This was actually written over the second week of February, but there's been more important things to cover going on here on the Capitol Square, and it's been busy around the Isthmus offices. So here 'tis, just a bit late.
I'm making a valiant effort to get caught up from a long vacation and can't take the time all at once to focus on one (or even several) albums. So I'm going to try something a bit different: a few lines about everything that hits the table this week. Have I ever mentioned how lucky I am to have a job where I can listen to music while I work -- and the ability to multi-task? At least the Guv hasn't tried to outlaw that yet.
Monday
Hedy West: Old Times and Hard Times
Morning seems like a good time for some folk music. After years of searching, I finally found a couple Hedy West LPs Both feature arrestingly stripped-down vocal/banjo recreations of Southern hill folk balladry. West is perhaps best remembered these days for helping popularize -- and, for many folk boom versions, claim a writing credit -- for the song "500 Miles," a major hit record for Peter Paul and Mary and Bobby Bare (somewhat re-written) in the early '60s. West's version itself was likely put together from a similar older ballad, "900 Miles." However, since that song's not on this disc I don't know why I'm discussing it. (Folk-Legacy, 1967)
The Status Cymbal: In the Morning
The lone album by a relatively obscure sunshine pop vocal trio. As with many RCA albums from the time, this is about half-ok and half-MORed to death by house producer Felton Jarvis. Neither of the two variations rocks, however. (RCA Victor, 1967)
ZZ Top: Eliminator
I listened to this album approximately two zillion times when it came out, but haven't heard it for probably about 20 years. I was expecting it to remain a guilty pleasure now, but I have to admit this is a really, really good album. The Top's combination of chintzy '80s electronics (not credited anywhere on the album jacket), basic blues and outrageous lyrics still sounds just as weird and fascinating as it did back then. (Warner Brothers, 1983)
The Mystery Girls: Incontinopia
This was the final, essentially posthumous release by the Fox Valley punk/garage band. Today it strikes me that I didn't really express just how experimentally weird this disc is the first time around. Either way, I miss their incendiary live shows. Some of the players can be spotted in current Milwaukee area bands, at least. (In the Red, 2008)
Bad Company: Bad Company
Why am I listening to this? I don't know ... Paul Rodgers? (Swan Song, 1974)
Five Man Electrical Band: Coming of Age
I pulled this one out to listen to as a follow-up to a recent review, and am finally getting around to it. "Absolutely Right" is pretty easily my favorite song by the band. The rest of the album is a mostly interesting mix of numbers reaching for grandiosity and rewrites of "Signs." It's well worth checking out for any fans of classic rock. (Lionel/MGM, 1971)
The Cyrkle: Red Rubber Ball
The Cyrkle's debut album is from the dreaded record collector category of "I had this once, I guess I got rid of it, now I bought it again." It's not as good as the group's follow-up, Neon. That being said, the title hit and "Turn Down Day" are unimpeachable '60s pop, and there's a few other songs here nearly as good, including one written by the mythical genius Brute Force (under his real name) called "There's a Fire in the Fireplace." (Columbia, 1966)
Styx: The Grand Illusion
Oh my. The Styx listening project continues. Last week was Paradise Theater, which was really too slick and overdone for my tastes. This one's a fence-sitter, but eventually fell off on the good side due to its good-naturedly over the top version of prog rock. Who can argue with a song as sublimely ridiculous as "Come Sail Away?" This copy has a poster with it, and is one of the best sounding albums I've heard in awhile. (A&M, 1977)
Tuesday
The Rolling Stones: Between the Buttons
This is the U.S. version, which replaced a couple U.K. album tracks with the Stones' then-current double-sided hit, "Ruby Tuesday" and "Let's Spend the Night Together." While it's hard to argue against the greatness of those songs, I still like the U.K. version better as an album; either version remains an underappreciated mod/pop outlier in their catalog, along with the psych experiment Their Satanic Majesties' Request. (London, 1967)
The Go: Howl on the Haunted Beat You Ride
In which the hook-laden Detroit scuzz-grunge-glam combo's transform into melodic '60s-style popsters. This was a surprise when it came out -- and a memorably unwelcome one to a couple fans of the previous incarnation who showed up for the Madison show during this album's accompanying tour. I didn't agree with the heckling then and still don't now; Howl may not be as bracingly fun as their debut disc, but it's just as good. Since then The Go has been mostly silent, releasing a double-LP of outtakes and remixed versions from Howl and an LP as Conspiracy of Owls, which is out of print at the moment but being re-pressed, according to Burger Records. (Cass, 2007)
Ira Louvin: The Unforgettable Ira Louvin
That sort of album title on a country LP usually means something bad has happened to the performer. Ira Louvin and his wife, Anne (who also wrote many of the songs on this disc), died in a car accident a couple weeks after the final recordings here were made. Ira's recordings were precipitated by brother Charlie's own first solo recordings after what turned out to be the duo's final breakup. As on Charlie's solo recordings, the brotherly harmonies are sorely missing. There's also quite a few somewhat unfortunate, tacked-on sounding countrypolitan arrangements. However, this is still essential listening for fans. (Capitol, 1965)
Dionne Warwick (e): From Within
A crammed-to-the-gills double LP set compiling 32 tracks from the last few years of Dionne's Scepter contract. Along with a side mostly drawn from her rare gospel album from 1968, The Magic of Believing, there's also some previously unreleased material here, including three tracks from the Soulful sessions recorded in Memphis and some other contemporary soul covers I haven't encountered before. It's well worth picking up if encountered. (Scepter, 1972)
