Curation is an art in itself, and every song deserves to be placed on an album in a spot that lets it shine its' brightest. Ultimate Albums, all larger than the sum of their parts, posted monthly!
Monday, March 17, 2025
Led Zeppelin - Coda (1979)
Friday, January 24, 2025
Bob Dylan's Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid (1973) - An Appreciation
There's something big coming up in February but it won't be ready before the end of the month, so I'm putting out a little stopgap post to tide you famished viewers over. There was a brief time a couple of years back when I was thinking of becoming a music reviewer; in hindsight I'm very glad I didn't, but this was the only review I ever completed. I submitted it to a friend's magazine, but it was a punk magazine so didn't make it in, and it's just sat on my computer ever since, needing a home. Now it has one. It was written for the album's 50th anniversary in mid-July 2023; I remember going on walks that summer, thinking of ideas to put down, pretty ways to word things, and so on. At the time I hadn't seen the film which the album soundtracks, but I did get around to watching it last fall. It was a fairly mediocre and particularly violent Western, of which this soundtrack and Dylan's occasional and awkward performances were the most interesting parts. My favourite scene was where Dylan read the ingredients on food cans as a shootout took place. What a showcase of his Nobel Prize-winning poetic abilities. The album remains one of my favourites of his, and I hope that the writing communicates my affection for it. The review below remains largely, but not entirely, unchanged:
Rustic Beauty
It’s clear throughout his career
that Bob Dylan liked the western motif, judging by his inclusion of the occasional cowboy song certain albums unrelated to the topic, such as Blood On The Tracks (1975). In the case of this 1973 soundtrack LP, the chance to make a
full record on the topic allowed Dylan to create a whole world, an aural
experience like none other that I’ve ever encountered. A soundtrack album is
the perfect medium to express the feelings of cinematic vastness that are
essential to transporting the listener into this cowboy world, and this is
accomplished exceptionally well in the opening instrumental, “Main Title Theme (Billy).” An
instrumental with a melody to die for and gorgeous, emotive guitar playing,
this is one of my favourite Dylan songs. The emptiness of the frontier and
the loneliness that comes with it really connect with me here, even causing me to tear up a bit when I put it on. Booker T. Jones’ bass work really
shines on this one, and the star-studded cast of musicians on the album also
include session drummer Jim Keltner and Byrds mastermind Jim McGuinn, who supply
some excellent drums and guitar, respectively, on other tracks. There’s a real
confidence in the playing across the record, showing that the masters are at work.
“Cantina Theme (Workin’ for the Law)” is next. Ross Kunkel’s bongos add a hint of darkness to the mix, which, when combined with the repetition of the main melody played on acoustic guitar, create the tension reminiscent of a sheriff hunting a criminal. One aspect of the album that I would criticize is that there are a large number of sudden, unnatural fade-outs, including on this song here. The third song, “Billy 1,” begins after a long and excellent harmonica introduction. Dylan’s emotionally searing voice comes in with full force, giving me chill after chill with each new line. The final one, “Billy, you’re so far away from home,” is a beautifully simple way to put the feeling of expansive wilderness evoked by the music. If anybody needs convincing that Dylan was a good singer, show them “Billy 1.” He uses his voice masterfully on that song and across the album in general. The next instrumental, “Bunkhouse Theme,” is a laid-back piece which I picture as being set in an area shaded from the searing noonday sun, making for a perfect balance after the prior song. Wordless vocals appear on “River Theme,” evoking to me the cool breeze one feels when standing near a large river in a canyon. A sort of spiritual peace comes across, a bit of a haven from the more emotionally powerful songs, ending the first side of the record beautifully.
“Turkey Chase” gets things running again at a faster pace, and the flow of the fiddle gives a sense of the twisting and turning path an animal runs through bushes and grass. It's a real hoedown. The big single “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door," which follows, is of course a masterpiece, with luscious backing vocals and another sudden fade-out. All his lyrics on the LP come across as metaphors for greater events; they express feelings obviously felt outside of the Wild West, and this is especially true of this song. “Final Theme” is the last instrumental and repeats some familiar motifs from earlier in the tracklist. The use of a flute is excellent, sounding like somebody leaving Earth for heaven (as sung about in the previous song). It’s just gorgeous, rustic, simple beauty. The last tracks offer variations of “Billy 1,” featuring some different lyrics and vibes between them. “Billy 4” features more yearning in Dylan’s effortless singing. One verse in particular always gets me: “They say that Pat Garrett’s got your number/So sleep with one eye open, when you wonder/If every little sound just might be thunder/Thunder from the barrel of his gun.” These lyrics, and others on the song, dig to my very core, as they create such powerful and vivid imagery, with understated but excellent wordplay and unexpected lyrical twists to boot. On “Billy 7” he sounds tired and somewhat hopeless with his voice low and gravelly, making for a fitting close to a lovely record.
Despite being a mostly instrumental soundtrack to a cowboy flick, this is one of my favourite albums by Bob Dylan. He creates an entire world and sucks the listener into it, making it an immersive and introspective listen, which I hope that you enjoy as much as I do.
