Stardust
Willie Nelson
Columbia JC 35305
1978
Over the summer I finally caught Willie Nelson live when he played a show at the Hollywood Bowl. He performed this album in its entirety backed up by his band and the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra. I would have been happier if he was performing "Shotgun Willie" or "Red Headed Stranger" as I have never been a fan of this album. When it came out I was a teenager with no appreciation for the classic pop standards and I regarded it as Nelson selling out to the mainstream. I eventually picked up a used copy because I was a fan of the man, but I didn't play it much. As I matured I came to like the standards, but even then when I wanted to hear them I was more likely to put on Sinatra, Tony Bennett or Ella Fitzgerald. However at the Bowl I found myself thoroughly enjoying Nelson's performances of these venerable tunes. He's not a great crooner, but he humanizes the songs and sings them with considerable grace and feeling. So I've started playing this album again and I have to admit I was completely wrong about it. The album opens with "Stardust" by Hoagy Carmichael and Mitchell Parish which introduces Nelson's style on the album, an intimate and understated performance of the song that focuses on the words of the song rather than the virtuoso technique of the singer. Aside from "Moonlight in Vermont" I've heard these songs countless times starting with my father's own record collection, yet for the most part Nelson's performances are the first time I've ever really listened to them and connected to them. Nelson's humble and respectful approach emphasizes the casual lyrical brilliance of these songs and their enchanting melodies are brought out by excellent arrangements from Booker T. Jones who also plays keyboards on the record. Unlike the full blown orchestral arrangements at Nelson's Bowl concert, Jones used a small number of musicians playing quietly in the background only emerging to fill the empty spaces in the song and to deliver compelling and tasteful solos that enhance the emotional appeal of the songs. On "Stardust" (and nearly all of the rest of the album) it is a tasteful harmonica and delicate guitar runs that provide the color to the song. Jones deserves a lot of credit for the success of Nelson's approach. This is particularly evident in Nelson's versions of Hoagy Carmichael and Stuart Gorrell's "Georgia On My Mind" and Irving Berlin's "Blue Skies." I can't hear the former without thinking of Ray Charles' classic performance and the latter is inextricably linked to Al Jolson in my mind. Jones' minimalist arrangements and Nelson's radically different interpretation of the songs, quiet and wistful as opposed to Charles' passion and Jolson's exuberance, get me to listen to the songs as if I had never heard them before. This is also true of Gerald Marks and Seymour Simons' "All of Me" which I associate with Sinatra's swinging version and Alex North and Hy Zaret's "Unchained Melody" which I've heard a gazillion times via the Righteous Brothers' melodramatic Phil Spectorized recording. Nelson gets me to listen freshly to songs I've heard too many times. The exception to this is the opening song on side two, Kurt Weill and Maxwell Anderson's "September Song" which is a song I've long loved and never grown tired of. I'm a big admirer of Weill and this is easily my favorite song on the record. I'm not all that crazy about Nelson's relaxed performance of Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields' "On the Sunny Side of the Street" which I prefer in Louis Armstrong's classic recording from the 1930s. John Blackburn and Karl Suessdorf's "Moonlight in Vermont" I only know from jazz instrumentals. My father had it on one of his Sinatra albums, but I never paid attention to it. Nelson's tender vocal opened up the song to me and it really sends me, such a great song. Duke Ellington and Bob Russell's "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" is a song I know mostly from Ella Fitzgerald's classic cover. This song features a more sprightly vocal from Nelson than the rest of the record, but I don't think it is quite sprite enough. The song needs more energy. George and Ira Gershwin's "Someone to Watch Over Me" is another song I've loved since the first time I heard it. Ella Fitzgerald has my favorite cover of it, but I like Nelson's take on the song nearly as much. It is the most emotionally compelling track on the album. I think the secret to the appeal of this album is its mixture of genres. The songs are indisputably sophisticated pop, but Nelson's vocals are country-flavored and the instrumentation is that of soft rock, folk and quiet soul. I could play this record after listening to a Joni Mitchell or Leonard Cohen album and it would not sound out of place. It is all covers but it sounds personal and heartfelt and that's what I'm usually looking for in a good album. Recommended to fans of Patsy Cline, another country singer who knew how to make a pop standard her own.
