Loudon Wainwright III:: Clockwork Chartreuse... Live (unauthorized live CD)

[Review by Bill Glahn]

 Wainwright III: Clockwork Chartreuse… Live (Echoes CD2056)

Venue: Liberty Hall, Houston, TX, November 3, 1973

Cover: 8-page booklet including liner notes and photos with tray card in traditional jewel case

Sound Quality: very good to excellent, clean with a little digital residue. In pre-digital days, it would be the equivalent of being on normal bias tape vs. high bias. The liner notes state that this was broadcast on KPFT-FM (a community station which the KKK had already tried to bomb out of existence twice by this time), but more likely a soundboard or a KLOL-FM broadcast (a commercial station which already had a working relationship with Columbia artists for live broadcasts).

Tracklist: Down Drinking At The Bar (fades in)/ In Am The Way (New York Town)/ Have You Ever Been To Pittsburgh?/ New Paint/ Nocturnal Stumblebutt/ Bell Bottom Pants/ Clockwork Chartreuse/ Liza/ AM World/ Muse Blues/ Be Careful, There’s A Baby In The House/ Unrequited To The 9^th Degree/ Lullabye/ You Hurt Me Mantra/ The Man Who Couldn’t Cry/ I Know I’m Unhappy-Suicide Song (cut)

Comments: “Crossing the highway late last night…” – I was 17 in the fall of 1972, travelling through rural Mississippi or Arkansas late on a Friday night, when I first heard those words coming on KAAY, a powerhouse AM station with Beaker Street providing an FM-style mixed format show for the Midwest when there were few of those type stations in the heartland. KAAY broadcast at 50,000 watts making its late-night programming influential throughout the Midwest. Beaker Street introduced America to such diverse acts as Loudon Wainright III and Black Oak Arkansas. (So influential was Beaker Street in breaking the first BOA album that the band recorded a couple of promotional songs to be played exclusively on the program). Six months later, you couldn’t play a Top 40 station anywhere without hearing “Dead Skunk.” It would take Black Oak Arkansas a little longer.

Loudon Wainwright III released two albums on Atlantic that featured just him, his guitar, and his songs. Although a few critics lauded his unusual approach to folk songwriting, for the most part there was little of note to appear in the music journals of the day. Add the complete lack of radio play and both albums stiffed. Atlantic dropped him and Columbia picked him up. Encouraged by the great response to the song on Beaker Street, who’s format was half picks by DJ Clive Clifford and the other half chosen by listener call-ins, Columbia would issue it as a single in the summer of 1973 and then a fourth album, Attempted Mustache, later in the year. Back in New Jersey by this time, I couldn’t listen to Philly or New York radio without hearing the song. And apparently, neither could prople anywhere else. With the added elements of banjo, fiddle and drums, - absent from the Atlantic albums, “Dead Skunk” shot up to #16 on the national Top 40 (#12 in Cashbox). I bought the single that summer. I bought Attempted Mustache later that year. Filled with tragicomic songs where structure didn’t seem to matter or rhyming either, Wainwright seemed to never find it in his thought process to throw out a good joke or a good turn of a phrase. Everything fit, even when it didn’t. I had to backtrack for the rest. I imagine that was the path for a whole lot of other fans as well, because Wainwright ended up developing a hard-core following that exists to this day. That rarely happens for “one hit wonders” who hit the charts with a novelty song.

“Dead Skunk,” being a novelty tune with conventional song structure, is the kind of song an artist can tire of performing rather quickly. And audiences can tire of hearing with overexposure. With Attempted Mustache now in the record racks, Wainwright already had removed the song from his setlist in late 1973. His audiences didn’t seem to mind.

 Lloyd Maines tells a story about producing Terry Allen. When producing Terry Allen for the first time, Maines mentioned that not all verses were of equal measure, in some cases partial measures. Allen replied, “It’s a song, not a math problem.” Mains says that it changed his way of hearing music forever. That revelation came to me a few years earlier through Loudon Wainwright III albums.

1973 found Columbia Records in the unenviable position of losing their greatest artist, Bob Dylan, who had one foot out the door, heading for Asylum Records. They were eager to promote “the new Bob Dylan,” of which they had two potential candidates on the roster already, Loudon Wainwright III and Bruce Springsteen. Neither, of course, entirely fit the bill, but both were uniquely talented songwriters with a “folkish” (not folk) pedigree. Springsteen seemed to offer a greater potential for a mass audience and the label threw their support behind Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ. Wainwright was kept on as a “backup plan,” so to speak. Once again, no advance singles were released and Columbia waited until the following year, once two songs from Attempted Mustache, “Down Drinking At The Bar” and “I Am The Way” gained favor on the FM airwaves. In 1974, both were released as a double a-side.

Those are the two songs that Wainwright starts off this set with. Unfortunately, Clockwork Chartreuse… Live only includes the last minute of “Down Drinking At The Bar,” a fact not noted on the track listing. That’s unfortunate, because you miss his penchant for twisting a phrase in his own unique way – “Tear jerkers are jerking your tears.” Instead, the CD enters with a taste of Wainwright at his accusative and vindictive worst. No worry. The first full song on the CD captures Wainwright at his comical best, the rewrite of Woody Guthrie’s “New York Town,” reset in Jerusalem with new lyrics, “I Am The Way.” It was an instant crowd favorite and one that receives more requests these days than “Dead Skunk.”

