Landmark music for sure, and it is impossible to deny its successes, no matter what you have thought of the songs or the artist over the 20 years since this was released. There's the sales marks of course, the multi-millions of CD's, the records for the biggest-selling debut album and biggest-selling female album ever. But more importantly, it spoke to and for a generation of young people, especially women, in a way no-one had before. As Morissette sums it up in the strong essay included here, "..the true experience of being a young, sensitive, and brave person in a patriarchal world." And she kicked butt doing it.
Sporting a lively new remaster, the very familiar tunes are repackaged here with the aforementioned booklet essay, plus a second disc of pretty impressive previously-unreleased material. These are ten demos from that period, none of which have appeared before or became something else. All but one were written with her producer and co-conspirator Glen Ballard, and date from the very first song they wrote together to some weary works that came out after she got off the road from the exhausting tour for Jagged Little Pill.
Like the rest of her songs at that time, these are personal and cathartic numbers, where she examines how she's feeling, what she wants, what is of great concern. With Ballard involved, these demos are certainly not acoustic guitars and voice. These are pretty close to finished products, even including strings on one song. In effect, it's Jagged Little Pill 1.5.
Best tracks include The Bottom Line, that first song they wrote, in the first hour of meeting. At this point, Ballard was still contributing some lyrics, although by Jagged Little Pill. she had taken over all the words, while they shared the music composition. Superstar Wonderful Weirdos is a look at the freak show she had joined, able to stand outside and observe people's perceptions of her. No Avalon is another one with Ballard contributing lyrics, wondering if there's a heaven. King of Intimidation is another whack at jerks in the entertainment game, written after Jagged Little Pill, a good continuation of the theme. Death of Cinderella is a final goodbye to the pop princess we Canadians knew back in her dance days.
Here's the thing though; does anyone still listen to Jagged Little Pill? It was so ubiquitous, and so of its time, that it's not something you go back to, nor is it something new generations pick up on. Twenty years has gone by, and there doesn't seem to be a need for its heroic qualities anymore. Morissette broke down the barriers, and lots of women followed with lots of attitude. But it might be another few years before her songs find a fresh audience. The two-disc set is nicely priced at around $15, while a 4-CD box includes a live concert from the original album tour, and a reissue of the 2005 acoustic re-recording of the original album.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: DUANE ANDREWS - CONCEPTION BAY
Riffing on everything from Sweet Georgia Brown to Chopin is pretty daunting, but Andrews can handle just about anything, plus he makes it swing, and folds it into his unique Newfoundland Gypsy-jazz-guitar oeuvre. Here, fall-back favourites from Django sit happily beside traditional Newfoundland numbers, a clutch of originals, and Stravinsky's Firebird Lullaby.
In a career based on innovation, the new move for this album was making it all with a string quartet. While it seems obvious for the familiar melody of Chopin's Opus 64 No. 2, hearing it delicately, smoothly and quickly picked out on guitar is a testament to Andrews' vast talent. No spotlight-hogger, Andrews lets the strings bring a whole new appreciation to the charms of Let Me Fish Of Cape St. Mary's.
Known for previous albums with fiddler Dwayne Côté or guitarist Craig Young, as well as The Swinging Belles, once again Andrews shows he plays well with others. Catch him Nov. 28 in Saint John, N.B. at The Sanctuary, along with the Saint John String Quartet.
MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: LORI YATES - SWEETHEART OF THE VALLEY
Yates has had quite a career, and you can hear about some of the most interesting parts on this grand alt-country outing, a career highlight. It's her first since 2007's The Book Of Minerva, and a big reminder that she's one of the country's best singers and writers.
Out of the same Toronto cowpunk scene that coalesced around Handsome Ned. Blue Rodeo and Cowboy Junkies, Yates was lead singer for Rang Tango, and swept up to Nashville, Sony Music there looking (rightly) for the next big thing. The conservative town never likes rebels, and after a debut solo album, Yates was back in Canada for a couple of albums for Virgin in the '90's. Next came the sorta-supergroup Hey Stella!, with ace roots guitarist producer David Gavan Baxter, Prairie Oyster drummer Michelle Josef, and Blue Rodeo's Bazil Donovan for an album in the 2001's. She's also become an integral part of the powerful Hamilton music scene.