Thursday, December 26, 2024
The Velvet Underground - Rock And Roll (1969)
Like "Sunday Morning" and "Candy Says" (and arguably "White Light/White Heat") before it, "Stephanie Says" lulls the listener into something of a false sense of security as they begin the musical journey ahead (although the difference is not nearly as severe as on the group's previous albums). Indeed, after a soft melodic introduction on guitar, a celesta is added that's reminiscent of the one that opens "Sunday Morning" on their debut record. Recorded and mixed in early '68 to be the A-side a single that didn't get released, this song's original mix eventually came to be released on the 45th Anniversary reissue of the Velvet Underground's second album (and the first I got to know very well) White Light/White Heat. It's one of the five songs on this album that feature John Cale prior to his firing from the group (he's here on backing vocals, celesta, and his signature viola). The lyrics are somewhat cryptic, but I interpret them as discussing the distance between Stephanie and those in her life (the lyrics say she's the door instead of the room; that she is, or is in Alaska [which sits geographically apart from the main 48 US states]; that she's not afraid to die because she has little to lose; and so on). But that's just my reading of it; I invite you, dear reader, to interpret them for yourself. Also, as their previous album starts with "Candy Says," opening this one with "Stephanie Says" makes for some conceptual continuity of sorts. Rock And Roll's first LP side is actually bookended with "says" songs. bandleader (and early trans chaser) Lou Reed rerecorded a number of songs on this album during his far more successful solo career, and this one was reworked into "Caroline Says I" and "II" on his miserable masterpiece Berlin (1973).
Anyhow, after that song fades to silence, a voice pops up saying "here we go, rolling on one," which is followed by some guitar licks. Then "Foggy Notion" kicks in, the six and a half-minute rocker that really gets this album up and running. It's featured here in its' original 1969 stereo mix, taken from The Velvet Underground 45th Anniversary boxed set. Lead singer, guitarist, and songwriter Lou Reed, who in this number has both a foggy notion and his calamine lotion, sings with sass when he's not taking solos over rythm guitarist Sterlin Morrison. The interplay between their two guitars is a central aspect of this album, something that the clarity of this album's mixes (compared to those of some of their earlier, lower-fidelity albums) helps to highlight. "Foggy Notion" also makes clear the direction the band is taking on this LP. While on The Velvet Underground the band softened their sound and made it really up-close and personal, and on 1970's Loaded (i.e., with hits) they went full commercial pop/rock despite a compromised band line-up, Rock And Roll finds them smack in the middle of that shift: drummer Mo Tucker (who has a simple and influential arms-only style) had not yet gone on maternity leave, but the songs are more commercial than before—the Velvet Underground play rock and roll. The tunes are, maybe as a result, more fun and less serious than ever before. It might be going too far, but I believe that had this double album been released in 1969, it could've been a big seller—maybe even their biggest. It's certainly the most commercial thing they did prior to Loaded the next year. But I digress.
Continuing onward, the listener arrives at "She's My Best Friend," one of the catchiest songs on the album, sung with the softer voice of multi-instrumentalist Doug Yule (who replaced John Cale). Reed, though, redid this one himself on his album Coney Island Baby (1975). Tucker's yells during the outro are fun. This one is also a '69 mix, as made evident by that good old vacuum tube-born vocal distortion. After it comes "Andy's Chest," another '69-mixed track with some interesting and silly lyrics along with a short, delectable guitar solo that ends quite abruptly. Evidence of Lou Reed's B.A. in English and his resulting mastery of the language comes with the lines, "'cause you know what they say about honey bears/when you shave off all their baby hair/you have a hairy-minded pink bare bear." This one was also rerecorded by Reed, on his breakthrough David Bowie-produced classic Transformer (1972). Side one draws to a close with "Lisa Says." Unlike all the previous guitar-dominated tracks, this one softens things up with a piano high in the mix. It's also the first modern mix on the album; luckily, these aren't drastically different beyond increased clarity and reduced vocal distortion. Reed also later rerecorded this one on his commercially-flopping self-titled solo debut, where he was backed by a portion of the prog-rock band Yes. That album is actually contains the first official releases of four of this album's songs, including its' opener...
"I Can't Stand It." Side two opens with the count-in that precedes this rocker which picks the energy back up again. It's one of my favourites, with its' memorable lyrics such as "she used to hit me with a mop" and an interesting guitar solo, during the middle of which Reed builds tension by way of a countdown from eight to one. It's is featured here in a 2014 mix, and after it comes the fantastically silly "Temptation Inside Your Heart," the second song here featuring John Cale. Along with almost everything else they recorded in early '68 before he was kicked out of the group, this number shows the less serious and somewhat more commercial direction the band was already headed in. Reed and Cale parrot strange and often funny (as well as third-wall-breaking) vocal lines at each other overtop an imitation-R&B backing track, ending in laughter and a bust of bongos or possibly a different type of hand drum.
Things get more artsy and serious after that with the pretty ballad (I may be wrong about that second descriptor) "Ocean." The fabulous Mo Tucker washes the listener with cymbals imitating waves, and this song was hypnotically extended when they played at the Matrix in '69 (those four sets are highly recommended by this author, who finds The Complete Matrix Tapes to be one of the best live rock albums by anybody). Featured in its' '69 mix, this song was re-recorded by the Velvets later in '70 but nonetheless went unreleased until Reed closed his debut record with an excellent version of it in '72. The ghostly "here come the waves" backing vocals are a real treat. After that, Rock And Roll moves onward with a catchy pop-rock song called "One Of These Days" (one of many songs with that title), the only track with lead guitar by Doug Yule. A 2014 mix, its' second half is an instrumental jam that segways nicely into the following track, "Guess I'm Falling In Love," the first instrumental. It's also a modern mix. Interestingly, all three of the instrumentals on this album are simply unfinished songs—all had lyrics when performed live, and they are included at the bottom of the essay. There's a decent recording of the song with Reed singing from their April '67 gig at the Gymnasium in the Big Apple: I based the lyrics off that performance, and it's available in the excellent White Light/White Heat 45th Anniversary box. Anyhow, this is the only track recorded in '67, either during or shortly after the White Light/White Heat sessions, and as a result is full of that album's distinctive highly distorted and gritty guitar. It chugs along nicely, and fortunately (in my opinion, at least) doesn't feel too out of place, coming after the previous track's jam section. And with that, the first half of the album comes to a close!