Wednesday
Brute Force: Confections of Love
Running across the Brute Force song on the Cyrkle album made me pull this disc out once again. Steven Friedland/Brute Force's magnum opus simultaneously satirizes and serenades '60s pop forms. It's certainly funny on purpose at times but they're all good songs as well, which is why it works. This album was finally reissued last fall; everyone should own one. (Columbia, 1967)
The Gories: I Know You Fine, But How You Doin'
It seems every generation has had their Detroit band keeping the flame of noisy, basic rock 'n roll alive. The Gories were one of the bands for kids in the '80s and early '90s, cranking out three LPs and some singles which have tended to be a bit tricky to find over the years, even after being reissued by Crypt. They're worth tracking down, though, for any fans of garage punk. Since the Gories days, all three members have kept the flame alive by playing with bands such as The Dirtbombs, Demolition Doll Rods, '68 Comeback and various others. They've even done a couple reunion tours recently, including a blistering show in Chicago last fall. (New Rose, 1990/Crypt, 1994)
Charlie Louvin: "Less and Less" and "I Don't Love You Anymore"
Brother Charlie's first solo album is (somewhat understandably) quite a bit better disc than Ira's posthumous bow. He's the stronger lead singer of the pair and has a lot of material provided by crack songwriters (including some stray Ira-Charlie numbers). There's also not a bunch of extraneous production bogging down the music here -- it's just good, straightforward country. (Capitol, 1964)
Thursday
John Hammond: Mirrors
Hammond often looks like a teenager on his Vanguard album covers, and vocally sounds like a cross between Paul Butterfield and John Mayall. It's when his vocals are combined with his solo guitar work that the whole picture comes together for some excellent folk blues. Half this album is solo acoustic and half is with an electric combo, a couple tracks featuring Michael Bloomfield (on piano?), Charlie Musselwhite, Jimmy Lewis and various members of the Band. (Vanguard, 1967)
The Almanac Singers/Pete Seeger: Talking Union & Other Union Songs
The Isthmus offices are right on the Capitol Square, which has been a hub of major activity lately -- to put it mildly -- due to some anti-labor and other extreme policy proposals emanating from the far right (I'll muzzle myself here beyond that). While the Vinyl Cave is normally a place to retire from real-world concerns, it's been near-impossible to be on the Square and focus on much else. So I'm turning to the master for a musical tonic. Taking a political stand in song without falling flat has always been a tricky proposition, and few have done it as well or as steadfastly as Pete Seeger and his various compatriots over the years. This album reissues some early '40s recordings by the Almanac Singers and some other tracks by Seeger and chorus. Solidarity! (Folkways, 1955)
Pete Seeger: I Can See a New Day
An excellent live album from the mid-'60s, which includes versions of a couple songs soon to be covered by The Byrds, "The Bells of Rhymney" and "I Come and Stand at Every Door." (Columbia, 1965)
Pete Seeger: The Rainbow Quest
A somewhat experimental album, the first side of Rainbow Quest is many short pieces combined together; buried in the middle is an early version of "Where Have all the Flowers Gone" and a reading of Joe Hill's will. Side two includes some songs by Ewan Macoll and Peggy Seeger, Pete's half-sister. This is one my favorite Seeger albums. (Folkways 1960/1963).
Pete Seeger: Gazette Vol. 2
An album from a short series of de facto audio newspapers; or, "A Collection of Topical Songs, Old and New Without Direction as to Content or Pressure," as the cover puts it. Catching up all these years later, it's amazing to me that Seeger was able to record the unbelievable amount of discs in his discography and still have created so many which are consistently excellent. (Folkways, 1961)
Friday
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy: The Great Conspiracy
The second album by the underrated L.A. psych-pop combo is even better than their first. It's still produced by Gary Usher, who appears to have left the band to their own devices a bit more this time around. (Columbia, 1968)
Chuck Berry: Golden Decade Vol. 2
Years after Chess Records' first Golden Decade compilation, this second volume appeared in the wake of Berry's surprise chart-topper "My Ding-a-Ling." Almost all the material here smokes "My Ding-a-Ling," even though quite a bit of it appears in emasculated electronic stereo. The liner notes include a detailed sessionography of Berry's 1950s and '60s Chess recordings, but I haven't researched to see just how complete it is. (Chess, 1972)
Nitty Gritty Dirt Band: Rare Junk
Though they eventually became superstars in a more straightforward country-rock mode, the Dirt Band began life as an old-timey jug band who simultaneously went for the pop charts with a series of baroque pop singles. That means their early albums tend to be all over the map, which works in their favor since the group has the talent and panache to pull it off. Rare Junk is their third album, and according to All Music Guide was a collection of studio leftovers compiled during a band breakup. This copy is a promo-only mono version. Within a couple years the group would return in a slimmed down version and break through in a major way with "Mr. Bojangles." (Liberty, 1968).
Beach Boys: Today
Brian Wilson's melancholic, ambivalent masterpieces are beginning to peep out by the time of Today, which includes songs such as "She Knows Me Too Well" and "Please Let Me Wonder." However, there's also still some covers and goofy filler material like "Bull Session with the "Big Daddy" to go along with hits "When I Grow Up," "Dance Dance Dance" and "Do You Wanna Dance." The initial version of "Help Me Ronda" is here too. (Capitol, 1965)