A gifted storyteller, Yates offers a mix of cautionary tales, life lessons and colourful people and places. Hamilton's full of them you know, and several show up in Corktown, a number about the legendary tavern (Canada's oldest), where you have to prove yourself, something Yates certainly did. Trouble In The Country is about the situation Yates found herself in arriving in Nashville, especially a run-in with the famous producer Billy Sherrill.
Oh, back to Hey Stella!, the band got back together for this one, and they sparkle throughout, with tasty licks from Baxter and a solid country groove to match Yates' natural twang. There's still lots of the punk in her as well. She might be a sweetheart, but she'll kick your ass too. It's a kick-ass record in fact.
Monday, November 23, 2015
MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: CHRIS ISAAK - FIRST COMES THE NIGHT
Isaak does one thing, but he does it very well. Apart from his last album, Beyond the Sun, a tribute to Sun Records, he makes love-in-trouble songs centered around his Orbison/Elvis pipes. When he does branch out, it's not far, usually with rockabilly numbers with more lighthearted lyrics. Somehow over a 13-album career, he's managed to keep a spark despite the constant theme, mostly by always writing and singing them well.
There are several highlight songs here, including the title cut, a blue (as in bayou) break-up ballad, with a solid lyric ('First comes the heartache darling, it ain't always gonna hurt this way'). Dry Your Eyes is a Latin lover come-on, a little marimba and a little heavy breathing. Don't Break My Heart rocks it up a bit more, a desperate plea from a love-sick fool.
Isaak's still careful not to give us too much of a good thing over the whole album, and the novelty numbers deliver quality as well. The rockabilly tune Down In Flames is a cheery-sounding number about dying spectacularly, burning out before fading away: 'James Dean bought it on a highway, Marilyn found it in a pill/Elvis died, or did he? They're looking for him still.' Insects is weird, in a compelling way: 'Bad ideas are like insects on the windshield of my mine.' I always like forward to an Isaak album; I don't expect big changes, but it's never a let-down either.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: VAN MORRISON - ASTRAL WEEKS, HIS BAND AND THE STREET CHOIR
Although these aren't the full-bore packages afforded the reissue of Moondance, the album issued between these two, they are certainly mightily welcome new versions of these classics. Moondance was given a four-disc-plus-DVD set, but that meant take after take of variations, never the most rewarding listening experience. This time, they go for less is more, with just a handful of alternate takes from the sessions as bonus cuts, on single disc packages.
The discs are giving spiffy new liner notes, again nothing over-the-top, just a good essay explaining the sessions, and the historical context. The bonus cuts are all familiar, and at the most present some slightly different backing, or versions on Street Choir before strings. The biggest highlight would be the take of Slim Slow Slider that restores the original ending rather than the fast fade-out of the cut preferred by producer Lewis Merenstein for its discomforting ending to the album. Again, we're not talking major new finds here.
So what's the big deal? Sound, my friends. Never have these gems, these classics, sounded better, and for fans of Astral Weeks especially, that is tremendous news. The instruments sound so clear and separated now, with so much presence to each one. You can focus in on every sound, let your ears concentrate on the flute as it enters, pick out the guitar licks of Jay Berliner, follow along with Richard Davis' bass as he leads the band forward, none of them really familiar with Morrison or his tunes before these sessions. There were miles and miles of column-inches written over the years by critics enthralled by the jazz-blues-Celtic-pop fusion Morrison created, and you'll constantly find this album in the top-ten-ever lists, so don't go without.