Opening the imaginary second LP is the album's intended lead single (according to Lou Reed), the intentionally-commercial "We're Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together." It has prominent handclaps, and I don't have much else to say about it besides it being both pretty fun and a modern mix. Following that comes a weirder one, "Ferryboat Bill." This song and the earlier "Ocean" are the only ones whose '60's mixes were included on VU and Another View. Same mix here. With swirling keys, offensive lyrics, and doo-doo-doo-doo backing vocals, this short number almost feels more like an interlude than a real and complete song. After it ends abruptly on the doo-doo-doo-doo's, the song "Hey Mr. Rain" kicks in. This is another of the ones recorded before John Cale was fired from the band, and that viola is very prominent here. There were two versions of the song recorded: the way I see it, vesion one is somewhat more pedestrian and gets dull as a result, whereas version two (the one included on Rock And Roll) remains interesting throughout despite getting a little weirder, with elements unique to it such as the guitar zaps (for lack of a better word) that take place several times over the course of its' runtime. That's why I picked version two. It's also a modern mix.
Continuing on through the third side of the imaginary vinyl record, the instrumental "I'm Gonna Move Right In" follows "Hey Mr. Rain." Churning live versions of the track had lyrics (see them at the bottom of the post, although I couldn't make out a few of the words due to the limitations of the low-fidelity audience recordings I found), but this studio recording, which was mixed at the time, for some reason don't. Wether it was considered finished or not is unclear (to the extent of my knowledge, at least), but this six and a half minute groove is a pleasant change of pace in for the album despite that. Closing out the penultimate side is a live recording of "Over You," a song never recorded in the studio. Luckily, two different versions were recorded to multitrack tape during their four sets at the Matrix in November '69. 1969: The Velvet Underground Live (1974), which is largely sourced from those shows, uses the faster and sloppier performance, whereas I have chosen to include the slower and more carefully-performed version. It's a wonderful-sounding modern mix, and luckily doesn't sound too out of place next to these studio recordings. Also, the great line "I keep chasing lesser, lesser rainbows" really shows Reed's skill in the economy of words. He can say lots with very, very little, and his 1972 masterpiece "Perfect Day" is a masterclass in exactly that.
After side three ends with applause from the tiny audience, side four matches that non-musical energy with a quiet count-in to "Beginning To See The Light." This particular recording was made while John Cale was still there (this is actually the final track which features him), some months before the more acoustic-leaning version was recorded with Doug Yule for The Velvet Underground. I judged it both good and different enough to be worth including, and also becase this final side needed a chugging opener to get things moving again: a job which this version executes perfectly. Both it and this following track, "Coney Island Steeplechase," are modern mixes. "Steeplechase" is fun and catchy, especially the part where Lou Reed counts down the days of the week. After that we arrive at the album's closing trio of songs. On the band's third album, drummer Mo Tucker sings lead vocals on its' excellent closer "After Hours." Here, near the very end of the album, she does it again, singing "I'm Sticking With You." This track was used in the soundtrack to a wonderful film about a teenage pregnancy called Juno (2007), after which Lou Reed began performing it live again. This one is a sweet and silly song, as much of this album seems to be, and is a 1969 mix.
Same goes for the next track, which is also the title track and the final track with singing, "Rock And Roll." Several of the songs that the Velvets put to tape in 1969 were rerecorded during and shortly after the band made their final album, Loaded, the following year, but this was the only one that actually made the cut onto the released LP (the others were "Ocean," "I'm Sticking With You," and "Ride Into The Sun" with vocals). Nonetheless, I decided to make "Rock And Roll" the title track here because, the way I see it, this song is the band's thesis statement on this album. They are making, generally, the shallowest and most commercial rock music that they had recorded up until that point (although a number of songs don't fit that description, especially the Cale ones that I have shoehorned snugly into this LP). "We're Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together" being planned as the lead single is a real statement of commerciality that this number further encapsulates. The Velvet Underground are making rock music to have fun and good times to—at least relative to what they were doing before. Apart from on "Ocean," they're really not taking themselves that seriously, and as a result, this is their lightest album before Loaded.
It is for this precise reason that I chose the album cover that I did. It's an Andy Warhol imitation that was used as the cover to the Andy Warhol's Velvet Underground Featuring Nico compilation from 1971, an image commonly associated with the band that one of my friends even has on his wall as a poster. I see the lips sucking on soda as representing the commercial music (by their standards, it must be remembered) being listened to: in other words, feel-good product being consumed. Loaded with hits, but in different words and with a lot less in the hits department (not that Loaded charted much higher than their other stuff in the end). When, as the lyrics say, Jenny put on that New York station and heard fantastic rock music that saved her soul, she was listening to the Velvet Underground. That is why "Rock And Roll" is both the title and penultimate track on this album (and the last one with words). It's their statement about the music they were making—and is actually the polar opposite of the statement they were making with their second album White Light/White Heat, a monolith of uncommercial anti-beauty.
