Twelve Albums from the 50s through the 80s

Last week I highlighted eleven albums from the past thirty years that have grabbed my attention as of late. Below I’ve listed an additional twelve albums in reverse chronological order from the 50s through the 80s that have inspired me recently. Next week I’ll discuss new musical artists and their struggle to find an audience. Stay tuned.

Dire Straits – Love Over Gold (1982).  Rewinding almost a decade from last week’s blog, this release was a regretful omission from my original list a few years ago. One of my all-time favorites. I’ll never forget camping up in Shawano, Wisconsin and awaking to the live version of “Telegraph Road” from the live Alchemy album (that is sadly unavailable on Spotify). It’s such a moody and moving piece, rivaled perhaps by the title track and “Private Investigations.” Wonderful.

Missing Persons – Spring Sessions M (1982).  Back when I was a snotty little teenager, I played in a band called The Grab, and we did the song “Walking in LA” by Missing Persons. Something prompted me to listen to the whole album a few years ago, and my, oh my, what a powerhouse of a record, led by the then-husband/wife duo of Dale and drummer extraordinaire Terry Bozzio. The album still sounds fresh and present, not of its time despite the synths. This might have something to the superb drums – the work of Terry on “U.S. Drag” is ridiculous.  In addition to “Walking in LA,” you probably know “Words,” “Windows,” and “Destination Unknown.” Once of those bands that never again reached the heights of their debut LP.

Donald Fagen – The Nightfly (1982).  Make it a trifecta from 1982!  Another album I overlooked in my top albums blogs, this is such a fun, positive and sophisticated album, in contrast to the ofttimes cynical Steely Dan. Not a bad cut on it. I love the comedic elements of the title track and the tight harmonies of “Walk Between Raindrops” and “Ruby.”

Jackson Browne – Hold Out (1980).  I’ve already listed Browne’s 2014 masterpiece Standing in the Breach as one of my favorite albums, but this release from when I was 12 years old put him on the map for me, and it hangs together oh so well, with a great combination of rockers along with some heart-felt numbers. Friends of mine who are a bit older prefer Jackson’s earlier records, but for me those releases have amazing songs along with some real clunkers. Hold Out holds up! If you want an example of horrific rock journalism, read the original Rolling Stone review of this release. It’s a mess.

Cheap Trick – Dream Police (1979).  Another one of those gems from the greatest year in music, I eliminated this from my original list of desert albums because of one song, “I Know What I Want,” but that was silly. The album is amazing! For me it’s one of the two best power-pop albums ever released, along with Off Broadway’s On.  I have some friends for whom “Gonna Raise Hell” doesn’t work, but I could probably put that song on repeat for several hours before pressing pause. Marvelous.

Gerry Rafferty – City to City (1978).  My son became familiar with “Baker Street” through a movie or game or something, and he would quiz me on the singer’s name, because, well, my mind is sometimes a jumbled mess of pop culture references and I can’t always keep things straight. But since then I dived into Rafferty’s City to City and I no longer have that problem. My favorite track – one that I have a faint recollection hearing in my childhood – is “Home and Dry,” without a doubt among my top 100 songs of all-time, but the whole album is strong. Rafferty has one of those voices that is instantly recognizable, but after a few follow-up albums, he disappeared from the charts.

Procol Harum – Grand Hotel (1973).  I was told that their 1969 release, Salty Dog, was the bee’s knees, but this one wins the prize for me. Full of bombast that might turn some people off, I love the complex chord changes and soaring melodies of the title track, “TV Caesar,” and “A Rum Tale,” a lover’s lament if ever there was one. And there’s some humor here too with “A Souvenir of London,” which was banned from the radio at the time!

Stevie Wonder – Innervisions (1973).  Another release from ’73 (a darn-good year for music – Quadrophenia, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Selling England by the Pound, Dark Side of the Moon, Houses of the Holy, Tales from Topographic Oceans, Band on the Run, etc.), I listened to this album in the car a few months ago, and damn, it’s nearly perfect, with Wonder doing the “wonderful” and handling virtually every instrument and vocal on the album. The funky tunes are balanced out nicely with the beautiful “All In Love Is Fair,” and “Visions,” a heartbreaking wish for a better world that seems especially current. The opening of “Living for the City” gives me chills. Perfect.

Rod Stewart – Every Picture Tells a Story (1971).  I originally went back and forth on this one, but there’s simply no denying that this is a stupendous effort from Stewart. The music is rough and raw and sloppy, the downbeats often played by three instruments at three different times, but damn, the energy the band (basically The Faces) exudes is infectious. One of those country-tinged efforts that I often eschew, but this one hits the mark for me, with wisely-chosen covers balancing out the marvelous “Mandolin Rain,” Maggie May,” and – among my favorites ever – the inimitable title track.

