cooke’s clean pop image. This would eventually prove to be one of the most baffling record label decisions of all time, as it would become an immediate classic almost as soon as it left the archives 22 years later. The album really is quite astonishing, being without a doubt the greatest showcase of Cooke’s out-of-studio abilities of his entire tragically short career. We may never truly be able to understand record label executive’s thinking, but we can sure understand that they kept from the masses a true classic of live rock and R&B.

Side A

The album kicks off with an incredible intro of roaring, growling saxophone before “Mr. Soul” is introduced onto the stage. He takes a moment getting the crowd riled up before launching into the first song on the setlist: “Feel It.” The music on this record is loose, even a little sloppy, but this style serves the music very well. The energy in his voice is tangible, and the strumming of the guitar and bashing of the drums work together beautifully to create a loud, foot-stomping sound that would make any crowd go crazy. Next up is “Chain Gang,” punctuated by angry grunts and a ridiculously catchy vocal melody. The instrumentals are more of the same, but that’s not really a negative, as they just work so well with pretty much any song Cooke sings. It’s on this track that he first brings audience participation into the mix, with the crowd providing the song’s signature grunts throughout the second half. After that comes a song that’s much more sweet and gentle, the love ballad “Cupid.” I really can’t stress enough just how well Cooke’s voice promotes the music his band plays: be it loud and fast or soft and tender, he pulls it off with utter perfection on pretty much every track. This is even further exemplified by the following track, “It’s All Right / For Sentimental Reasons.” This is probably my favorite of the album’s nine songs. “Is everybody in favor of getting romantic?” Cooke calls to the crowd, with a resounding yes from the crowd. He starts it off with a spoken intro before jumping into his rough-but-powerful vocals, delivering each lyric with emotion and care. “Oh, I like this song!” he interjects between lines, and boy does it show. Probably the best part comes in the track’s second half, where the audience starts shouting out his lines for him. I don’t blame them one bit: his performance is simply so engrossing that, were I there in the crowd that night, I don’t think I’d be able to control my excitement either. The side wraps up with one last fast-and-exciting song, “Twistin’ the Night Away,” and the sheer momentum he’s built up by this point in the set is frankly astounding. The messy but highly enjoyable backing band is in full swing here, accompanying Cooke’s electrifying vocals with pure excellence. He can barely even contain himself onstage, and it’s with this track that I think his sheer talent for live performance is best on display.

Sam Cooke thoughtontracks[dot]com

Cooke in the recording booth, coffee in hand. Image source: thoughtontracks.com

Side B

The record’s second side starts with “Somebody Have Mercy,” yet another passionate track with vocals sung with Gospel levels of emotion. The tense buildup of the second half is great, and its euphoric, explosive climax is simply one of the record’s finest moments. The song then seamlessly transitions into the next, “Bring it on Home to Me,” which takes the previous song’s energy and maintains it incredibly well. Cooke’s vocal melodies are truly one of R&B’s greatest, and this is one of the best places to hear it. The crowd’s still loving it, once again participating in the music with call-and-response shouting and the best sounding singing a large unorganized crowd is capable of pulling off. Up next is “Nothing Can Change This Love.” It’s short compared to the surrounding tracks, but it still proves itself to be a sweet and memorable pop tune that shines bright despite being sandwiched between much more prominent tracks. The final track of the setlist is “Having a Party.” It closes the album off excellently, although the fact that it closes the album off at all could be seen as a negative. “I don’t wanna quit!” he shouts, and you can tell the audience shares the sentiment. This is a performance that you just don’t want to end.

Just over a year after this live album was recorded, tragedy struck. To this day, the circumstances remain shrouded in mystery, but all that is known for sure about what happened can be summarized as the following. On December 11th, 1964, Bertha Franklin, manager of the Hacienda Hotel in Los Angeles, was confronted by Sam Cooke, who burst into her office half naked, seemingly in a daze. Franklin believed he was going to attack her, and in response pulled out a gun and shot Cooke in the chest. She maintained her stance that it was in self-defense, but many to this day refuse to believe her version of the story. Firstly, there were no witnesses other than Bertha Franklin herself. Secondly and perhaps most damningly of all, Cooke’s body was found to have been badly beaten in the autopsy report. To this day nobody knows the truth of what really happened, and both sides carry valid points and arguments. Either way, fans were utterly horrified and distraught. 200,000 people attended Sam Cooke’s funeral a week later, and he remains regarded as one of R&B’s greatest talents.