The album's musical journey ends, obviously, with its' final song: the beautiful cutrain-calling instrumental "Ride Into The Sun." Probably unlike the other instrumentals here, vocals were indeed recorded for this one in '69, but it seems the session tape with those and a pile of other overdubs dissapeared at some point before the song first got mixed for release in the '80s. This version with vocals still exists as a crappy-sounding acetate recording (for those who don't know, acetates are these records which degrade with each play but can be made very quickly, so were commonly taken home by artists at the end of sessions before cassettes replaced them), but I find most of the instruments in this modern remix relatively inaudible there, or at least the beauty of it is lost entirely to me (maybe or maybe not as a result of the serious loss in fidelity). It doesn't matter too much that the words are missing here because there are several later studio recordings of this song that include the full lyrics, so it's not like fans are really missing out on much. I find this song to be just so sublime, the audio equivalent of a sky-melting, blood-red, golden-violet sunset. It's the perfect playout music to this lovely album, in a way that makes it feel as if movie credits are rolling by. This is one of my very favourite song on the album, and by the band for that matter. And with its' fade out, Rock And Roll concludes.
So, to wrap things up nicely, here are the album's three sets of missing lyrics:
I got fever in my pocket
You know I gotta move
Hey babe, I guess I'm falling in love
I got fever in my pocket
Down to my shoes
Oh babe, I guess I'm falling in love
I got in my pocket, hey babe
Everything that I can have
I've got things in my love life
It's gonna work out fine
It's gonna be alright
I gotta move
You got yours on your side
Hey now babe, I guess I'm falling in love
I got fever in my pocket
Down to my shoes
Oh babe, I guess I'm falling in love
You'd better move it on sweet babe
Hey, on down to your shoes
Things they're right, mama
You know it'll work out fine
Hey, you gotta lose
Got hand in my pocket
You know it's up your street
Oh babe, I guess I'm falling in love
I've got ankles in my braces
Find it's hard to lose
Oh babe, guess I'm falling in love
Oh babe, guess I'm falling in love
Oh babe, guess I'm falling in love
"I'm Gonna Move Right In"
Well she's straight and looks like a lot of fun
The bar is open I'm gonna go drink with everyone
Walking down main street with my hat [unintelligible]
I've got all this money and have to have a care
I'm gonna move right in
I'm gonna move right in
I'm gonna move right in
After we hang a little we'll have a little fun
Maybe go shoot and kill and knife everyone
The bar looks like fun gonna have myself a drink
Babe I seem to know myself, I ain't gonna think
I'm gonna move right in
I'm gonna move right in
I'm gonna move right in
I'm gonna pay and try get myself straight
Gonna have a last look at me, she's gonna be my date
Go down on Main Street [unintelligible] going to the wire
I'm saying I have to get get get my plane higher
"Ride Into The Sun"
Looking for another place
Somewhere else to be
Looking for another chance
To ride into the sun
Ride into the sun
Ride into the sun
Ride into the sun
Ride into the sun
Where everything seems to pretty
When you're lonely and tired of the city
Remember it's a flower made out of clay
To the city
Where everything seems to ugly
When you're sitting at home in self pity
Remember you're just one more person
Who's living there
It's hard to live in the city
It's hard to live in the city
It's hard to live in the city
Monday, September 2, 2024
The Beach Boys - Smile (1967)
Well, here I am with one of the most well-known unfinished albums, the Beach Boys' Smile, mostly recorded from the summer of 1966 until April 1967. Despite being unfinished, this album is very ahead of it's time, and is also by a significant margin my favourite record by The Beach Boys. With the angelic opening prayer, the dense layering of "Heroes and Villains," the dark, dramatic buildup of "Wind Chimes," the sparse, crystaline beauty of "Surf's Up," and I don't even need to mention "Good Vibrations," the album is magnificently lush and layered. The system of fragmentary song construction that bandleader Brian Wilson was using throughout the project also makes this LP unlike any other albums of the period, and indeed it was incredibly arduous to put together with the analogue tape they were using. The complex (and almost endless) possibilities in terms of song structure no doubt contributed to the confusion that led to the collapse of the project. It all came to a halt because of Brian Wilson's pre-existing mental issues, exacrabated by drugs and a number of major stressors, along with band members who did not support the project. When the album was scrapped, Brian Wilson barred the use of that huge stack of session tapes for several decades, with only a few bits of the original recordings making it out until the 1990s.
Anyhow, my goal is to make this album as close as possible to what it really is: a cohesive LP with banded tracks that's the follow up to (and developement on) the incredible Pet Sounds (1966). Most of the songs from my reconstruction are taken from Soniclovenoize's great 2018 version of the album (found on his Albums That Never Were blog), with a few true-stereo bits taken from his later Hitsville Mix. He did an utterly fantastic job on that 2018 version, and you should absolutely listen to it, if not for his version of Smile then for all the great bonuses (including remastered versions of Brain Wilson's December 1966 test mixes that most songs' structures are based on!) and a huge backround PDF recounting the recording of the album in exceptional detail. I won't even try to compete with that, but I do believe that the album itself could have been assembled a little bit more cohesively.