Wainwright is clearly focused on promoting his latest release with this performance. 10 of the 12 tracks on Attempted Mustache are included in the setlist. Only “Muse Blues” (III), ”Be Careful, There’s a Baby In The House (II),” and “I Know I’m Unhappy-Suicide Song” (II) are from previous albums. “Unrequited to the Nth Degree” and “You Hurt Me Mantra” were works in progress, and “Have You Ever Been To Pittsburgh?” is an off-the-cuff ditty with no connection to his 1^st album’s “Ode To Pittsburgh.”

Attempted Mustache is probably the best example of Wainwright’s overall approach to writing at a time when he was comical, self-focused, engaged in new responsibilities and in possession of an unusual ability to write entertaining songs about everyday occurrences (for example, raising children). Emotional maturity would come later.

Unfortunately, as accurate a portrait as this disc is of Wainwright’s live act during this period, it exits the way it entered – with a clipped final track. No mention of that, either, on the tracklist.

Grade: B (docked a full point for the incomplete tracks)

Bonus concert: 

New York Dolls: Radio Luxembourg - On Vinyl, A Well Traveled Recording

 

[review by Rev. Keith A. Gordon]

NEW YORK DOLLS

Live At Radio Luxembourg

(Radiation Reissues, Italy)

VENUE: Radio Luxembourg studios live-to-air broadcast, Paris France; December 1st, 1973.

SOUND QUALITY: Not too bad overall, possibly taken from the original radio station tapes. Tinny sound, and a little hollow, with an odd separation of vocals and instruments that sound like they’re sunk into a sonic cavern. Side two clatters a bit and the frequent interjections by the DJ mess up the overall EQ. Quite listenable, though, the album capturing the band’s anarchic energy and young, loud, and snotty attitude. Turn it up!

COVER: Front cover features the electric-pink New York Dolls “lipstick” logo above a hazy photo of the band against a black backdrop with “Live At Radio Luxembourg” superimposed in yellow, looking like an old rubber stamping. Back cover has track list and band credits; the album sporting nice thick vinyl with simple black labels with the pink type. In other words, nuthin’ fancy…and virtually identical to the 2010 Lilith Records vinyl release of the show. 

TRACKLIST: Side A: 1. Intro • 2. Personality Crisis • 3. Bad Girl • 4. Looking For A Kiss • 5. Give Her A Great Big Kiss • 6. Stranded In the Jungle  Side B: 7. Pills • 8. Vietnamese Baby • 9. Trash • 10. Chatterbox • 11. Jet Boy

COMMENTS: While in high school during the early ‘70s, I was fanatical about getting every issue of Creem magazine as soon as it hit the newsstand. I lived and died by what Lester Bangs and Dave Marsh (and later, my rockcrit mentor Rick Johnson) would write about, and I’d buy a lot of records by unknown bands just because of the reviews in Creem. That was my introduction to the New York Dolls, whose debut LP I bought because somebody raved about it in my favorite rock rag. The Dolls’ audacious rock ‘n’ roll sound and campy proclivities (including the front cover’s controversial drag photo of the band) may have been polarizing to others, but songs like “Personality Crisis,” “Frankenstein,” and “Lonely Planet Boy” tickled brain cells I didn’t even know existed within my skullspace.

The earliest incarnation of the Dolls was formed in 1971 by guitarists Johnny Thunders (who doubled on vocals) and Rick Rivets, bassist Arthur “Killer” Kane, and drummer Billy Murcia. They added vocalist David Johansen when Thunders decided to concentrate on guitar; Murcia’s childhood friend Sylvain Sylvain would replace Rivets on rhythm guitar. They initially made a name for themselves by playing regularly at NYC venues like the Mercer Arts Center and Max’s Kansas City, but the band’s momentum took a hit when Murcia accidentally overdosed during a brief 1972 European tour. After auditioning a number of drummers, including Marc Bell (who would later play with the Voidoids and the Ramones) and Peter Criscuola (née Peter Criss of Kiss), they enlisted Jerry Nolan, a friend of the band, to fill the empty drum seat.

It was this line-up that was signed to Mercury Records and put into the studio to record their self-titled 1973 debut album under the aegis of musician/producer Todd Rundgren. Although the set received overall a modicum of critical acclaim, sales were nothing to write home about, and not everybody was on board – a writer for Stereo Review notably compared the Dolls’ guitar sound to that of a lawnmower – but rock critics like Ira Robbins of Trouser Press considered it “an innovative record, and brilliantly chaotic” while Robert Christgau in Newsday called the Dolls “the best hard rock band in the country and maybe the world right now.” Although it was widely overlooked at the time, and the label put little (if any) resources into promoting it, the Dolls’ debut would prove to be a major influence on bands like the Sex Pistols, the Damned, the Smiths, the Ramones, and Redd Kross, among many others. 

Touring in support of their debut album, which was released in July 1973, the New York Dolls made their way to Europe in late November of that year, playing a handful of U.K. dates before landing in France. They would perform live in the studios of Radio Luxembourg in Paris on December 1st for an on-air broadcast that has since become the stuff of legend. Frequently-bootlegged, the performance would become the “Holy Grail” of Dolls collectors, as it captures the band at their drunken, anarchic best. This version of the show comes from the Italian-based Radiation Records label, which is connected to the Radiation Record Store in Rome and has released a number of interesting recordings by an eclectic bunch of artists like Joy Division, Toy Dolls, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, and the Gun Club as well as a bunch of vintage reggae sides from legends like Max Romeo, Derrick Morgan, and Augustus Pablo.