Excitable Boy
Warren Zevon
Asylum 6E-118
1978
I went to a Dawes show last year. I'm not a big fan of the band (although I like them for the most part), I really went because I was curious about what makes them tick. I find it hard to believe that a modern group would listen to Jackson Browne and Crosby, Stills and Nash and decide to make music inspired by them. That seems weird even for a bunch of kids from Malibu. I was unfortunate enough to have grown up during both the singer/songwriter heyday and the Los Angeles/Laurel Canyon 1970s rock scene when people actually thought that J. D. Souther and the Eagles were not only talented but cool as well. The only thing that music ever inspired in me was a desire to go back to the 1960s. I did enjoy Dawes' set though. At one point they brought out their hero, Jackson Browne, and I grimaced expecting them to lay into "The Pretender" or something of that ilk, but to Browne's credit he did a Warren Zevon cover instead. When he came back out for the encore he did another Zevon song as well! Kudos to Browne for being humble and for paying tribute to one of the few worthwhile artists to emerge from that scene. That show got me to pull out my Zevon albums and start playing them again. This one is my favorite, a true masterpiece. If you look at the credits on this album, you'd think you were looking at a Linda Ronstadt album or something. It is produced by Browne and Waddy Wachtel backed up by a bunch of Los Angeles sessionmen like Wachtel, Danny Kortchmar and Russell Kunkel as well as ex-Stone Poney, Kenny Edwards. Ronstadt herself even sings back-up on the title tune and Browne and J. D. Souther sing on several cuts as well. The musical sound of the album is mellow and smooth for the most part, like the trademark L. A. sound of that era which does undercut the force of the songs. Zevon comes up with memorable riffs on songs like "Johnny Strikes Up The Band," "Werewolves Of London," and "Lawyers, Guns and Money." If he was backed up by an actual rock band instead of these jaded studio pros, the songs would probably have a lot more bite. "Werewolves of London" is a bit of an exception. It is boistered by Zevon's rollicking piano playing and the Fleetwood Mac rhythm section, guys who know how to rock out from their days working for Peter Green. All the song really needs to put it over the top is some heavy crunchy guitar, but that is hardly Wachtel's forte, although he briefly gives it a try. Despite the slick studio sound, no one is going to mistake this for a Jackson Browne album. Zevon sings with a rough gravelly voice that gives the songs an edge and then there is his lyrical vision, which rivals Richard Thompson in its darkness, originality and toughness. There is really no song from that era remotely like "Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner." It is weird but not gratuitously weird like Frank Zappa or Alice Cooper, it is straight forward and realistic, at least as realistic as a song can be that is about a Norwegian mercenary in Africa who gets decapitated by a comrade at the behest of the C.I.A. and whose headless body goes on a vengeful killing spree around the world. There is also "Werewolves of London" which is probably Zevon's most famous song. It could have been a novelty song with its humor and lupine howling, but the intelligence and viciousness in the lyrics lift it to another level. "Excitable Boy" is a sarcastic song about a young psychopath. "Veracruz" is a serious song about the 1914 American occupation of that Mexican city written from the point of view of one of the defenders. "Lawyers, Guns and Money" is about a rich kid who gets into trouble with a Russian spy in Cuba and asks his father to bail him out. Of course not every song on here is so exotic and esoteric. "Accidentally Like A Martyr" is a poetic song about heartbreak and "Tenderness On the Block" depicts a young woman coming of age and discovering love. I don't really get "Nighttime In the Switching Yard" which is a funky song that borders on disco. It is the closest thing to a throwaway filler type song on the album although it does have a good beat and you can dance to it which is more than you can say for any James Taylor record. As much as I hated the era that this album came out of, I have to admit that if it was able to develop and nurture an artist of Zevon's stature it couldn't have been all bad. Recommended for Jackson Browne fans who wish he had a sense of humor.
British Lions
British Lions
RSO RS-1-3032
1978
I was given this record by a friend who was a big Mott The Hoople fan. She was paring down her collection and didn't want it anymore. I can see why, even though 3 of the members, Buffin, Overend Watts and Morgan Fisher, came from the Ian Hunter-era Mott line-up and a fourth, Ray Major, comes from the post-Hunter Mott, this doesn't sound much like Mott. Probably because the fifth guy, John Fiddler, wrote most of the songs and sings them. He came from a band called Medicine Head that I've never heard and judging from this I don't know that I really want to. On the picture on the inner sleeve the boys are all well-coiffed and made-up, looking like five lads on their way to a hairdressers convention, so I expected some glam-rock, but in fact this is mostly generic 70s hard rock. I have a bit of an appetite for that stuff but this is pretty marginal. Fiddler isn't much of a singer. He sounds like he's trying to be Lou Reed on "One More Chance To Run" and he imitates Ian Hunter on "International Heroes." Unfortunately he could be Ian Hunter himself and that wouldn't improve this album much. The two best songs come from outside the band, Garland Jeffrey's "Wild In the Street" and Kim Fowley's "International Heroes." "Fork Talking Man" rocks pretty nicely in a mundane sort of way but the lyrics are dreadful. "My Life's In Your Hands" has a nice power riff and reminds me a bit of Blue Oyster Cult. Fiddler's weak vocals and crummy lyrics drag down "Big Drift Away" which is a power ballad reminiscent of Bad Company. It could have been a decent song but it falls short and goes on way too long. "Booster" is my favorite of the group's originals, it even sounds like a Mott the Hoople song. I like the call and response vocals. Unfortunately the goodwill it generates in me is completely undone by the album's closing song, "Eat The Rich." As much as I approve of that sentiment, it is a really stupid song, even by hard rock standards. This is not an unpleasant record, it sounds sort of nice in the background, but it is instantly forgettable, I can hardly remember a song on it, minutes after it is over. I think the most interesting about it is that Terry Jones and Michael Palin of Monty Python are thanked in the sleeve notes. When the day comes when I have to pare down my record collection, there is a good chance that this record will be on the move again. Recommended for Mott the Hoople fans who dislike Ian Hunter.
