For a while in the mid-‘70s there were earnest discussions of punk versus New Wave. New Wave followed punk, and at its best it was as angry and edgy as punk, but the music was better, the lyrics were better, and some of it was funny. My Aim Is True shows all that. In (Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes, Costello works in a joke. ‘I said “I’m so happy I could die.” “Drop dead,” she said, then left with another guy.’ In Welcome to the Working Week, the job is for a woman to appear half-naked on Page 3 of a London paper. Miracle Man features the singer cynically offering to crawl around on all fours, unlike the anguish in Clapton’s Bell Bottom Blues. (Miracle Man plays during a seduction scene in Godfather III.) Waiting for the End of the World has the line ‘Dear Lord, I sincerely hope you’re coming, ‘cause you really started something.’ In I’m Not Angry Anymore, Costello uses the word ‘angry’ about 40 times. Trust me, he’s angry. And this is just a small part of what made this album stand out.
Curtis Jones, Lonesome Bedroom Blues, Delmar, 1962
As I prepared to write this one up, I was worried that its age and obscurity would limit how much I could find on-line. Turns out Bob Dylan recorded Highway 51, a tune Jones wrote, so there is plenty about that song on the internet. Yet this record was deleted from Wikipedia because it isn’t notable. Jones lived in Europe, where he was popular, for the last 10 years of his life.
I like piano blues. No one has ever called me sophisticated. Other artists in my collection include Professor Longhair, Blind John Davis, Little Richard, Andy Chatman, and One-Arm Slim.
Bob Seger, Smokin’ OP’S, Palladium, 1972
If one bums cigarettes (instead of buying a pack), one could be said to be smoking the brand OP’s (for Other People’s). This is an album with two original songs and seven OPs. I found out today that the E. Anderson with song-writing credit for Let It Rock was Charles Edward Anderson Berry. For years I thought it was the folk singer Eric Anderson who had perhaps won a bet that he could write a tune that sounded just like Chuck Berry. I love the Innertubes.
Seger doesn’t sing many songs of the ‘I love my baby and my baby loves me’ type. His are more of the ‘failed high school passion viewed 10 or 20 years down the road’ type. So it was a change to hear him sing Love the One You’re With. I like it, but Seger went back to the ‘wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then’ songs.
For years, Seger did everything he could to limit the availability of his first five albums. We’ve all done some things we regret later, but I’m saying Smokin’ OP’S is something to be proud of.
Faces, Long Player, Warner Brothers, 1971
I liked Every Picture Tells a Story and Gasoline Alley, so when I saw this in a used record store I took a chance. I’m always interested in hearing Big Bill Broonzy songs, and I’d heard Had Me a Real Good Time on the radio and hoped it could be part of my philosophy of life. It isn’t bad advice: I was glad to be here, I’ll be sad to go, as long as I’m here I’ll have me a real good time. That will do for retirement. The problem with the album is that there’s nothing as good as Cut Across Shorty, much less Maggie May.
For years I was hoping to find a song about going to Jerusalem I‘d heard in the dorm in 1968. When I saw Jerusalem was on this album, I thought I had a chance. Not close, but I finally found it thanks to the Innerwebs. It was by Hello People, named (As, I Went Down to) Jerusalem. There’s a scratchy version on YouTube.
Johnny Cash, The Legend, Sun, recorded 1955-58, compiled and released 1970
Cash had a weekly television show for about two years starting in 1969. It was a big step for him on his path to The Man in Black. He’d had at least three brushes with the law, as they say, in the mid ‘60s. News magazines said he had problems with diet pills. It was time for him to straighten up. Bob Dylan was a guest on his first show. Dylan needed to buff his image as well. He hadn’t released a record in a while; the news magazines speculated he’d rehabbed a heroin habit. They sat down and did Girl from the North Country. It was exciting to see them together; they certainly hadn’t rehearsed too much. This record of Cash’s old material was released to take advantage of the popularity of his TV show.
The songs are in blues format, but Cash doesn’t seem to feel them. The lyrics to I Walk the Line are soul-felt, but Cash’s delivery seems matter of fact. (Ring of Fire isn’t on this record for comparison.) Folsom Prison Blues is stiff compared to the live version he released later.
Vinyl LPs have so much more than CDs and streaming. Some of it is big, such as album covers. What caught my attention about this double record it that the first disc has Side 1 and Side 3; disc 2 has sides 2 and 4. I puzzled about that for a bit—it’s for the all-in-one record players. Put Side 1 and Side 2 facing up on the tall spindle, move the arm over, and hit play. When the second record is done, turn them over and repeat. You’ve played them both in order with no fuss. Me, I had to either put the first disc away to play Side 2 or play the sides out of order. I saw a Spirit album cover today that featured a phone booth prominently. Times and technology change.