In spite of the tragedy that loomed in the near future, this live recording remains an engrossing document of a man at the absolute peak of his musical talents. Live at the Harlem Square Club is one of the greatest live recordings of the decade, and any fan of classic rock and R&B owes it to themself to give this record a good listen. This one has my top recommendation.

Favorite Tracks: “It’s All Right / For Sentimental Reasons,” “Somebody Have Mercy,” “Twistin’ the Night Away,” ” Feel It,” “Bring it on Home to Me”

Next Up: The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady by Charles Mingus (1963)

Album Review #37: A Christmas Gift for You by Phil Spector (1963)

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A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector

Nothing quite like having to review a Christmas album in April, is there?

The genre of holiday-specific music has such a stigma surrounding it. I’m not saying I don’t completely understand it. It’s just that through all of the ad-nauseum overplaying of the same three to four standards for almost three whole months every year, it can be hard to remember that, when taken at face value, they’re not at all bad songs. The tragedy of Christmas music is, sadly, that for most people, these songs have been overplayed to the point that hearing a couple notes out of their melody is enough to trigger flashbacks. So in spite of all this, my mission for this review is to give these holiday staples a fair, unbiased assessment, and judge them without any of the knee-jerk reactions they tend to get three-quarters of each year. You ready? Alright, let’s do this.

“White Christmas.” This is a great start to the album, performed by Darlene Love. Her voice is beautiful, and the pulsating, rhythmic instrumentation is excellent. The lyrics aren’t really that relatable for me personally, having to suffer through the hell that is the Midwestern Winter every year, but I can see where they’re coming from. Grass is always greener on the other side, after all. “Frosty the Snowman.” Alright, this one can spark revulsion in a lot of people, and I will admit I personally find it to be one of the album’s weaker tracks, but at least it’s somewhat catchy. It’s not my least favorite holiday standard, but it’s down there. At least The Ronettes’ rendition has personality. “The Bells of St. Mary,” performed by Bob B. Soxx and The Blue Jeans, isn’t that bad, with a pretty impressive vocal performance from Mr. Soxx himself, and an almost angelic chorus backing him. Next up is “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,”  performed by The Crystals. I know it’s a pretty tired joke at this point, but I still can’t help but find the lyrics to be somewhat disturbing. Seriously, the lyrics make Mr. Claus out to be some sort of all-seeing Orwellian dictator, and the cheery melodies only somehow make it even more mildly unsettling. Oh well, at least The Crystals have great harmony. After that comes “Sleigh Ride.” I’ll admit, I have a bit of a soft spot for this one. The main melody is just damn catchy, and I can’t deny that this is one Christmas song I don’t mind hearing outside of the typical holiday season. Last on Side A is “Marshmallow World,” which is probably my favorite track off of the album. Performed once again by Darlene Love, it’s just stupidly catchy, with a pretty great saxophone solo to boot. Maybe it’s just because I’ve heard it before the least out of all of them, but this one just strikes me as the album’s highest point.

Phil Spector, eltrochilero(dot)com

Phil Spector looking cool in his producer’s booth. Image source: eltrochilero.com

Side B starts off strong with my second favorite track off the album, “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” Sung by The Ronettes, it’s got a really interesting melody, with a great harmony from the instruments and backup singers. After that’s The Crystals’ rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” which, I’m sad to say, isn’t really anything special. I don’t know why, maybe it’s just how many times I’ve heard it before, but it just doesn’t seem to do that much to set it apart from the slew of other versions by countless other artists. It isn’t bad, not at all, but it just doesn’t stand out to me as much as the songs it’s surrounded by. “Winter Wonderland,” performed once again by Darlene Love, is excellent, with a superb chorus and great plucked strings. Strangely, it seems to have a subtly more lo-fi aesthetic to it compared to surrounding tracks. I’m not sure if it’s done intentionally on Spector’s part, but either way it makes it sound even better. “Parade of the Wooden Soldiers” is up next, and The Crystals give their usual great choir-of-singers treatment to it, accompanied by some great percussion, as well as a trumpet interlude. Darlene Love has one last hurrah with “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” with probably her best vocal performance of the album, backed by some great instrumental harmony to boot. The saxophones on this one are awesome, not to mention the piano part. Finally, Bob B. Soxx and the Blue Jeans reappear for the final time for “Here Comes Santa Claus.” His vocals are pretty good, and the backup singers are alright, but overall, this one just doesn’t stand out as much as the others. The track that precedes it kind of overshadows it, and sadly, I would say that this one is one of the record’s more forgettable tracks. The album is closed off by a nice little spoken word thank-you note delivered by Spector himself, backed by an instrumental “Silent Night.” He seems really proud of everyone involved, and he’s really, really happy you bought his album this Christmas season.