I'm actually a bigger fan of Moondance and His Band and the Street Choir, but that's because I simply like concise, arranged music more, no biggie. After the huge success of Moondance, Morrison got right back on the horse and did a fun album, nothing too intense on the surface but full of brilliance just the same. It's the home of Domino after all, and the hit Blue Money too. If this was Morrison having a lark with the group, he showed it could be serious fun too. Also here are some of his best R'n'B workouts, including Give Me A Kiss and I've Been Working, the latter becoming a powerhouse life track as heard on 1974's epic It's Too Late To Stop Now concert album.
I've never noticed this before, but when I heard Crazy Face on the album this time, with all its odd character names, and then thought about the title "and the Street Choir", I put two and two together, and came up with Springsteen, a huge fan, well-influenced by this period of Morrison's work. His early songs had characters such as Crazy Davey and such. Just sayin'. Anyway, time for an upgrade on both, I'm not steering you wrong, money well spent.
Friday, November 20, 2015
MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: GEORGIE FAME - THE WHOLE WORLD'S SHAKING COMPLETE RECORDINGS 1963-1966
Not everybody on the scene in England in the '60's made it over the ocean in the British Invasion. For every Gerry and the Pacemakers that did top the charts and come over to tour, back in Blighty there was a Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich that couldn't make the journey. Considering the quality of their hits such as Zabadak!, maybe we didn't need them all landing on these shores.
We could have used more Georgie Fame though. One of the key players of Swingin' London, Fame scored just two well-known cuts this side of the ocean, his ultra-hip take on Yeh, Yeh in 1964, and the surprise novelty hit The Ballad of Bonnie & Clyde from 1967. But there's a treasure trove of music in between, as featured on this handsome box set.
It's comprised of five CD's, including the four albums Fame made during this four-year span, plus a fifth of rare cuts, demos and out-takes. Plus, each original album is nearly doubled in size (disc one is more than doubled) by the addition of single and E.P. cuts, alternates and the like. It's meant to be a collector's package, with a hard-bound book, a large poster and several postcards included as well.
Fame's first album showcased what he and the band did well, entertain the club-goers each night with high-energy R 'n' B, centered around Fame's organ playing. He'd picked up on the Hammond organ sound of Booker T and the MG's from U.S. servicemen who used to drop by his gigs and play him records they'd brought from home. Fame developed his own take on cool jazz, soul and blues, leading a tight band complete with horns. The album Rhythm and Blues at The Flamingo sees the band in full, locked-in groove, making the party happen with James Brown and Motown cuts, working in a little Mose Allison, and playing favourites like Let The Good Times Roll. You can hear the fans having a ball, and you can picture Austin Powers strolling in, shouting 'Ya baby.' The plentiful bonus cuts here include several sessions for the BBC, more good-time numbers, and a rare bit of history, as Long John Baldry joins the group to take the vocals on You're Breaking My Heart.
Disc two is the best of the bunch. Fame had by this time developed his own sound, relying less on well-known artists and more on his own blend of influences. There were still lots of well-known covers on the album Fame At Last, including Marvin Gaye's Pride and Joy, Gimme That Wine by Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, and his own version of Green Onions, but the mix of all these influences combined with the freedom of London's music scene at the time really gives his music energy. But oh, those bonus tracks, that takes his disc over the top. First, you get Yeh, Yeh, a non-album single track, always a killer tune. And it's the home to quite an amazing musical moment. Fame was one of the very first artists to pick up on a new sound coming out of Jamaica. Ska music was popular in the Jamaican areas of London, and Fame recording an EP called Rhythm & Blue-beat, adding yet another element to his set. Hearing him incorporate the classic inverted rhythm into his energetic style, so far ahead of the rest of his peers, is pretty mind-blowing now, one of those things I wish I'd known about 30 years ago.
Disc three saw Fame head a little more in the hits direction, with a greater emphasis on radio-friendly, concise songs, and less of the R 'n' B style. The album was called Sweet Things, the fare was along that line, with a version of My Girl, a ballad in Funny How Time Slips Away, and a cover of Dobie Gray's The In Crowd. The hoped-for follow-up smash to Yeh, Yeh didn't happen, but there were decent-sized hits with In The Meantime, Like We Used To Be and Something, all of which are featured in the bonus tracks here.