Sea Train, Sea Train, A&M, 1969
I saw Sea Train in Cleveland in 1968—they did everything very well but nothing made me want to get up and dance. They had an odd origin story. The Blues Project wanted to break up, but they owed Verve Forecast another record. Those folks who were there at the end recorded Planned Obsolescence (funny, I think), then made this record as Sea Train. Their second album was named Seatrain (one word). That’s just confusing. Their music checked every box. Blues—heck, they were the Blues Project, doing Two Trains Running and Louisiana and mojos. Jazz—they were playing fusion before it was cool. Prog rock–they opened for Traffic on one tour. Let The Duchess No sounds like Bob Wills—Richard Greene was an excellent fiddler. I have thought I heard their stuff in the ‘70s as intro for local news shows and as a soundtrack for low-budget documentaries.
Funky Fifties!, various artists, Harlem Hitparade, compilation
I like doo wop or old-school rhythm and blues, whatever you call it, so there will be more. Rockin’ Robin has lyrics that simulate birds’ chirping—tweedle-lee-dee-dee-dee, twiddle-dee dee dee. I remember the song from my childhood, but I could never get those lyrics right. That pretty little raven at the bird bandstand taught him how to do the bop—I didn’t understand that line. For years I wondered why the robin had to compete with the buzzard and the oriole; today I decided that they didn’t symbolize anything, it was just to fit the meter. Love Potion No. 9, sorry to say, was done better by the Searchers than the Clovers. Muddy Waters had songs about love charms—this one is an innocent tale. The YouTube version refers to going back for No. 10. Hey Little School Girl is a frequent theme in r and b. ‘Pretty little girl walking down the street/you look so fine, look so neat/Hey little girl will you be mine/I wanna love you all the time’—when the Paragons sing it, it isn’t the least bit salacious. Something I didn’t know—the song is on Herb Alpert’s album with the cover featuring a young woman wearing nothing apparent except whipped cream.
Red Octopus, Jefferson Starship, Grunt, 1975
I wanted to get to this for Valentine’s Day. Miracles is a wonderful love song—I don’t have any doubts despite the ‘if only’ construction for getting by. It means that’s all we need: believe in ourselves and each other. That’s easy enough. It is about the same in Tumblin’—Don’t be blue/I’ll stand by you/and we’ll get that feeling. Ai Garimasu (more or less There is Love in Japanese) says because you gave me your love, I know exactly who to call. Sweeter Than Honey contains ‘warm as a piece of the sun, softer than starlight’ as well as ‘you’re the best thing I’ve ever had.’ There Will Be Love is a bold declaration: Even when I close my eyes, all I see is you. (I am an old softie, and even I think that is sappy.) Play on Love asks the listener to put the books down and live love; I think Grace Slick took that from Catullus, a great source. It’s up to you and up to me/Come down yelling ‘Timber!’ through the burning trees—that is as high energy and as chaotic as rock and roll.
There’s a good saxophone break in Miracles and two decent instrumental songs, one of which is named for an archangel who has his feet on the ground and his head in heaven (thanks, Wikipedia).
Chuck (Berry) and Friends, Brookville Records, 1974
The album cover says Brookville; the record labels say Aristocrat. It’s a three-record set. Record 1 has 13 of Berry’s hits, including his only #1 song in the U.S., My Ding-a-Ling, as well as the first Chuck Berry tune I ever heard, Roll Over Beethoven. (Even Wikipedia omits the comma before the name of a person being addressed. My mother would be sad.) A Cleveland radio station had a battle of the bands in late 1963 (as I recall). One of the songs they played by the Beatles was Roll Over Beethoven. The Beatles lost. They were not a good Chuck Berry cover band.
Chuck Berry deeply understood teenage anxiety and driving with no particular place to go. Carol, Maybelline, and Little Queenie, to name a few, are immortal. How could it be that Berry’s biggest hit was a novelty song about masturbation? My modest conspiracy theory is based on Watergate. June 17, 1972, was the night of the bungled break-in at the Democratic National Committee office. The story didn’t go away. And so the cover-up crew in the White House got involved. They wanted to distract the media with an outrageous story that would create controversy. The song was released in July and it made #1 in October. That didn’t seem to help Nixon any, but the news coverage—people wanted it banned!—must have helped sales.
Dick Clark, 20 Years of Rock ‘n’ Roll (compilation), Buddah Records, 1973
This was a chance for Buddah to get some more mileage from their backlist and for Clark to put another cog in his humongous media machine. He started producing the Rockin’ New Year’s Eve and kicked off the $10,000 Pyramid at about the same time.
The songs on this record from 1964 to 1972
Shangri-Las Leader of the Pack
Sam the Sham & the Pharoahs Wooly Bully
Righteous Brothers You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling
McCoys Hang On Sloopy
Lovin’ Spoonful Do You Believe in Magic
Young Rascals Good Lovin’
Van Morrison Brown-Eyed Girl
Otis Redding Dock of the Bay
Tommy James Crimson & Clover
Edwin Hawkins Oh Happy Day
Melanie Candles in the Rain
Curtis Mayfield Super Fly
Al Green So You’re Leaving
It was a great time to be a teenager.
converselyspeaking 