Probably the most significant aspect of this album is its production style. Dubbed the “Wall of Sound,” it was Spector’s trademark. It involved mastering the record so that it sounded like every instrument came together as one, heavy sound, and it was virtually unheard-of at the time. I personally think it sounds incredible, and although the sound can be somewhat polarizing for some, you can’t deny the influence it had on the world of music. Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys was heavily impacted by this style, even naming A Christmas Gift for You as his favorite album of all time. The style can even be heard in genres and bands decades in the future, with shoegaze bands such as My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive, many metal bands, and pretty much the entirety of popular music to at least a small extent. Phil Spector’s musical vision changed the whole of music, and no matter what you think of his work, you can’t deny his massive importance.

So, yeah. Now for the elephant in the room. Yep, it’s no secret that Phil wasn’t exactly the most stable person in the production buisness. In fact, he threatened both The Ramones and Leonard Cohen at gunpoint during the production of their respective albums, and working with him was almost never a pleasant experience for anyone involved. This all culminated in 2009, when he was charged with the second-degree murder of Lana Clarkson on his estate. He is currently serving his sentance of 19-years-to-life in prison. So it comes as no surprise that, for many people, enjoying his life’s work can be a little difficult. I generally do a pretty good job of separating the art from the artist, but I have to admit that in this case, even just hearing him speak is a little bit on the uncomfortable side. If you can’t separate the music from the person, that’s totally understandable. I understand that this album is a pretty bad double-whammy of a hard-sell, being an album of Christmas music produced by a convicted murderer. But if you can somehow see past all that, you’ll find a pretty revolutionary catchy pop album. I just don’t blame you at all for steering clear.

Favorite Tracks: “Marshmallow Land,” “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” “Sleigh Ride,” “Winter Wonderland”

Next Up: Live at the Harlem Square Club by Sam Cooke (1963)

Album Review #36: The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan by Bob Dylan (1963)

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The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan

This is one of those albums that’s difficult to talk about. Bob Dylan is simply one of the most important musicians of all time, full stop. I mean, how exactly do you go about writing a review of a Nobel prize laureate’s greatest masterpiece? There isn’t a single track on this thing that doesn’t have something huge to say about the human spirit, and each of Dylan’s lyrics are perfectly written to deliver said messages. With nothing but an acoustic guitar, harmonica and a whiny, nasally voice, he managed to make one of the most culturally significant, emotional and timeless albums of all time, thanks almost solely to the sheer power and brilliance of his songwriting. This is one of those records that should simply be made required listening for the entire human race, and that’s an honor that only a handful of albums have ever been worthy of.

As by far the most acclaimed and popular album of Mr. Dylan’s acoustic era, this album can be a bit hard to approach. My advice for a first time listener is to just sit back, forget about the status the record holds, and just listen to the lyrics as they come. Don’t think too hard about them, at least not on your first listen: just hear them and let their emotion and power do their thing. The beauty of the songwriting here is that, unlike a lot of his later work, the lyrics aren’t that hard to understand. They say what they mean, and they’re strong enough on their own to have an impact without much of a hidden meaning or symbolism behind them. He knows exactly how to get you sad, angry and happy with nothing but a good melody and a stroke of the pen. His guitar work doesn’t hurt either: the excellent chord progressions and rhythmic strumming are a perfect chaser for his lyrics, and his guitar proves itself to be more than enough instrumentation necessary to hold the entire record up on its own. His harmonica is great too: on the tracks where it shows up, it serves as a nice (although rather shrill at points) partner to his guitar, blowing out short bursts of improvised harmony that glue together the song quite well. All said, his lyrics really are the true star of the show here. Listening to this masterpiece, it’s difficult to deny that he deserved that Nobel Prize in Literature moreso than almost any other singer-songwriter of the 20th century.