Live At Radio Luxembourg opens with brief introduction by the station DJ (spoken entirely in French) in front of a studio audience, the band then ripping into “Personality Crisis” with reckless aplomb, Johansen’s vocals roaring above a din that is dominated by Thunders’ stinging fretwork and Jerry Nolan’s bombastic drumbeats. “Bad Girl” continues at a galloping pace, Nolan’s machine-gun percussion outrunning Kane’s sonorous bass licks, Johansen doing his best vocal gymnastics above the roiling, turbulent soundtrack. The band meshes well on “Looking For A Kiss,” the instrumental attack perfectly blending proto-punk and primal metal in creating the chaotic Sturm und Drang that was the band’s trademark. 

“Give Her A Great Big Kiss” is a reworked version of the 1961 Shadow Morton hit by the Shangri-Las (interestingly, Morton would produce the Dolls’ Too Much, Too Soon album). The band delivers it as an over-amped, frat-rock jam with call-and-response vocals between Johansen, Thunders, and Sylvan while the rhythm section choogles on gleefully behind the hambone frontmen. It’s an enthusiastic and exciting performance that makes one wonder why they didn’t include it on one of their two 1970-era albums (the song demoed but never properly recorded). Side one closes out with “Stranded In the Jungle,” a cover of the 1956 hit by doo-wop group the Jayhawks. It seems to have been tailor-made for the Dolls, offering a tale of love and betrayal with brilliant, tongue-in-cheek lyrics and whiplash time changes that challenged the band’s instrumental prowess.

Side two of Live At Radio Luxembourg cranks the amps with the band’s larger-than-life cover of Bo Diddley’s “Pills.” The Dolls imbue the song with the crackling energy that would inspire a thousand and one punk bands to follow, Johansen’s lead vox battling with skewed harmonies from Thunders and Sylvain while the band bangs away in the background. “Vietnamese Baby” remains one of my fave Dolls songs, maybe the closest they ever came artistically to the Stooges, Thunders’ low-slung flamethrower guitar and Johansen’s growling, sneering vocals rising above a complex instrumental wall-of-sound that crushes any expectations of the band, offering a glimpse at the magic the band was capable of creating onstage.

There are far too many unintelligible DJ introductions on side two, disrupting the livewire electrical current of the album’s first side. “Trash” would be considered a throwaway by any other band, but Johansen’s gatling-gun vocals and emotional shading, combined with the band’s reckless instrumentation, elevate what is essentially a parody love song to the level of great rock ‘n’ roll. Thunders’ “Chatterbox” features the wayward guitarist acquitting himself nicely on the microphone and shining with his scalpel-sharp, pre-Tommy Peter Townshend-styled six-string pyrotechnics. The album closes out with the ear-banging roar of “Jet Boy,” the band teetering down the tracks like a runaway locomotive with snotty Johansen vocals, Sylvain’s hypnotic rhythm guitar riff, and Thunders’ tornado-strength solos.  

Live At Radio Luxembourg straddles the line between the Dolls’ critically-acclaimed self-titled debut album and their soon-to-come sophomore effort, offering seven tunes from the former and a pair of scorching rockers from the latter, with a welcome outlier in the middle. The performance is wonderfully reckless and engaging, bursting with energy and charisma. Reviewing a different vinyl version of this show, Will Pinfold writes for Spectrum Culture, “the chances of ever hearing the band at its absolute best would seem to be pretty slight, but in fact it’s a relief to find that, for every moment on this album – and there are a few – where the show sounds like drunks fighting in a guitar shop, there are many more where the band meshes perfectly and delivers glam trash rock at its most sublime.”

This specific NY Dolls’ performance has seen a number of semi-legit CD and vinyl releases through the years, including French label Skydog’s 1993 CD Paris’ Burning and former Dolls’ manager Marty Thau’s 1999 Red Star Records’ LP Live In Concert – Paris ’74 [sic]. Other versions include Paris Le Trash (Triple X Records), If It’s Saturday This Must Be Paris (Rokarola Records), and From Paris With Luv (L.U.V.) (Sympathy For The Record Industry). The Russian label Lilith Records released the show in 2010 on vinyl and included a full-length CD as a bonus! 

By comparison, this Radiation Reissues wax is kinda chintzy, dropping a live version of Muddy Waters’ “Hoochie Coochie Man” that seems to appear on every single other version of the show that I’ve found. The Dolls’ classic “Puss ‘n’ Boots” is also absent, although it too can be found on other CD and vinyl reissues of the same show. Because of this short-sheeting of the set list, I’m docking Live At Radio Luxembourg a full grade, the performance worth an ‘A’ but the presentation falling short of perfection. Grade: B (Review by Rev. Keith A. Gordon)

Another perspective on the show: https://spectrumculture.com/2021/06/13/new-york-dolls-live-at-radio-luxembourg-paris-dec-1973-review/

For more information on the New York Dolls, check out https://www.fromthearchives.com/nyd/chronology.html

Link Wray: Unauthorized live CD adds more evidence for a Hall of Fame induction

[review by Bill Glahn]

Link Wray: Live… My Father’s Place 1979 (Klondike KLCD 5079)

Venue: June 22, 1979 My Father’s Place, Roslyn, NY

Cover: 8-page insert with extensive liner notes with tray card in traditional jewel case

Sound Quality: very good - most likely taken from a circulating flac file that lists the sonic path as FM analog (3^rd generation, cassette) > DAT > CD-R clone > transfer to flac file (no eq, sound level adjusted). That would make this silver disc an internet lift, as the sound is pretty much identical. Not the kind of instrument separation you’d get from mastering analog to disc, but very listenable nonetheless.