Emitt Rhodes – Emitt Rhodes (1970).  Chalk another one up for Spotify. While listening to Utopia’s self-titled 1982 release (which has already made by best-of list), the streaming service’s algorithm played the song “Somebody Made For Me” and my ears pricked up. Rhodes is another one of those artists like Nick Drake and Rodriquez who didn’t make the splash he deserved and got royally screwed by the record company. This is a power-pop masterpiece, with every instrument and vocal performed by the man himself. There’s a nice 2009 documentary about Rhodes called The One Man Beatles, and after a 43 year hiatus he managed to put out an album in 2016 before dying in 2020.  Here’s a nice summary of another record collector’s discovery of this fantastic musician. Isn’t it cool that my knowledge of Utopia led to Emitt Rhodes who then led to The Red Button (mentioned in last week’s blog). The musical rabbit holes you can go down are endless, especially since the advent of streaming services.

The Zombies – Odessey & Oracle (1968).  Yeah, I apparently was the only person on the planet who had never heard of this album despite it being listed as one of the best on most rock album retrospectives.  I came upon the 2008 40th anniversary live concert of this album on Spotify and actually like it better than the original release. The transition from “Brief Candles” to “Hung up on a Dream” makes to cry every time. I don’t know why, but the crowd reaction helps, and the chord progression of the latter tune is perfect, surprising the listener with the six-major chord after what starts as a very basic sequence. I’ve since discovered that my daughter sometimes plays “This Will Be Our Year” for her psych patients as a music therapist. Nice! Odessey & Oracle is the first new-pressing album I purchased since 1986! I’ve purchased quite a few more since then.  Once you break the seal, you’re in trouble.

Wild Bill Davison – Pretty Wild (1956).  This one is courtesy of my dad, who cleared out a bunch of his vinyl a half a decade ago or so, and I inherited a couple of dozen jazz records, some of which I’d neglected to listen to until recently. This recording is one of those lilting listens that calms my nagging nerves, neither calling too much attention to itself nor putting me to sleep. I don’t know if this is considered great jazz, but the combo of strings and Davison’s pure tone hits the spot.

So there you are! Twenty-three albums (between last week and this week) that have caught my attention over the past three years. Some of it old and familiar, much of it old and oddly unfamiliar to me, and a couple of newer releases.

There are some people who argue that there isn’t any good music today, to which I cry, bullshit. It’s harder to find good music on the radio than ever before, but there is so much good music coming out today it’s overwhelming. I’ll write about new music and how it’s harder and harder for today’s artists to find an audience in next week’s blog.

The Completion of my New Album, "The Palisades"

Album?  Tape?  CD?  I guess none of the above, but despite not actually making a physical product and putting it up for free on my website, I still call the project I began last October an "album." After months of demo recording and distribution of arrangements, a day in the studio to record drums and bass, followed by months of recording guitar, keys, vocals, clarinet, French horn, tuba and violin, and then a few months of mixing and mastering, The Palisades is complete.

The goal was to record an album that my wife Alice would like from start to finish. On that note, I've already succeeded. If anyone else likes it, well that would be nice, too!

Seriously, I'm happy with the result, and I'm thrilled with all the musicians who performed on the album and many others who helped with recording, equipment, or just lending an ear.

I'll highlight all eleven songs over the next several weeks. In the meantime, you can stream and/or download the album, plus check out lyrics and how the whole thing came together. Let me know what you think.

This is my ninth album, and I'm not finished yet. I think the next one is going to be a balls-to-wall rock and roller, but I'll have to see if I've got enough anger in me to pull it off. Ask me on November 9th!

James Taylor in Milwaukee

At sixty-six, James Taylor has no doubt uttered the same song introductions and comebacks to yelling fans hundreds of times, but on Tuesday night at the Bradley Center in Milwaukee, Taylor made it sound  as if he was bantering with the audience for the first time, using the same easygoing delivery that he employs with his music: endearing, charming, playful and never over the top.  When one fan yelled out, “I love you!” Taylor paused, looked out and said dryly, “I’m beginning to have feelings for you too.  This is all so sudden.”  After two sets totaling almost two and a half hours, one got the sense that fans were wowed as much by Taylor’s remarks between songs as they were by his music and all-star cast.

Taylor's easy-going nature led a friend of mine to ask during intermission: "Does he ever rock out?”

Um…no.  Like the Jackson Browne concert I saw last month in Chicago, Taylor’s version of rock is something more subdued, the kind of rock one might prefer on a rainy Sunday morning.  But whereas Browne’s lyrics are laced in sorrowful, melancholy tones, Taylor’s ooze with optimism, from the heartfelt expressions of love in his beautiful new song, “You and I Again,” to the overly saccharin (for my tastes) “Only One” and “Shower the People.”  Where Taylor really shines is in songs that offer just a hint of reverence or longing.   Taylor playfully described “Country Road” and “Carolina in My Mind” – mainstays in his touring repertoire – as "hippy, tree-hugger bullshit," but these songs are nothing if not an ode to nature filtered through the eyes of Taylor’s childhood in North Carolina where the landscape colored his world.  It’s not just a celebration of nature; there’s a tinge of something beautiful lost along the way.