Bob Dylan 1963, nprdotcom

Dylan c. 1963. Image source: npr.com

In terms of individual tracks, this record is positively jam-packed with classics. Right off the bat we have “Blowin’ in the Wind,” one of Dylan’s most world-famous songs. It’s lyrics are a powerful indictment of war and fighting in all of its forms, and it retains its poignancy and relevancy even to this day. Telling of this album’s excellency, then, that it isn’t even close to the album’s best track. The album’s third track, “Masters of War,” is chilling and filled with pure rage so strong you can feel it in your stomach. It’s probably the album’s most direct and un-subtle anti-war statement, and it’s all the better for it. The pure hatred in his voice is almost startling, and if you aren’t at least a little angry and/or upset by the end of it, you’re either a robot or just didn’t pay it that much attention. Then there’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall.” I honestly don’t even know if I have the writing prowess to communicate the qualities of this song, so I’ll just say that it’s jaw-droppingly beautiful, and you just need to experience it. There are a few other great tracks worth mentioning too: “Talkin’ World War III Blues” is a darkly humorous account of the end-times, and “Oxford Town” is a brief, depressing picture of segregation and racism on college campuses.  Really though, every track on this album is important and deserves recognition. Dylan didn’t waste a single song when making this album, and all 50 minutes of it still feel fresh today.

This is just one of those albums. It’s hard to talk about, because I don’t want to overhype it, but at the same time, it’s wholeheartedly deserving of said hype. It’s the perfect showcase of Bob Dylan’s songwriting ability, not to mention his guitar playing, and is one of the most essential records of the folk genre, right up there with Woody Guthrie’s Dust Bowl Ballads. It’s an album that was both timely in 1963 when it came out and timeless and relevant even today, almost 55 years after its release. It retains its sense of urgency and relevancy through (for the most part) refraining to reference contemporary figures and events, and in doing so, it creates a politically charged, powerful and still-applicable record that can be repeatedly discovered and loved by each generation to come.

Favorite Tracks: “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall,” “Masters of War,” “Talkin’ World War III Blues,” “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Oxford Town”

Next Up: A Christmas Gift for You by Phil Spector (1963)

Album Review #35: With The Beatles by The Beatles (1963)

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With the Beatles, The Beatles

This album is hard for me to review. Not because of how ludicrously important it is to music as a whole, (I had no problem reviewing Elvis Presley or Kind of Blue, after all) but simply because of how close and personal it is to me. This right here is, like, all I would listen to as a kid, and as such almost every track holds a deep-rooted nostalgia factor to me. I’ll try to review this record as objectively as I can, but in this instance that will be pretty much borderline impossible. Anyways, as the first of seven Beatles albums included in the book, (but not the first Beatles album, as Please Please Me sadly did not make the cut) this album has a lot of hype to live up to. Thankfully, I would say that it absolutely does.

First off, simply for clarity, every Beatles album I will be reviewing will be the original U.K. release, and not the butchered and gutted North American versions released by Capitol. In addition, going forward, if there are two separate versions of a specific album, I will be reviewing the version with more content. If the two versions both contain tracks unique to each other, I’ll be reviewing a sort of “composite” version containing all tracks, such as, for example, Aftermath by The Rolling Stones or Are You Experienced? by The Jimi Hendrix Experience. Alright, back on topic. This album, or at least the crappy Capitol version Meet the Beatles, was their big breakthrough in America, and hearing the plethora of grade-A pop songs on this record, it isn’t difficult to see why. Right from the get-go, “It Won’t Be Long” explodes with superb guitar hooks and “yeah” chanting, and the follow-up, “All I’ve Got to Do” sports some fantastic vocal harmonies. “All My Loving” is just a hypnotic whirlwind of guitar strumming and harmonized lyrics, and to be perfectly honest, every single track on this album has something going for it. I think my personal favorite would have to be “Till There Was You,” which is really just beautiful. It serves as a nice break from the energetic rock and roll populating the rest of the record.

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The Beatles, c. 1963.

From left to right: John Lennon, George Harrison, Paul McCartney, and Ringo Starr.

Image Source: fanpop.com

While this is certainly the better album by a longshot, I think its predecessor Please Please Me deserves a mention as well. It’s looser, less refined, and generally just less developed as With The Beatles, but its collection of tracks is still quite strong; the opener, “I Saw Her Standing There,” is as good as anything on its follow-up, “Love Me Do” is fully deserving of its status as first Beatles hit, and of course their cover of “Twist and Shout” is simply essential. With The Beatles is still the superior album, however. It just seems to know what it’s doing so much more, and each and every melody, harmony, hook and bridge just feels more well-thought-out. Please Please Me is more of a picture of the learning artist than the artist at its peak, and With The Beatles a portrait of the artist that has improved upon itself and truly refined their craft.