Tracklist: Blue Suede Shoes/ Fever/ Jack The Ripper/ It’s All Over Now Baby Blue/ Baby What You Want Me To Do/ Don’t/ Money/ Peggy Sue/ Run Chicken Run/ Ace of Spades/ You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling/ Love Me/ I Fought The Law/ I Saw Her Standing There/ Rawhide/ Rumble

Comments: The gravest omission from the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame, in my opinion, has to be Link Wray. And not just because he is cited as a major influence by every guitarist of note from Jimmy Page to Neil Young to Stevie Van Zandt. Many music historians have noted the sonic boom of Wray’s first hit single, the instrumental, “Rumble (1958).” Iggy Pop takes it further, citing his punk attitude. Wray has been nominated twice, but the deaf ears of the Hall’s voting contingent have never taken it to full blown inauguration. But anyone who followed Wray’s career past 1958 knows that Wray should be in the Hall for a lot more reasons than that.

“Rumble” provides a centerpiece in the film, It Might Get Loud, with Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White marveling at the playing of the single all those years later. This is a problem when a single has such a profound impact on the music world that it pigeonholes an artist like Wray. What the labels wanted was more of the same – loud and brutal instrumentals. Which Wray delivered in spades with follow-ups like “Rawhide,” “Jack The Ripper,” and “Ace of Spades.” The record companies milked the string of popularity on instrumentals until the mid sixties, whereupon instrumental artists like Wray and Dick Dale and Duane Eddy found themselves persona non-gratis.

So, in 1971, Link Wray reinvented himself and quietly jumpstarted the DIY movement in the process. Recorded in a three-track studio converted from an old chicken shack on the family farm, Wray, along with brother Vernon (no slouch either) behind the board, created a piece of Americana that stands up well to this day. He found an interested buyer for the recordings in Polydor, a European major that had opened a U.S. branch in 1969 and had an impressive list of acts. Wray would record 3 more albums for Polydor before moving on. Although relatively quiet as a recording act in the mid seventies, Wray moved to San Francisco and became a popular live act, often teaming up with John Cipollina. A number of excellent broadcast recordings featuring the Wray/Cipollina pairing over KSAN are worth hunting down. But Wray also did a lot of European touring in the late seventies, where he has always remained popular. Two Wray singles from the album, Bullshot, were released in Europe during the punk apex, a version of Bob Dylan’s “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue,” and Little Willie John’s “Fever,” both delivered with maybe a little too much production, but both distinctly Wray. And if Iggy Pop was adopted as “godfather” by the punks, Wray was adopted as the grand elder. For once, Link Wray seemed to be in sync with, instead of ahead, of the times. At least across the ocean. Neither single was released in the States. Which is the period captured by this CD.

Several shows were broadcast on a summer promotional tour of the northeast for Bullshot, including this one. And it’s a doozy. Wray had put a live set together that consisted pretty much of a history of rock ‘n’ roll framed in power chords and stinging leads. Keith Lentin (bass) and Anton Fig (drums) provide a powerhouse rhythm section and the trio dropped the production frills and turned up the volume.

Klondike has included the entire set, starting with a rousing version of Carl Perkins’ “Blue Suede Shoes” and closing up with Wray’s most famous tune, “Rumble.” In between there are covers of Jimmy Reed, Elvis Presley, Barrett Strong by way of The Beatles, Buddy Holly, The Righteous Brothers and others, along with some of Wray’s best known tunes.

As a singer, Wray has a limited range (the lower register of Elvis Presley or Roy Orbison without the high end abilities of either). But he generally sticks within his limits and had become a fine vocalist by this time. On the couple of tunes where he attempts to stretch it out, (i.e. “I Saw Her Standing There”) the results aren’t particularly good. Wray paces the set with a couple love ballads, but basically it’s a start-to-finish blitzkrieg.

Two months later, he would record the highly acclaimed Live at the Paradiso live album in Europe (later released under license in the US. On Visa Records) and move to Europe soon after. Link Wray remained in Europe for the rest of his life where he enjoyed continued popularity and a steady touring career. It’s a tragedy that he never received equal respect in the U.S. and certainly an egregious oversight by the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame that he wasn’t inducted on day one. With all the testimony by musicians already in the Hall about his impact as a major influence, the continued absence of Wray remains an embarrassment. Obviously, the Hall is more interested in selling tickets these days than presenting a proper history.

With a master source tape, and a legitimate release, properly edited for mass consumption, this is the type of recording that has a shot at a Grammy award in several categories (Lifetime Achievement Award, Best Americana Roots Performance). Maybe that’s the road to get the HoF off their duff. Years of fan complaints certainly haven’t.

Bonus: If Elvis looked badass on his 1968 comeback special, Link Wray looked downright DANGEROUS on stage throughout his career, like an axe-carrying delinquent. And that's certainly how the establishment viewed him from the start. "Rumble" was banned from many radio stations because it was viewed as violent and a bad influence - sort of like the instrumental predecessor of "Louie Louie."

  

 

Warren Zevon - Simple Man, Simple Dream: Lackluster sound quality diminishes excellent performance on unauthorized CD

 

[review by Rev. Keith A. Gordon]

WARREN ZEVON Simple Man, Simple Dream (Laser Media CD)

VENUE: The Metro, Boston MA; WBCN-FM radio broadcast; September 29th, 1982.