One of the main complexities with putting this album together is the lack of a proper tracklist. Both the official versions of the album divide the songs into three movements, which would have been impossible to do on a 1967 LP. Early that year though, Capitol Records asked Brian Wilson for the song order so they could print the back covers, so Brian wrote them out a sequence on a slip of paper. It has some surprising choices, and after giving it a serious shot, I found that it didn't really add everything into a greater whole. I guess Capitol added a note on the covers saying that the actual running order would be found on the disc label for a reason. Also, to differentiate the mono and stereo albums, I removed the "full dimensional sound" label for the mono edition.
The album begins beautifully with an opening prayer. Brian Wilson told his bandmates that it would be a hidden introduction to the album during the recording session (he also asked them if the acid had kicked in yet, so I guess they recorded it while tripping), so I am doing exactly that, and it's just the opening part to the abruptly-beginning "Heroes And Villains." I use the mono version from the Smile Sessions, and the stereo version is the vintage 1968 stereo mix from the 20/20 Pastmasters CD, which is just so sublime. I edited out the penultimate "aaah" on both versions because that's what Wilson did on his test mixes. A very sensible decision, as it adds an element of sadness that isn't otherwise present. For "Heroes And Villains" itself, I used the finished mono mix made in early 1967 as found on the Smile Sessions album, and Soniclovenoize's full-stereo reconstruction of that mix from his Hitsville version (with some slight volume adjusting in places and using the same closing section as the mono mix). Interestingly, the full prayer was released in 1968 with possible overdubbing (Brian Wilson was not involved), and a portion of the "Heroes And Villains" backing track was reused in the final Smiley Smile version after the Smile project collapsed. In another world, the song's Smile mix might even have been considered as the follow-up to "Good Vibrations," and "Wonderful" could have been the b-side 'cause it got mixed too. This single could have competed on the charts with "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Penny Lane" from the Beatles! But alas, reality.
After that comes the first unfinished track, "Roll Plymouth Rock." The (great) finished 2000s recording with all the lyrics uses this title (as opposed to the standard "Do You Like Worms" title from the 1960s version), so I chose to use the former instead as it is both a far better title, and also because those words actually appear in this unfinished version of the song while "do you like worms" does not. I used Sonic's 2018 mono and stereo mixes, which were based on the structure of the 1966 test edit.
Following that, we remain in unfinished territory with "Out In The Barnyard." I decided on this title as it helps to center the song thematically. The opening segment takes its' vocals from an at-home piano demo, and you can hear the lo-fi piano appearing whenever the lyrics do - I wouldn't be without it though, it's a cool touch. It was said to be one portion of a four-part suite, and while the other three parts are a mystery, it does work very well here. The other three parts are from a three-part suite called "I'm In Great Shape." I use Sonic's 2018 version for both mixes. Also, if Brian Wilson Presents Smile is anything to go by, the workshop section was meant to have lyrics which is interesting. A bit of that section was used on the otherwise-fake-stereo album version of "Do It Again" on 20/20. What follows is "My Only Sunshine." Denis Wilson's lead vocals were taken from an acetate record. I used Sonic's 2018 version for mono and stereo, except for half of the latter which came from his true stereo Hitsville mix, with some subtle panning and volume adjustments. I also decided to shorten the title to the portion that appears in the lyrics.
The beautiful "Cabin Essence" follows. Mike Love refused to sing the verse lyrics in November 1966 since he couldn't understand them, which was one of the first cracks that lead to the evental collapse, so to say. He must have had a change of heart in the next little while, because, without Brian Wilson's involvement, he finally recorded them in 1968 and the finished song was released in a beautiful stereo mix as the closer to their 20/20 album. I use that mix on the stereo version, also taken from that great old Pastmasters CD, and Sonic's 2018 mono mix based on the test edit. Side one closes with "Good Vibrations," easily the most complex edit job on this entire album brimming with edit jobs. I used the normal single version because it doesn't make sense to me to do otherwise with this being the only song that got released during the album's sessions. The mono mix is taken from excellent Analogue Productions SACD of Smiley Smile from 2016, while the stereo mix is from that SACD as well although I could be mistaken. The latter mix is a bit brighter than the rest of the album, so I EQ'd it slightly to add some warmth. I included the music video for this song in the zip file.
Upon flipping the imaginary LP, we arrive now at "Wind Chimes," one of the few songs finished during the original albums' sessions but not given a final mix. I use Sonic's 2018 versions that are based on a test edit made during the song's final session that I have never heard. "Wind Chimes" is a personal favourite, and the third finished song in a row! Next up is a track I've loved for years, "Vega-Tables." The mono and stereo mixes are Soniclovenoize's edits of the official Smile Sessions mixes. A portion of the vocals near the end were re-used on the Smiley Smile re-recording, but that's all. Wilson never figured out how to assemble the song during the original Smile sessions, so the ideal structure was pinned down later on in the '80s or '90s.