In summary, With The Beatles is one of the best showcases of their pure, basic pop-making expertise of their discography. Each song is short and to-the-point, and every hook and melody is memorable and well-written. Later albums would see them drop their mop-top personas and dive head-first into innovation and experimentalism, but if you’re looking for a good picture of their music-making skill in its most basic form, there’s no better place to start than here.

Favorite Tracks: “Till There Was You,” “All I’ve Got to Do,” “It Won’t Be Long,” “All My Loving”

Next Up: The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan by Bob Dylan (1963)

Album Review #34: Night Life by Ray Price (1963)

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“So me and The Cherokee Cowboys are knockin’ on your record player once more, and we hope that you can just kinda sit back, kick off your shoes, and relax, just a little bit, and listen to our latest album. And if you like it, tell us about it won’t you?” –From “Introduction and Theme”

I like it, Ray. I like it a lot. This record is certainly not the happiest album out there. In fact, it’s incredibly despondent and gloomy, but in a way it’s also strangely calming. The arrangements are sweet and easy-on-the-ears, but the lyrics are depressive and miserable, and it’s this juxtaposition that makes the album so disarming. The record’s sadness catches you off guard, and when it comes to creating an atmosphere and mood, no other country album so far on this list has topped this one. Created as a tribute to lonely barflies everywhere, it’s a potent statement of loneliness that’ll resonate with pretty much anyone.

Ray Price’s vocals are wonderful, and Willie Nelson’s guitar and backup vocals are a treat, but the real star of the show here is Buddy Emmons’ pedal-steel guitar. Creating beautiful, harmonious tones that have now become iconic to the “Nashville Sound,” a subgenre of country in which Price was a trailblazer, it ties every song together quite nicely. For those unfamiliar with the instrument, this video is a highly recommended watch. The fiddle that shows up on several tracks is a welcome addition to the band’s sound, and Floyd Cramer’s piano is, despite being subtle and easily missable, a very nice compliment to the rest of the instruments. The band’s overall style is spot-on, creating a genre-defining sound with the pedal-steel guitar and fiddle, and this only serves to amplify the emotions on display in this record. The interesting thing is that the majority of the album’s tracks are in major, and still manage to emanate an almost tangible sense of sadness and lamentation through Ray Price’s singing and lyrics alone. Not all sad songs have to be in minor: quite the opposite, in fact, as often songs in a major key can be the most gut-wrenching.

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Ray Price at the microphone with his acoustic guitar. Image source: digitalspy.com

The album opens with a nice, leisurely introduction (quoted above), before launching into the title track, one of Ray Price’s most popular songs, despite it originally being a Willie Nelson song. He just so happens to sing backup vocals on the rest of the record though, so it’s cool. As with many of the album’s other tracks, the star of this one is that good ol’ pedal-steel guitar. Providing a soothing, yet mournful riff that really exemplifies Nelson’s lonely and down-in-the-dumps lyrics, it takes the song from quality country track to unforgettable hit. “Lonely Street,” the next track, keeps up the sadness, adding backup vocals from Willie Nelson. Some other great songs include “The Wild Side of Life,” “The Twenty-Fourth Hour” and “Pride,” which each bring something new to the table in terms of pure country-style angst.

Every track here works together to create one big country concept album, the ultimate expression of loneliness and gloom. Ray Price wasn’t the first country artist to fully embrace manly tears, but you could argue he did it the best. And hey, if you’re not in the mood for a real downer of an album, just don’t pay attention to the lyrics and you’ve got yourself a relaxing and calm half-hour of music that’ll sooth your nerves in a jiffy. No matter which angle you look at it from, this is a genre-defining album for the “Nashville Sound” of country that would be endlessly emulated for decades to come, and is most definitely deserving of a listen. And if you like it, tell them about it, won’t you?

Favorite Tracks: “Night Life,” “Lonely Street,” “The Twenty-Fourth Hour,” “The Wild Side of Life,” “Pride”

Next Up: With the Beatles by The Beatles (1963)

Album Review #33: Jazz Samba by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd (1962)

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This right here is widely credited as the album that first introduced the genre of bossa nova to American ears, and there really is no better album to do the job. There doesn’t seem to be a moment within this album without a catchy rhythm, ultra-soothing melody, or just overall relaxing sound. This album is calm, cool, and just plain enjoyable and feel-good. Art can just get so gloomy and depressing sometimes, you know? It’s refreshing when an album comes along with the sole goal of simply making the listener smile and enjoy themself. So if you’re feeling down, this is a great album to pick you right up.