Disc four was a big departure for an album called Sound Venture. Here Fame was paired up with The Harry South Big Band, and took on the role of crooner. It's not his crowning achievement. Fame was a singer who had a lot of feel, but not a great tone or range. The rougher the music got, the better, but here he's a little out of his comfort zone, or at least ours. Really, the whole thing was a mis-fire, as the band is about a decade behind the times, or perhaps 40 years too early; but Fame did not become the Buble of the day. The bonus cuts are better because we're back to regular fare, including the British #1 Get Away, and the sizable hit version of Bobbie Hebb's Sunny.
Disc five is a relief from the big band sound, as we go to the rare cuts collection. It features a mix of pretty much all the sounds heard in the other sets, on radio sessions, some alternate takes, and a few that didn't sneak out along the way. Best is another of the ska tracks, Tan Tan's Tune, while the awfully racist Black Head Chinaman would be good if it wasn't ...you know. But I told you it felt like Austin Powers was in the room. For those who like to make discoveries and don't mind laying out a few bucks, this is a rewarding addition to the wall o' sound.
We could have used more Georgie Fame though. One of the key players of Swingin' London, Fame scored just two well-known cuts this side of the ocean, his ultra-hip take on Yeh, Yeh in 1964, and the surprise novelty hit The Ballad of Bonnie & Clyde from 1967. But there's a treasure trove of music in between, as featured on this handsome box set.
It's comprised of five CD's, including the four albums Fame made during this four-year span, plus a fifth of rare cuts, demos and out-takes. Plus, each original album is nearly doubled in size (disc one is more than doubled) by the addition of single and E.P. cuts, alternates and the like. It's meant to be a collector's package, with a hard-bound book, a large poster and several postcards included as well.
Fame's first album showcased what he and the band did well, entertain the club-goers each night with high-energy R 'n' B, centered around Fame's organ playing. He'd picked up on the Hammond organ sound of Booker T and the MG's from U.S. servicemen who used to drop by his gigs and play him records they'd brought from home. Fame developed his own take on cool jazz, soul and blues, leading a tight band complete with horns. The album Rhythm and Blues at The Flamingo sees the band in full, locked-in groove, making the party happen with James Brown and Motown cuts, working in a little Mose Allison, and playing favourites like Let The Good Times Roll. You can hear the fans having a ball, and you can picture Austin Powers strolling in, shouting 'Ya baby.' The plentiful bonus cuts here include several sessions for the BBC, more good-time numbers, and a rare bit of history, as Long John Baldry joins the group to take the vocals on You're Breaking My Heart.
Disc two is the best of the bunch. Fame had by this time developed his own sound, relying less on well-known artists and more on his own blend of influences. There were still lots of well-known covers on the album Fame At Last, including Marvin Gaye's Pride and Joy, Gimme That Wine by Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, and his own version of Green Onions, but the mix of all these influences combined with the freedom of London's music scene at the time really gives his music energy. But oh, those bonus tracks, that takes his disc over the top. First, you get Yeh, Yeh, a non-album single track, always a killer tune. And it's the home to quite an amazing musical moment. Fame was one of the very first artists to pick up on a new sound coming out of Jamaica. Ska music was popular in the Jamaican areas of London, and Fame recording an EP called Rhythm & Blue-beat, adding yet another element to his set. Hearing him incorporate the classic inverted rhythm into his energetic style, so far ahead of the rest of his peers, is pretty mind-blowing now, one of those things I wish I'd known about 30 years ago.
Disc three saw Fame head a little more in the hits direction, with a greater emphasis on radio-friendly, concise songs, and less of the R 'n' B style. The album was called Sweet Things, the fare was along that line, with a version of My Girl, a ballad in Funny How Time Slips Away, and a cover of Dobie Gray's The In Crowd. The hoped-for follow-up smash to Yeh, Yeh didn't happen, but there were decent-sized hits with In The Meantime, Like We Used To Be and Something, all of which are featured in the bonus tracks here.