This next song, which I've retitled "Fire (Of The Four Elements)," really spooked Brian. You can find the story about it in a million other places, but I can attest to its' bad luck! I was sitting in a waiting area before a flight, biding my time by scaping away at this album's song sequence, and because a flight attendant hadn't shown up, they had to boot passengers off for safety reasons. You can guess which song was playing in my headphones when my name came over the PA. Instead of filling up the suite with unrelated recordings that vaguely fit the theme, I decided to leave "The Elements" suite to just one part. There are some differences between my mono and stereo mixes, and this is easily the biggest one. The mono mix comes from the Smile Sessions, which has a dramatic pause between the intro and the body of the song, and also loops the main section while adding the vocals from the Smiley Smile re-recording on top. Sonic's stereo mix has no gap between the intro and body, and doesn't loop the song nor add vocals, so it's entirely instrumental in the stereo mix. I woudn't call any of the differences between my mixes totally intentional, but one of my favourite things about 1960s music is noticing the differences between the two official mixes, so it's all part of the fun (at least in my eyes).
After that, we arrive at the final four-song sequence that closes out the record, which is the only one of the official Smile suites that I left totally intact. It begins with "Wonderful," which was finished and given a mono mix in 1967. I take it from the Smile Sessions, and the stereo mix from Sonic's 2018 version, although I changed the speed slightly to match the test edit. This album being the Beach Boys' Sgt. Peppers, I see this song as the equivalent to "She's Leaving Home." After that comes "Song For Children," which, like "Roll Plymouth Rock," I use the better title found on Brian Wilson Presents Smile. I take the mono and stereo from Sonic, but I had to do some editing on the stereo mix. This is one case where I don't think lyrics are necessary because the music is expressive enough. After that near-instrumental is "Child Is Father Of The Man." Really too bad this one got so few vocals recorded for it (the chorus was taken from an acetate), as I think it would have helped define this suite of songs. Brian even sang lyrics to it off-mic during the session. Both mixes are Sonic's 2018 versions based on the test edit.
These bring us to the final song, "Surf's Up," which is my favourite Beach Boys song that isn't a wordless prayer. This track was only a single session in before the Smile plug got pulled, and would probably have been almost lost if Brian Wilson hadn't performed a solo piano demo at the end of the session that he double-tracked the vocal on. Taking up most of the song, it feels beautifully unfinished, which is perfect for the final track on this album. In 1971, the band pulled out the Smile tapes for overdubbing for the final time, and Carl Wilson redid the lead vocal on the opening part, and Dennis on the closing part Brian had forgotten to sing. Bass, keys, and other things were overdubbed as well, along with a host of backing vocals. The story goes that a suddenly reinvigorated Brian Wilson ran into the studio with a slip of paper that he had just scribbled lyrics on, before orchestrating the band's parts for it. In the context of their 1971 LP that this became the title track for, the 1971 "child is the father of the man" backing vocals make little sense, but in this context they do! If only the entire Smile album had recieved the same treatment in the early 1970s, as the contract they were under obliged them to do. Ah well, at least there's this.
The original mixes for their Surf's Up LP and its' preceding album Sunflower recieved a special processing which, if they were re-processed with a certain matrix, would make them sound incredible. Their engineer Stephen Desper had figured this process out, and eventually used it on Olympics broadcasts and other things - but the Beach Boys' label weren't insterested so it was never applied and left the albums sounding good but a little strange. The 1971-overdubbed version of "Surf's Up" is the most complete of them all, so I decided to use it on my version. The mono is a fold-down of the stereo matrix-processed version, while the stereo mix is not processed (it sounded more similar to the rest of Smile) and comes from the Analogue Productions SACD of 1971's Surf's Up. But that's not all! An album with a hidden introduction needs a hidden outro too, so I tacked "You're Welcome" onto the end of "Surf's Up." In stereo, I carefully made the song pan from one ear to the other, because I wanted a full-stereo album and this song seems to have been recorded in mono. I also faded one channel of "Surf's Up" fade out slightly to match where "You're Welcome" begins in the same ear. Interestingly, "You're Welcome" was the only unaltered song from Smile to be released in 1967, as the b-side to the "Heroes And Villains" single (it used the Smiley Smile partial re-recording). I interpret this as Brian Wilson saying "and that's all you're gonna get of the Smile tapes!" to the record buying public.
Had this album been finished and released in 1967, I believe it would have made waves and been highly influential, although definetly not as popular as Pepper, it's cousin in spirit. Had it come out in 1967, the entire history of the band would surely have been different, as the collapse of this project seriously marred their reputation and basically ended the band's huge commercial success in their home country until the Endless Summer compilation in the mid-'70s. To this day, "Good Vibrations" remains the only hint at what the reception may have been like for Smile. This year, Beyoncé interpolated its' chorus on her new (and excellent) album Cowboy Carter (which is something of an anthology of American music) which points at just how influential the song remains to this day. But among the ashes rises a phoenix, and even though it's missing some of its feathers, it is without a single doubt still a stunning bird. I hope my mixes of Smile make you smile, and please let me know what you think of it in the comments!
Friday, August 9, 2024
Nick Drake - Nick Drake (1974)
This is Nick Drake, my newly-assembled self-titled album meant to act as a fourth and final LP of its' singer-songwriter's far-too-short career. Drake had released three beautiful and carefully crafted records around the turn on the '70s, all of which had barely sold any copies by the time he died. When he passed away, he was in the middle of recording his fourth album, and a written sequence he left behind show that he had recorded the entire first side of the record. None of the three official releases of the "final four" songs from his final sessions (as they were known before a fifth was found and they became the "final five") used this intended sequence, so I am trying to rectify that now to bring this collection of his final songs (and older leftovers) more in line with his creative vision.