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Stan Getz. Image source: bassic-sax.info

Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd on this record are a match made in heaven. With Stan on the sax and Charlie on the classical guitar, the two work together and combine perfectly, complimenting each other excellently with each note and chord. This album uses stereo very interestingly, splitting the two between the two audio channels so that the two both get a channel all to themselves, with Stan on the left, Charlie on the right, and the bass and drums centered in the middle. This makes for an absolutely blissful experience when wearing headphones, and I really think it’s the best way to experience this record. Anyways, back to the performances themselves. Stan plays wonderful improvised melodies on his tenor, and Charlie’s harmonies and chords are pure perfection as a backup instrument. The other players are not to be ignored however: Bill Reichenbach Sr. and Buddy Deppenschmidt provide excellent percussion, and Keter Betts’ bass is indispensable. They all work together to create the perfect relaxing mood, and simply sitting back in a comfortable chair and enjoying the record is something that simply must be experienced.

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Charlie Byrd. Image Source: archive.jsonline.com

The opener and hit single “Desafinado” is probably the highlight of the album’s seven tracks, with an almost stupidly calming and ear-pleasing intro, but the other six aren’t slouches either. “O Pato” is short but incredibly sweet, and the final track, “Bahia,” acts as a perfect wrap-up of the album. Picking favorites really just does the album a disservice though, and much like Bill Evans Trio’s Sunday at the Village Vanguard, it really is better when taken as one cohesive whole, rather than a simple collection of tracks. They’re all so calm and soothing anyway, that you’re pretty much too relaxed and at peace to really differentiate the tracks. And I guess that more than anything is a better sign of a great album, rather than having anything that could be called the “best track” out of the bunch.

So this record was my first experience with the bossa nova, and let me tell you, I am in love. This record truly was the best ambassador for the genre to the general American listener, and whether its popularity is owed to its sound being unfamiliar or simply because it’s a great record is a little hard to tell. But really, does it matter? Album’s good. That’s all I really care about. Do yourself a service and just chill out to this album. You’ll thank me.

Favorite Tracks: “Desafinado,” “O Pato,” “Samba de Uma Nota Só,” “Bahia”

Next Up: Night Life by Ray Price (1963)

Album Review #32: Green Onions by Booker T. and The M.G.s (1962)

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Green Onions, Booker T and the M G s

If Jimmy Smith broke new ground by opening the gate for the organ to enter the world of mainstream music, Booker T. and The M.G.s were the ones to truly refine it to its peak potential as an artform. Whereas Jimmy Smith used it as a jazz instrument, providing mostly cool backing to the other performers, The M.G.s used it as a Rock and Roll instrument, bringing it to the forefront of the band and unleashing its full potential as an artistic tool. Coupling the organ with an electric guitar, bass, and drums, they created an iconic, instantly recognizable sound that both ties it to its time period and never grows old.

Although the M.G.s changed their lineup quite frequently, it is their original lineup, featured here, that is most well-known. Maintained from their debut until three years later in 1965, it featured Booker T. Jones on the Hammond organ, Steve Cropper on guitar, Lewie Steinberg on bass, and Al Jackson Jr. on drums. While it’s hard to deny that Booker T.’s organ is the highlight of the ensemble, credit must be given to Steve Cropper’s guitar. He has a distinct playing style that compliments the organ quite well. The band’s overall style is unmistakably theirs, and still holds up very well today. It sounds somewhat like a strange marriage of classic rock and roll and baseball stadium music, and it is absolutely a good thing. Even the covers on this record sound more like M.G.s songs than their original artist’s. You could listen to a song of their’s that you’ve never even heard before, and still easily identify it as their song, and that really is the mark of a band who’s perfected their craft.

Booker T. and The M.G.s rollingstonedotcom

From left to right: Booker T. Jones, Steve Cropper, Al Jackson Jr., Lewie Steinberg.