SOUND QUALITY: Although it’s nowhere near as bad as those one-star reviews on Amazon would have you believe – I’m guessing that many of these amateur critics just recently discovered the wealth of dodgy “copyright gap” CD releases available these days – the CD’s sound is somewhat muddy with a few sonic artifacts creeping in along the edges and an overall hollow feel to the performances. It sounds like you’re standing against the back wall of a cavernous warehouse and watching the show, with all the echo and distortion that implies; not unlistenable by any measure, but not of the quality of the legit, label-released Stand In the Fire LP (which, strangely, a lot of people compare this to?).

COVER: Laser Media isn’t known for spending a lot of time or money on the label’s CD packaging, so you get a sepia-toned Zevon photo for the front cover (the same pic as the previously-released Live In Boston 1982 set on Live Wire) with a track listing on the rear of a single-ply insert. The tray card lists the songs again and, in the fine print, states that this CD is an “official radio broadcast.” Sure it is…

TRACKLIST: 1. Johnny Strikes Up the Band • 2. The Overdraft • 3. A Certain Girl • 4. Let Nothing Come Between You • 5. Jeannie Needs A Shooter • 6. Join Me In L.A. • 7. Gorilla, You’re A Desperado • 8. Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner • 9. The Envoy • 10. Simple Man, Simple Dream • 11. Bill Lee • 12. Charlie’s Medicine • 13. Jungle Work • 14. Play It All Night Long

COMMENTS: Singer/songwriter Warren Zevon enjoyed modest commercial success when his third album, 1978’s Excitable Boy, achieved Gold™ Record status on the back of the Top 30 hit “Werewolves of London” which, in turn, drove the album into the Top 10 on the charts. Zevon’s follow-up, 1980’s Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School, while performing admirably (peaking at #20), was considered a step backwards commercially and creatively (note to critics: it’s actually a pretty great record). A poorly-performing live set, Stand In the Fire (which ain’t half-bad, either…) haunted the upper half of the albums chart and signaled that Zevon’s commercial momentum may have stalled.

Although his fortunes had begun to wane somewhat by the time of The Envoy, Zevon still put on a heck of a live show, and this FM radio broadcast by WBCN in Boston is a fine example. The set list on this CD release (which is not the full show – see below) draws three tracks from The Envoy, six songs from Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School, a pair from Zevon’s self-titled 1976 Asylum Records debut, two songs from 1978’s Excitable Boy, and a reverent cover of the John David Souther ballad “Simple Man, Simple Dream,” from which the CD is titled. Zevon and his journeyman touring band, which included guitarist John Wood and bassist Larry Larson, provide the performances with plenty of energy and enthusiasm.

Zevon also knew how to structure and pace a live show, opening in Boston with a brace of unbridled rockers in “Johnny Strikes Up the Band,” the guitar-happy “The Overdraft,” and a raucous take of the Yardbirds’ (by way of Ernie K-Doe) “A Certain Girl” before cooling off with the mid-tempo “Let Nothing Come Between You.” From this point, Zevon sandwiches heavier tracks like “Jeannie Needs A Shooter,” “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner,” “The Envoy,” and “Jungle Work” between more nuanced songs like “Simple Man, Simple Dream” and the piano-driven “Bill Lee.” The fierce “Join Me In L.A.” evinces a deep, funky groove while “Gorilla, You’re A Desperado” is provided an appropriately jaunty, tongue-in-cheek reading. Simple Man, Simple Dream closes with the wickedly satirical “Play It All Night Long,” which offers a barbed condemnation of the myth of the simple Southern lifestyle with direct references to Lynyrd Skynyrd.

A few cavils to share – first of all, Simple Man, Simple Dream offers roughly half of Zevon’s actual concert performance that night, which ran a hefty 27 songs if you include the encore (and why wouldn’t you?) and don’t count onstage banter and introductions. The aforementioned Live In Boston 1982 sports two discs (instead of Laser Media’s single), was released earlier, offers three additional tunes from The Envoy, and includes the encore performances of “Excitable Boy,” “Werewolves of London,” “Carmelita,” and “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead.” Headless In Boston is a similar single-disc set, but it runs a healthy 19 tracks and includes the very cool encore performances.

Summing up, this is another typical shabby “copyright gap” CD release by the folks at Laser Media, a U.K. company that specializes in obscure radio broadcasts that are offered in what is the absolute cheapest packaging available, with little-or-no credits and carrying a premium price tag. A quick look at a list of the label’s releases on Discogs displays a diverse and, to the fanatical classic rock fan, mouth-watering roster of albums by artists like Yes, Thin Lizzy, Aerosmith, David Bowie, Tom Waits, Jeff Beck, Van Halen, Rory Gallagher and, yes, Warren Zevon. Overall, this is a stellar performance by Zevon and band but with mediocre sound. If you absolutely have to own it on compact disc, that’s OK but, with a little Googling, you can find the complete Boston show online and enjoy it for free!

Grade: C+

Bonus View: a couple nights later

 

Free Will - Live At Jabberwocky 1970: Previously Undiscovered Gem on Vinyl

 [review by Rev. Keith A. Gordon]

FREE WILL

Live At Jabberwocky 1970

(The Grail Record Productions, Italy)

VENUE: The Jabberwocky, Syracuse NY; July 1970.

SOUND QUALITY: Decent soundboard recording for the era, probably captured on portable reel-to-reel and put through its paces with modern mastering and studio gimcrackery. It could be worse, given the vintage of the recording, the mix awfully dense and quiet to the point of distraction. The entire album could have used more EQ to balance out the frequencies and they could have pumped up the volume with some slight compression. It’s listenable, though, provided you turn it up, and while the vocals are pretty muddy, and the guitars tend to dominate the sometimes sludge-like instrumentation, the two records capture the high spirits of the performance.   