I'll start with some background info. Nick Drake had recorded his final LP Pink Moon (1972) over the final two days of October 1971, and unlike his two previous albums, this one featured him alone on guitar, which he recorded sitting facing the studio's wall. Only the title track recieved so much as a single piano overdub, and the only other person in the studio with him was longtime engineer and first-time producer John Wood. Drake's record company didn't even know that he was recording anything until the mastertape arrived at their door. Included on that album master, maybe for a later project, was a short intstrumental cover of "Plaisir D'Amour," which has still never recieved a widespread release. I managed to find it as a hidden bonus track to the SACD edition of the A Treasury compilation, but it's not even on the CD of the general-release version.
One outtake is more than what came out of the sessions for his second album, though. Bryter Layter (1971, but recorded in 1970) contains three instrumentals, and since the album's final sequencing was being left to Drake's original producer Joe Boyd, Drake didn't want to risk any of his instrumentals getting cut at behest of new songs. Because of this, he said he had no new material when he absolutely did ("Voices" was a home demo as early as 1967), so no other songs were ever attempted.
Luckily, four extra songs from the sessions for his debut Five Leaves Left (1969) do exist. He plays guitar unacompanied on "Joey" and "Clothes Of Sand," along with on "Time Of No Reply." This one had an orchestral arrangement written out at the time by one of Drake's university friends, but due the song being cut from the album, budget limitations prevented that from being recorded. The same fate befell the song "Magic," which was origially recorded with an unsatisfactory backing band and also never got the chance for an intended orchestral redemption; with "Way To Blue" making the cut, he didn't want a second song without any guitar on it. There have also been a few alternate versions from those sessions to be released over the years. Only one other song of his was ever put to tape in the studio, "Mayfair," during the audition for his label Island Records. He flubbed the lyrics partway through, and because of that, the substandard audio quality, and the general weak nature of the song, I chose not to include it here as it brought down the album as a whole no matter where it was placed in the sequence.
1972 was the first year that Drake made no studio recordings, although Pink Moon was released in late February. He returned to the studio in 1973 during a bright spot in a long and deep depression. Here I will copy vertabim this reddit post except for the added italics, which the lyrics at the end of my blog post are taken from as well:
This is based on the fantastic book Remembered For a While (2014) by Gabrielle Drake. The first recording session was 22 February 1973 with John Wood, the sound engineer who he worked on Pink Moon with: 'We went in and we did three songs – just tracks, because Nick hadn’t got complete lyrics, which was very unusual for him. There were two versions of “Black Eyed Dog”, one with heavy [guitar] strings and the other with light [guitar] strings – that‘s what the “strings” denotes on the tape box. Then we did “Rider on the Wheel” and we did "Hanging on a Star” – again, both without lyrics – although what surprises me, having seen the tape box label, is that he must have had a bit more lyrically than he let on, because all the titles [for the three songs] are written on there.' There were further abortive recording sessions in October 1973 when Joe Boyd got back from Los Angeles and the final recordings took place in July 1974. “Tow the Line” was the final song Nick recorded. Here's the planned track listing:
2. “Black Eyed Dog”
3. “Rider on the Wheel”
4. “Hanging on a Star”
5. “Tow the Line”
6. “Saw You on a Starship”
7. “Old Fairytale”
8. “Even Now”
9. “On This Day”
10. “Long Way to Town” [end quote]
"Tow The Line" was for some reason left unmentioned on the tape box, and was only discovered in the 2000s. Drake had rough mixes made of the other four songs, and took home a listening tape of them (and these early mixes sound really nice, actually). He died from an overdose of perscription medication on November 25, 1974, almost certainly a suicide.
Those four recordings from 1973 and '74 have been released together on three different occasions. The first time was as bonus tracks to the Pink Moon disk in Drake's first ever posthumous release, the 1979 Fruit Tree box set of his three albums. They were sourced from that listening tape, as they were on this next release. In the late 1980s the Fruit Tree box set was reissued with a bonus disk that got put out on its' own shortly thereafter, as the Time Of No Reply compilation from 1987. It includes two songs from his audition for his label Island Records (including the afformentioned "Mayfair"), the four outtakes and one early version of a song all from his debut album, a few home demos, and closed out with the "final four" in a slightly different order to how they were in the Fruit Tree set. It's a good collection well worth getting for any fan of Drake's who likes the three main albums as it contains unique versions of some songs (the home demo of "Fly," for example, is arrestingly haunting and I prefer it to the studio version), but overall Time Of No Reply really doesn't have the best sound quality. Along with that, the sequence holds the album together cohesively but nonetheless doesn't sound as cohesive as any of his studio LPs.
Nick Drake finally began gaining the notoriety he deserved when his song "Pink Moon" was used in a Volkswagen commercial around the turn of the millenium. This sparked his record company to work on a reissue campaign where they remastered his albums, released a new "best of" compilation, and slightly later on put out an album of home demos. They were also planning on remastering Time Of No Reply, but they changed course partway through and decided to fully rebuild it from the ground up, whereupon it evolved into a different compilation called Made To Love Magic (2004). Everything was remixed and sounds far, far better. They removed the audition songs, switched out the home demos, kept the four Five Leaves Left outtakes (although "Time Of No Reply" and "Magic" had originally-intended orchestral additions overdubbed onto them), added a second alternate version from that same album, and as they had just located "Tow The Line," released the entire "final five" all together for the very first time. They did use a different take of "Hanging On A Star" though, and both are good in different ways. I find the 1987-released version to be less of a tight performance (and ends very abruptly), but has more emotional power than the fragile Made To Love Magic one. The entire sequence was changed as well; instead of the roughly-chronological Time Of No Reply, the songs were all insterspersed with each other with a detrimental effect to the total cohesion.