Image source: rollingstone.com

When it comes to tracks, boy does this album pack a punch. Right off the bat there’s the title track, their most successful single and one of the most recognizable songs of the first half of the Sixties. The organ on this track is borderline perfect, providing without a doubt the most memorable melody of the entire record. Cropper’s guitar plays with short, chopped-up notes that go excellently with the organ line underneath it. The whole track really is just a joy to listen to, and is absolutely deserving of its enduring popularity. Up next is “Rinky Dink,” a nice, catchy tune with a great guitar hook, and after that is a superb cover of the Ray Charles staple “I Got a Woman” that more than does the original justice. However, with the exception of the final track “Comin’ Home Baby,” Side B kind of just falls flat, at least compared to Side A. It isn’t bad, but just isn’t really as interesting as the first side. “Comin’ Home Baby” is incredible however, with a quiet, subtle mood and strangely sad organ part that wraps up the album quite nicely.

So even if the second side wasn’t the greatest, this album is more than worth a listen. Even if you’ve never heard of the band before, “Green Onions” and to an extent the songs that follow it are so ingrained in American culture that you’ve more than likely heard it before without even knowing it. And their success is deserving: they created their own style and refined it to perfection, further solidifying the organ as an acceptable instrument in popular music. Even regardless of its importance, it’s just a fun listen. I would highly recommend this one.

Favorite Tracks: “Green Onions,” Rinky Dink,” “I Got a Woman,” “Comin’ Home Baby”

Next Up: Jazz Samba by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd (1962)

Album Review #31: Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music by Ray Charles (1962)

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Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music Ray Charles

Ray Charles’ previous album on this list, The Genius of Ray Charles, was really just a warmup. This is Ray at his peak. Every track is passionate, soulful, and moving, even the fast and upbeat ones. This record is pure innovation at its finest. It’s just bounding with creativity, and each of the twelve tracks on display here are Ray Charles at the absolute pinnacle of his artistic abilities. He takes classic country songs that you would never think would be compatible with his R&B/Big Band style and makes them work beautifully, making the old standards feel new and exciting while retaining the emotion of the original. It’s a perfect fusion of the old and the new, and it holds up marvelously even today.

It was certainly a radical creative decision. His current audience would be averse to the country, and the country crowd would be averse to the jazz/R&B. It seemed, to the record executives at least, to be career suicide. But somehow, against all odds, he pulled it off. It wasn’t chance either. Ray Charles’ genius as a musician turned the album that would never be a success into a cultural phenomenon, winning over the critics, the public, and even his own fans in one fell swoop. Listening to it, his mastery of the artform is impossible to deny. Each and every lyric is sung with emotion and passion so strong you can feel it in your chest, and the arrangements that back his vocals are masterful, perfectly complimenting the lyrics with soul-melting harmony. Most of the album is slow balladry, but the one or two fast big band tunes are exciting as anything on The Genius of Ray Charles. No matter what kind of song it is, Ray just seems to know exactly what to do to make it perfect.

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Image source: kalamu.com

The album’s first track, “Bye Bye Love,” doesn’t pull any punches. It’s explosive, energetic, and so catchy it should be considered a cognitohazard. That said, at the same time it’s bizarrely sad. The lyrics, like the majority of the album, are a pretty depressing tale of lost love, and despite being completely at odds with the tone of the music, it weirdly works. The backup singers will stick in your head for days, and the percussion drives the song along excellently.The next track, “You Don’t Know Me,” is my personal favorite song off the album. Here, Ray trades out the brass band for a string section, and goes full on depressing string ballad with lyrics about unrequited love and isolation. The chords and harmonies are haunting, and Ray’s vocals are just painfully sad and mournful. He sure does know exactly what to do to pull at your heartstrings in a moment, and he doesn’t hold back. The rest of the album keeps up the standard set by the first two tracks, and even though most of the lyrics deal with the same topic, it still feels fresh throughout. He may not have written the lyrics, but the way he performs them with every inch of his soul, he might as well have. The final track, “Hey Good Lookin’,” ends the album on a more uplifting note, dropping the doom and gloom and leaving the record on a happy, upbeat big band tune that’s a welcome shift from the rest of the record, and does a great job of helping your mood recover before it closes.

This album is indispensable. Not only did it help bridge barriers in a time of severe racial tension, but it also broke down the barrier between genres for future style experimenters, all while simply giving the world an excellent album to enjoy. It’s without a doubt Ray Charles’ greatest achievement, and anyone interested in his music should give this record a listen.

Favorite Tracks: “You Don’t Know Me,” “Bye Bye Love,” “I Love You So Much It Hurts,” “Hey Good Lookin'”

Next Up: Green Onions by Booker T. and The M.G.s (1962)