COVER: Pretty dang swanky for a label I’ve never heard of in almost 50 years of collecting and writing about music. The Grail Record Productions out of Italy doesn’t seem to have a very large catalog – a mere four albums listed on Discogs, with three of ‘em by this band Free Will. But Live At Jabberwocky 1970 sports a handsome gatefold cover with cool cover art printed in silver ink against a black background. The inside features a bunch of color photos of the band in typical 1970s rock star poses on stage, while the rear cover lists the songs in gold ink and offers more arcane-looking, silver-printed artwork. Thick slabs of vinyl are housed in slick, high quality paper sleeves. An overall impressive job; I’ve seen major label releases that showed a lot less effort in their packaging than The Grail does here. 

TRACKLIST 

Side One: 1. Good Rockin’ Tonight • 2. Big Boss Man • 3. Someplace Is Something • 4. Handbags To Gladrags • 5. The Hunter • 6. Help Me

Side Two: 7. Carry Me Home • 8. Candy Man • 9. Big-Legged Woman • 10. Country Road • 11. Stormy Monday • 12. Swingin’ Sheperd Blues

Side Three: 13. Needle and Spoon • 14. Free Will Boogie • 15. Bright Lights, Big City

Side Four: 16. Dink Soup • 17. Mother Earth • 18. Ridin’ With the Devil 

COMMENTS: Free Will was a 1970s-era blues-rock band from upstate New York (Syracuse area) that toured clubs and colleges in the East Coast region. Formed in 1968 by singer Joe Whiting and guitarist Mark Doyle, the line-up also included rhythm guitarist George Egosarian, bassist John DeMaso, and drummer Tom Glaister. To be honest, there’s not a heck of a lot of info on the band on the old Internet – they skewed towards a bluesy sound that took advantage of Whiting’s strong vocals, mixing blues and rock covers with a handful of original tunes, and their dynamic live shows earned Free Will a loyal following in the tri-state (NY-NJ-PA) area. 

Somewhere along the line, the band’s demo tapes brought them to the attention of A&R guys at RCA Records and a subsequent record deal. The label changed the band’s name to the absurd moniker Jukin’ Bone and emphasized the “rock” side of the band’s sound across a pair of poorly-received 1972 albums – 1972’s Whiskey Women and Way Down East – neither of which sold all that well. It wasn’t for lack of trying, however, the band touring far and wide and opening for folks like ZZ Top, Freddie King, the Allman Brothers, John Mayall, the Kinks, and others, and they received rave reviews from Creem magazine. But the horrible album cover art and an obvious lack of label support sank the bands hopes and they broke up rather badly in 1973.

Somewhere down the line – most likely when Free Will/Jukin’ Bone frontman Whiting was touring with Kim Simmonds and Savoy Brown – the Italian reissue label Akarma took an interest in the 1970s-era rockers and licensed the band’s early demos for CD reissue. However, this double-live Free Will album comes courtesy of The Grail Record Productions, and although I don’t know if they have any connection to Akarma, the set was licensed from Free Will guitarist Mark Doyle (who is evidently the keeper of the Free Will/Jukin’ Bone flame), so it’s a legit effort. 

Free Will’s Live At the Jabberwocky 1970 captures the band performing a red-hot pair of sets at a long-gone Syracuse NY venue, evidently sourced from a reel-to-reel soundboard recording and offering sound typical for such antiquated technology. What the performance lacks in sonic quality, however, it more than makes up for in energy, inspiration, and talent. The set-list is a curious mix of blues and R&B standards with a handful of pretty cool original songs as well as a couple of “poppier” cover tunes thrown in for good measure. By the tail-end of the band’s second set, they begin to let their freak flag fly with longer and longer takes on tunes like Memphis Slim’s “Mother Earth” (which sounds like early Led Zeppelin) and Chris Youlden’s “Needle and Spoon” (from Savoy Brown’s 1970 album Raw Sienna, an obvious major influence on Free Will).

Live At the Jabberwocky 1970 opens with Roy Brown’s 1947 jump-blues hit “Good Rockin’ Tonight,” delivered with a slow blues grind that’s heavy on bass and circular guitar riffs, the mid-tempo song tailor-made for onstage pyrotechnics. Jimmy Reed’s “Big Boss Man,” a 1961 blues-shuffle that has been recorded by everybody from Elvis Presley to Mercury Rev, is provided some appropriately greasy guitar interplay behind Whiting’s growling, Howlin’ Wolf styled vox while Albert King’s “The Hunter” offers up all the menace of the original with Doyle’s guitar driving the deep-rooted groove. The band delivers a subtle take on James Taylor’s “Country Road,” playing up the song’s folkish leanings with an inspired Whiting vocal and lush backing instrumentation. They dip into the Jimmy Reed songbook again with “Bright Lights, Big City,” augmenting the song’s Chicago blues roots with scorching guitar and swells of instrumentation.

A cover of former Manfred Mann frontman Mike D’Abo’s “Handbags and Gladrags” (listed incorrectly in the album credits) is one of a few oddball song choices here…British singer Chris Farlowe had the original chart hit with the song in 1967 (produced by D’Abo), which would inspire Rod Stewart to cover the tune a couple of years later (with D’Abo on piano) to little or no commercial success. Whiting manages to wring every ounce of emotion out of the lyrics with a fine performance while the band eschews loud and rowdy for a more nuanced instrumental backdrop. A cover of British singer, songwriter, and actor Anthony Newley’s “Candy Man” is another outlier, the band taking the signature Sammy Davis, Jr song and beating it into a slow-burning blues-rock dirge with uranium-heavy guitars and sly vocals that completely change the vibe (if not the original intention) of the lyrics.  