This collection is intended to serve as an eulogy to Nick Drake, a musical epitaph of sorts, beginning with his final songs and then returning full circle to some of his first, before closing out on the only non-original song Drake ever recorded in the studio, a short and beautiful instrumental version of the classical French love song "Plaisir D'Amour." To me it serves as a symbolic goodbye, both to and from him, or in other words acts as a send-off to the afterlife.
The first five songs are in Drake's intended order, and I used older outtakes and leftovers to make up the second side of this imaginary LP. His playing evolved a lot over the course of his short career, and due to the chronologically-diverse nature of the source material (four outtakes from '68/'69, one from '71, and five from '73/'74), Nick Drake is an album of two distinct halves, but I've sequenced it so that the division is as smooth as can be and there are no sudden breaks in mood. On every "final five" song except for "Rider On The Wheel," Nick is singing in his falsetto, which is a stark contrast against the warmth of his normal singing voice. Indeed, this only adds to the dark mood that hovers over much of the album, but with the older numbers, and especially the orchestral songs near the end, it pulls out of that to finish with a more positive atmosphere (that atmosphere is no doubt why "Plaisir D'Amour" was left off the much more subdued Pink Moon). The older songs are admittedly quite a bit weaker than the first half, but there's nothing that can be done about that, and at 27:25 minutes long, it's only about half a minute shorter than his last album; a very professional length.
As far as I know, there was no intended album title yet at that stage of the recording process, but since Nick Drake never had a self-titled album (except for a rare US-only compilation made of songs from his first two records), I figured that it made a lot of sense to name it after the creator, as it showcases his talents at very different points in his development. The cover for this album is one of the only pieces of album artwork I've made myself for my reconstruction projects. The starkness of the white text on flat black background fits the mood of the first half of the album perfectly.
I think the most fitting way to close this out is with Nick Drake's own words, so here are the lyrics to the unrecorded second half of the album he was working on in 1973 and 1974. Before that though, here are two other songs found among the others which did not make the cut for the album. All is taken from the reddit post above, which is sourced from Gabrielle Drake's book.
“Sing A Song”
Sing a song, sing it low,
Sing a song, make it slow,
Sing a song, let it show,
I am yours from now on.
All new games we can play,
All new words we can say,
All new words won't betray,
I am yours from now on.
You are my treasure-trove,
You are my stars above,
Hold on tight, let me prove,
I am yours from now on.
“Paid Brain”
Well they's paying him in gold,
And they's paying him in smiles,
And they's payin for his brain,
And they's payin for his wiles;
He's a paid brain,
Lord say he should be so,
Yes he's a paid brain
And the Lord say he should be so.
Lyrics for the second side of the fourth album:
“Saw You on a Starship”
Saw you on a starship, moving so free
Called out to you, won't you please see me,
Saw you with the dragon between your knees,
Said, Hey you, won't you help me please,
You can travel, I can travel too,
We can travel, travel two by two.
Saw you on a journey, a witch's broom,
Said move over won't you please make room,
Saw you on a cloudburst, so cold, so warm,
Said, Hold on, just a passing storm,
You can travel, I can travel too,
We can travel, travel two by two.
Sailing easy, flying high,
Watching all the times go by,
In the slipstream, broke down and confessed,
You're the one that we love the best,
You can travel, I can travel too,
We can travel, travel two by two.
”Old Fairytale”
You open the door, don't you make a sound,
The light come in, you spread it all around,
And you cast your spell right across the ground,
It's an old fairytale.
The days go by, you're looking for a theme,
The night come down you go to be to dream,
While the people they change from blue to green,
It's an old fairytale.
So call the tune, don't you call for me,
What you see is a mystery,
You can say it has to be,
An old fairytale.
You open the door don't you make a sound,
The light come in, you spread it all around,
And you cast your spell right across the ground,
“Even Now”
You can tell me that you're coming through,
I can tell you that I'm changing too,
won't you see me through,
We can seek you out,
We can scream and shout,
Even now, even now.
Even at the point of no return,
We can sit and watch our bridges burn,
don't you see 'em turn,
We can follow down,
All around the town,
Even now, even now.
And if you're losing what you started with,
Don't you grieve for what you're parted with,
broken-hearted with,
You can bring it through,
Maybe make it new,
Even now, even now.
You can tell me that you're pulling through,
I can tell you that it's happening too,
won't you see it through,
We can fall about,
And we can seek you out,
Even now, even now.
“On This Day”
'A' train just don't run,
Good time just won't come,
On this day, on this day.
New sun just don't shine,
New love just ain't mine,
This old time, this old time.
New day just won't dawn,
New love just ain't born,
On this day, on this day.
See you coming, I know the score,
And I know that you know it too,
See you going, ask you for more,
'Cos I know that you want it too,
See you coming, I can't be beat,
And I tell you it's for real,
See you going, bring on the heat,
Won't you tell me how you feel.
'A' train just don't run,
Good time just won't come,
On this day, on this day.
“Long Way to Town”
Well I don't wish to deceive you more,
And I don't wish to call you down;
And I don't wish to deny my name,
But it's a long long way to town.
And long long way to town, to town,
A long long way to town.
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