Taylor offered a few surprises, including three new songs as well as deeper cuts such as “Lo and Behold” from 1970’s Sweet Baby James, “Millworker” from the failed Broadway musical Working, and “One More Go Round,” a tune from 1991’s New Moon Shine that he introduced by stressing that while the groove is good, the lyrics are somewhat subpar.  As with most of Taylor’s concerts, too much of his set list remains constant year after year.  He played the usual four songs from his debut album (plus one extra), plus another four or five mainstays, and it would have been nice had he performed a few more songs from lesser-known albums.

Like Jackson Browne and Paul Simon, Taylor consistently assembles a fantastic band.  Even the simplest of tunes can appear interesting and complex when watching drummer Steve Gadd, guitarist Michael Landau and bassist Jimmy Johnson execute their craft.  The sound was also excellent, though at the booming Bradley Center, I could hear another James Taylor Band playing half a second after the real live band on stage as the sound bounced off the back of the arena.  Since only the first level of the arena was used, it would have made more sense to play at the underutilized Milwaukee Theater.

For the final two songs, Taylor sported a personalized Brewers jersey that a fan had offered him during his first encore.  It was a nice touch, as was Taylor's thank you to the audience for allowing him to continue to play music for all these year.  He’s clearly a man who’s still in love with performing, and luckily his voice has remained strong.  Judging from last evening’s concert, I imagine there will be many more tours in Taylor before he decides to call it a day.

Review: Jackson Browne in Chicago

At sixty-six, Jackson Browne could easily phone it in and play concert after concert of the certified hits that came with regularity during the first decade and a half of his 40-plus year career, but on Tuesday night at the Chicago Theater he went a different route, playing deep cuts and new material along with a few crowd-pleasers for a balanced and effective show. 

Beginning with 1996’s “Barricades of Heaven,” 1972’s “Looking into You,” and two songs from his new album Standing in the Breach, it was apparent that this wasn’t going to be a greatest hits show, and the evening was all the more rewarding because of it.  Browne stitched his new material seamlessly with his older tunes, which you could take one of two ways I suppose: 1) his new material is as strong as his old material; or 2) his new material explores the same territory he’s been exploring for decades.  It’s probably a little of both, but when you have an absolutely stellar band with equally stellar sound backing you up, and you’re reciting lyrics like: The seeds of tragedy are there/In what we feel we have the right to bear… well, I’ll take a little familiarity with my new Jackson Browne.  All told, he performed seven songs from his new album.  If you had asked me beforehand if that was a recipe for a successful evening, I would have demurred, but to my ears many of the new tunes were as strong as the old ones.

After being assaulted at several arena shows lately, I was thrilled to be able to hear every instrument on stage without reaching for the earplugs, and I spent much of the evening admiring the guitar work of Val McCallum and Greg Leisz (who played dobro, guitar and lap steel), both absolute monsters at their instruments, and one got the feeling that Jackson Browne had as much fun watching these guys display their craft as he did singing his compositions. 

Alternating between guitar and piano throughout the evening, Browne sported an all-black outfit (as did the rest of the band), and the stage lighting bathed the musicians in shades of violet, with occasional splashes of color to enhance various songs, most notably the desert shades of “Leaving Winslow,” a song Browne introduced with a childhood memory of playing on a trestle bridge with his buddies and flattening pennies on the railway.

Early in the second set, Browne asked, “What would you like to hear?” and after a deluge of requests, he answered, “Yeah, I thought so.  But after that what do you want to hear?”  But as far as I could see, the request resulted in only one audible, the 1980’s hit “In the Shape of a Heart,” and the rest of the evening proceeded much as his previous concerts in Philadelphia and New York. 

I knew I could leave a happy man after Browne performed 1993’s “I’m Alive,” albeit a whole tone lower than his studio recording.  It became apparent during the show that keys had been adjusted to accommodate Brown’s aging voice, but that said, his signature mellow tone still sounded excellent, and I got the feeling that he could have hit the high notes consistently had he been forced to.  If there was one complaint about the evening, it’s that the band played on a similar energy level throughout with little in the way of dynamics; even some of the rockers came off sounding country.  But this is a minor quibble, and for the last selections of the concert, Browne broke into crowd favorites and rocked a bit with “Doctor My Eyes,” “The Pretender,” “Running on Empty” and “Take it Easy.”

As I was buying junk food at Walgreens after the show, a woman behind me said to her boyfriend, “I was hoping for ‘Late for the Sky.’”  I was too, but I give Browne a lot of credit for playing so much new music that was actually worth playing and worth hearing.  He continues to sing about the stuff that matters, from the Haiti earthquake, to politics, to the Gulf oil spill.  We need guys like Browne to continue to fight the good fight and to be willing to put new music at the forefront.  I'll take that over a greatest hits show any day.