Side three’s cover of Savoy Brown’s “Needle and Spoon” and the following “Free Will Boogie” (patterned after the aforementioned band’s “Savoy Brown Boogie” and incorporating tunes by Carl Perkins, Little Richard, and Jerry Lee Lewis, among others) provide nearly 23 minutes of pure booger-rock cheap thrills. Both songs feature extended jams displaying the band members’ instrumental skills (including Whiting’s honkin’ sax), both include plenty of razor-sharp fretwork and chooglin’ rhythms, and both performances come to a conclusion before you tire of hearing them. Ditto for the side four band jam “Dink Soup,” a nasty lil’ stinker with a low-slung groove, Whiting’s brassy saxwork, rolling percussion, and an overall sound that was a couple years ahead of its time, when it would have fit perfectly on FM radio playlists.   

The original material on Live At the Jabberwocky 1970 makes one sit up and take notice. Playing in the same hard rock sandbox as contemporaries like Free, Cactus, and Humble Pie, given the proper producer and some creative nurturing, the band could have ridden its songs up the charts (or at least onto FM radio). “Someplace Is Something” is a lively lil’ shuffle with slinky vocals that beat Jo Jo Gunne to the punch by a couple of years while side two’s opener, “Carry Me Home,” gets funky with some fine chicken pickin’ and a complex rhythmic backdrop that descends into a lovely chaotic mess by the end. The set-closer, “Ridin’ With the Devil,” showcases all of the band’s potential in an exhilarating seven-minute roller-coaster ride of night and day ambiance fueled by explosive, locomotive percussion, thunderbolt bass riffs, and manic guitar-mangling.  

The band’s lyrics aren’t readily discernible on this live recording, but Whiting’s vocals are impressive, the band is tight, and Doyle is an imaginative and entertaining guitarist – i.e. the band was rock ‘n’ roll clay reading for molding by the right production/label team. Sadly, it was not to be, for while Free Will was a promising gang of young hard rockers, their RCA signing, name change, and lackluster LP releases derailed whatever forward momentum the band had created with its electrifying live performances. They would get the original gang back together in 2017 to record a new album, Unfinished Business, for Akarma Records and they would be inducted into the Syracuse Music Hall of Fame at the same time. In the annals of “what could have been” in rock ‘n’ roll, Free Will were one of the good ‘uns.  Grade: B+  

For more info on Free Will, check out the Jukin’ Bone website

Bonus view:

Great Poco Release on Bootleg CD: Live from 1975

 

Poco: Live: Wollman Memorial Skating Rink New York 22^nd August 1975 (Rox Vox 2159)

Venue: As titled

Sound quality: Stunning. Significantly better than most other Rox Vox releases

Cover: digi-pak with slot inside holding 8-page booklet with photos and liner notes. Nice presentation.

Tracklist: Keep On Tryin’/ Sagebrush Serenade/ Blue Water/ Fools Gold/ Rocky Mountain Breakdown/ Bad Weather/ Hoedown/ Ride The Country/ Making Love/ Georgia Bind My Ties/ Restrain/ Railroad Days/ Sittin’ On A Fence/ High And Dry/ A Good Feelin’ To Know/ A Right Along

Comments: An article came through my Facebook newsfeed a couple of months ago with the poster taking issue with NPR's typically narrow focus and condescending attitudes towards rock, often ignoring it altogether. I'm no Deadhead, but leading off by referring to Jerry Garcia's playing on CSNY's "Teach Your Children" as "primitive" is not a good start. It's an instantly recognizable and inventive part of rock history and was recorded when Garcia had only been playing the instrument for about a week. If there is evidence that Garcia was a genius, that is exhibit A. And I wasn't the only one to notice the short shrift Rusty Young got for his innovative experiments on the pedal steel. Music coverage has expanded ~a little~ in recent years on NPR, but not so much that I didn't cancel their newsletter after giving it a second chance. Same ol' prejudice, priorities, and narrow vision. Some local NPR music programs seem to be far more adventurous than the national organization. I'm not a fan. So sue me.

 And now Rusty Young is dead, having passed away unexpectedly of a heart attack on April 14. While NPR, in their article dated Jan. 20, 2020, didn’t feel it necessary to include Young’s contribution to the expansion of the pedal steel, he will not be subject to such an oversight here. His contribution was HUGE.

 I first saw Poco in concert during their tour supporting the DeLIVErin’ album, an album I still rate among the Top 10 live albums of all time. And as good as that album was, the expanded performance at Trenton State Teacher’s College blew my 16 year-old mind away. The harmonies, the songs, the jams on medleys, and the other-worldly sound emanating from Rusty Young’s pedal steel – all of it. I looked around for a Hammond B-3 organ. It wasn’t there. That was Young coaxing organ sounds out of his pedal steel by playing chords through a Leslie cabinet when he wasn’t expertly playing more traditional runs to rock melodies.

Poco has never been the subject of bootlegger’s affections, receiving just one release during their heyday by the great TMOQ label, Country Bump (TMOQ 73036). TMOQ could certainly recognize a great live performance when they heard one. And if it’s a 1971 radio broadcast emanating from Columbia Studios in L.A., (9/30/71) all the better. It’s an album worth tracking down, but don’t expect to get it cheap. Despite being a band that never dominated the charts, Poco fans are a loyal bunch and Country Bump is one rare slab of vinyl.