Disc four was a big departure for an album called Sound Venture. Here Fame was paired up with The Harry South Big Band, and took on the role of crooner. It's not his crowning achievement. Fame was a singer who had a lot of feel, but not a great tone or range. The rougher the music got, the better, but here he's a little out of his comfort zone, or at least ours. Really, the whole thing was a mis-fire, as the band is about a decade behind the times, or perhaps 40 years too early; but Fame did not become the Buble of the day. The bonus cuts are better because we're back to regular fare, including the British #1 Get Away, and the sizable hit version of Bobbie Hebb's Sunny.
Disc five is a relief from the big band sound, as we go to the rare cuts collection. It features a mix of pretty much all the sounds heard in the other sets, on radio sessions, some alternate takes, and a few that didn't sneak out along the way. Best is another of the ska tracks, Tan Tan's Tune, while the awfully racist Black Head Chinaman would be good if it wasn't ...you know. But I told you it felt like Austin Powers was in the room. For those who like to make discoveries and don't mind laying out a few bucks, this is a rewarding addition to the wall o' sound.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL (11-disc DVD set)
This is an expanded boxed set of DVD's from the iconic '70's music show, now coming in at a whopping 11 discs. Midnight Special was hugely important at a pre-MTV time when you could barely find music on television. Don Kirshner's Rock Concert had the harder stuff, Saturday Night Live would give you two songs once a week by somebody cool, and Midnight Special was Top 40.
Considering the late-night time slot, they did play it safe and often, lame. With bland hosts such as Helen Reddy and the Captain & Tennille, plus the horrifically bad links taped by Wolfman Jack, you could go entire shows without leaving the middle of the road. It's actually quite hilarious how bad it can be, as you watch Barry Manilow trying to bust a move on It's A Miracle (worst.dancer.ever.), and if you want to shock your kids, show them the sad scene of Rick Dees and a cast of musicians with no self-respect miming to Disco Duck.
But here's the flip-side of '70's TV: on the same disc, you can also find a one-time-only, historic performance featuring host George Benson, at the time the respected jazz guitarist had mellowed out for the Top 40 hit Breezin'. Instead of bringing in the usual guests that week, it was a superstar jam session, no lip-sync, no backing tracks, all live, with Carlos Santana, Tom Scott, Dr. John, Etta James and, of all people, the no-nonsense Van Morrison. Seeing this bunch all on stage for Moondance is worth wading through the KC and the Sunshine Band and Village People moments.
Great costumes though; from Labelle's space suits to Jim Croce's 'stash, the era was all about big. No band performed without some member shirtless. The knitted sling/halter thing that Aretha Franklin was wearing was outrageous and frankly distracting, but what a performance.
And so it goes, from incredible to okay to laughingly bad. On the big, big plus side, you get The Kinks, Steely Dan, Tom Petty, and a brilliant Love Train from the O'Jays. You'll zone out through REO Speedwagon, and find yourself debating the merits of John Denver.
This expanded set also adds a disc of stand-up comedy, a very different beast in those days, when comics where being treated like rock stars, and still on tour with them too. Maybe its just generational, but I'll stack this line-up against today's supposed funny people: Richard Pryor, Steve Martin, Robert Klein, Andy Kaufman, George Carlin, the young Billy Crystal, vets Flip Wilson and Redd Foxx, and even Jimmie J.J. Walker. Normally I'm just about the music, but this is welcome.
The major problem with the set is the hugely-annoying way they have compiled the clips. They create mini-versions of shows, featuring the opening and closing credits, and host links between each song, and then three or four cuts, before moving on to the next mini-show. So you get the Midnight Special theme everytime, the lameness of Reddy or Wolfman every time, the credits for technicians every time, all of which break up the enjoyment and quite simply waste everyone's time. Oh, to be allowed to edit all this out, and add in more great songs, but it's probably all been done for financial reasons, filling out the discs with free stuff, rather than having to pay royalties for more songs. But over 11 discs, there is a ton of excellent viewing, and if you have a sense of humour about certain acts, it's even better.
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