Which brings us to this CD. In 1975, Poco was in a transitional period, having been reduced to a four piece with a label switch from Epic to ABC. Although their former label, Epic Records, released a contract fulfillment live album in 1976, that record was actually recorded in late 1974. With Poco’s first release on ABC, 1975’s Head Over Heels, the group seemed revitalized and it showed on their supporting tour. The album peaked on the Billboard album charts at number 43, far surpassing the previous year’s Seven, with their single, “Keep On Tryin’,” being the bands first single to break the top 100 since 1970’s “C’mon.”

Wollman Memorial Skating Rink starts off with “Keep On Tryin’” and Poco work a total of 4 songs from their current album into the set, including the fabulous (and criminally overlooked) “Georgia Bind My Ties.” Much of the rest of the set consists of more contrified material from their most recent albums (“Sagebrush Serenade,” “Blue Water,” “Bad Weather” being among the best), ending on a rockin’ note with a pairing of “A Good Feelin’ To Know” And “A Right Along,” the last being another overlooked gem by AOR radio from 1973.

If Poco had mellowed any since DeLIVErin’, it wasn’t much. This is the 2^nd best live album of the band’s career and compliments DeLIVErin’ nicely.

 Grade: A

Bonus view:

Double live CD by the Meat Puppets. Does it add up to one good one?

 

[review by Bill Glahn]

Meat Puppets: Meltdown/Attacked By Monsters (Interference INTR2CD0006)

Venue: (CD1) 9/1/88 KCRW Studios, Santa Monica, CA (CD2) 4/16/93 KCRW studios, Santa Monica, CA

Sound Quality: very good low generation broadcast recordings, mildly compressed

Cover: 8-page booklet and tray card in slimline double jewel case

Tracklist: (CD1) Introduction-In Love/ Wish Upon A Stone/ Light/ Touchdown King/ Bali Ha’i/ Automatic Mojo/ He’ll Have To Go/ Magic Toy Missing/ Pass Me By/ Meltdown (CD2) Introduction/ Lake Of Fire/ Violet Eyes/ Never To Be Found/ Attacked By Monsters/ El Paso City/ White Sport Coat

Comments: 

The phone is no friend of Curt Kirkwood's. Too often, the tidings it bears are foul. He calls them “incomings from Tempe.” They go like this: Your brother's wife overdosed this morning; she's dead. Your brother got busted again last night, and he told the cops he was you. Your brother showed up at my house yesterday with a crack pipe and a bag of needles, and he looks like hell. Your brother took off from rehab. Your brother's holed up in a Motel 6 on the Black Canyon Freeway, smoking rock like it's judgment day. (Austin Chronicle, Shooting Star, January 1, 1999)

That was just the first paragraph of the revealing article in the Austin Chronicle documenting the band’s decent. You can read the whole sordid affair on this link. 

The last 2 albums that the original line-up would make until 2019 were the ominously titled Too High To Die (1994) and No Joke! (1995). The first of those two yielded the band’s only chart single, “Backwater.” The second, despite a crafty production by the Butthole Surfers’ Paul Leary (a man experienced in navigating minefields in a band prone to drug excess with newfound major label cash), barely dented Billboard’s Top 200 album chart. No Joke!, may have sounded great, but the subject matter was something radio wouldn’t touch.

As unauthorized live CDs go, there isn't a whole lot around on the Meat Puppets. That makes this release something of a surprise.

Meltdown/Attacked By Monsters presents two radio broadcasts from college station KCRW in Santa Monica. The first in 1988 when the band were darlings of college radio and the alternative press, the second as a major label act on the verge of stardom – in no small amount due to a guest appearance by the Kirkwood brothers on Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged session.

On the 1988 broadcast, the Meat Puppets appear fairly focused on playing material for their album-in-progress, Monsters, with 4 tracks from that release and one more that would appear as a bonus track on a later CD re-issue of that album. There’s a couple of tracks from previous albums included in the set and a couple offbeat covers including “He’ll Have To Go,” performed in a way Jim Reeves fans couldn’t possibly envision. But a significant portion of the disc is taken up by the band doing their best to be “witty.” And failing. The sorriest example being the rather stupid rendition of “Bali Ha’i” that takes up the first 2 minutes of track 5 followed by 5 more minutes of a ludicrous conversation about Brian Wilson. “Brian Wilson led the band, Brian & the Family Stone and their big hit, ‘Stand.’” Please. And the DJ, of course, laughs at every witticism and plays along. She obviously feels the hipness of their presence and wants them back. Unfortunately these bits of comedy, which you will never want to hear again, are not indexed separately from the songs. There is some relief that the next track, a blistering version of “Automatic Mojo,” is a stand-alone track. As is the take on “He’ll Have To Go.” Then back to inane conversation tacked onto “Magic Toy Missing.” Disc one contains some brilliant moments and far too many cringe-worthy ones. On to disc two.

The 1993 broadcast repeats the formula of not separating songs from conversation, only it's much shorter in length. Sure, you get the song you’ve been waiting all this time to hear, “”Lake of Fire.” And it concludes with an acoustic version of Marty Robbins’ “White Sport Coat and a Pink Carnation” before the all-too-precious DJ concludes the session. But it’s a totally uninspired version. The drugs are, apparently, wearing off.

In totality, the combined length of BOTH discs is a bit under 72 minutes. The amount of music presented is about half that. With a lot of editing, this might amount to a fine vinyl LP. Considering that the cost would be about the same as this 2CD without the bullshit, maybe some enterprising vinyl company will do just that.

Grade: despite the excellent sound, this gets a C-

Bonus view: a full concert from 1992. Great sound and visuals.