Atlantic, 1976
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $1.50
It’s not like I needed this best
of—which highlights the choicest cuts from Prine’s first four records—it’s just
that I wanted it. And because
seriously who doesn’t love a fucking stellar greatest hits collection? When I’m
milling about and want to hear something from a particular artist I’ll almost
always reach for a greatest hits (or personally thrown-together “best of” iTunes
playlist) to just bask in and enjoy the hits. Because goddamnit sometimes you
just want the HITS. Maybe that’s a taboo thing, to recommend someone start with
a best-of before undertaking a prolific artist’s discography. That’s what I’d
recommend with Prine. If it were Guided by Voices or something I’d say “Whoa
there, don’t just reach for the Greatest Hits collection, even though it’s
pretty good, you need Bee Thousand and
Alien Lanes back to back, for like a
week. Come and see me when you’re done with that.” Prine’s albums all kind of
feel like collections so maybe that’s why it’s so easy to just put this one and
say “yup.” Because every song is a goddamn winner.
K, 1991
Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2007
Price: $.25
The second Courtney Love 7” is the same sort of personality-less mess as the
first, but with slightly better production. The guitar is crisper, the drums
aren’t as muddy, the vocals more clear. The songs are still a shapeless,
cluttered mess with the sole purpose of proving that anyone can start a band and that supreme talent is not necessarily
required. Which is a powerful and important thing in itself, and the thing that
resonates most from these first couple of Courtney Love releases on K’s
International Pop Underground series.
K, 1990
Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2007
Price: $2
It’s sad that I always have to preface the first transmissions from Lois Maffeo
as “Not THAT Courtney Love.” This first Courtney Love 7” is about as twee as it
gets. Ramshackle guitar strums and drums, airy vocals singing nearly tuneless
melodies over the void. I don’t know when reality punched me in the face,
because listening to these clumsy songs about crushes and hurt feelings I’m just like
“Ungggggg.” And I distinctly remember that I used to like this 7” but I can’t
remember how.
Columbia, 1975
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $3
I feel mega guilty admitting that the first reason I wanted this was because
it’s the cover Ween parodied on their sophomore LP The Pod. And I wished I owned The
Pod on vinyl. And then the distant second reason for picking this up was
merely because I love Leonard Cohen and I needed to make sure I at least had
“Suzanne” and “So Long, Marianne” on vinyl. And of course I already have both
of those songs because I have Songs of
Leonard Cohen but even though four
songs from this best of are on that record (I can only assume because it is a great record), there are eight I didn’t
have and I’m the sort of rube who’d rather listen to a best of when I’m just
looking to put something on for the wife and I to listen to while making
dinner. Which is what I just did! Chicken Tikka Masasla on the menu tonight. I
swear, I’m surprised whoever the underboss is that runs Indian food restaurants
nationwide and make obscene amounts of cash charging $14 for a dish that costs
like $4 to make per serving hasn’t cracked down on Cook’s Illustrated for
publishing a more than serviceable recipe. Or maybe $14 Chicken Tikka Masala is
the price we pay for all those awful years of British colonization. But HEY.
I’m an AMERICAN. I had NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT SHIT. Anyway, this record is
great. Because fucking duh. On the back Cohen writes a little blurb about each
song, and I REALLY like it when bands do that and tell you like, where the song
was written, who it’s about, all those juicy details that a lot of songwriters
things lends their song a sense of mystery
if it’s left cryptic. Fuck that. Unsurprisingly, most of these songs are about
ladies Mr. Cohen has banged. Good for him. Seriously, if you want my Chicken
Tikka Masala recipe I’ll give it to you. It’s surprisingly easy, and though I
think the Garam Masala I got at the Wedge has too much cinnamon in it, it’s
still really really tasty and tastes
even better the next day on your lunch break.
Atlantic, 1975
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $1.50
Though Common Sense was John Prine’s
highest charting album in his heyday, it’s probably the least outstanding of
his first five records. Nevertheless, it’s still a great one. Gone are the
political elements of his eponymous debut, the bluegrassy elements of Diamonds in the Rough, and the sassy
bite from Sweet Revenge in favor of
smoother corners. The fun is still there though. There’s something so joyful
about Prine’s music that makes him so damn listenable. The smoothed out rough
edges lead to some really fantastic arrangements (the title track just sounds so damn good) and though most of
the record is enjoyable without being overly memorable, tracks like “Come Back
to Us Barbara Lewis Hare Krisna Beauregard,” “Wedding Day in Funeralville”
(which was fantastically covered by Conor Oberst on the Prine tribute Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows), and
the huge-sounding and plain fucking awesome standout “Saddle in the Rain.” The
horns on that one make me all “Aww hell yeah” every time it comes on the John
Prine greatest hits mix I have on my iPod (which is just the Great Days compilation whittled down to
one disc’s worth of gems).
Atlantic, 1972
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $2
John Prine’s sophomore LP is pretty much just as good as his debut. This time
around he rolls in some bluegrassy elements (mandolins and dobros pepper the
landscape) and retains the witty social commentary that separates him from the
rest of the songwriters who rushed to fill the space paved by Bob Dylan
breaking it big. On Diamonds in the Rough
Prine delivers another excellent anti-Vietnam tune with “The Great Compromise”
and one of his best sad-bastard ballads in the lovely (if forlorn) “Souveniers.”
In between there’s plenty of the country fried shit-kicking that tends to
populate Prine’s albums (the one’s I’ve heard anyway). The way Prine manages to
have fun and still delivers songs that shake your right down to your soul makes
it kind of depressing that he’s not treated like a national treasure.
Columbia, 1975
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $4
Remember that scene in High Fidelity
where Jack Black’s face drops when the guy tells him he doesn’t own Blonde on Blonde? I was that guy. For years. I’ve had plenty of opportunities
to acquire a copy, but just…haven’t. So I caved. And I’m listening to it and
thinking to myself “Why the hell did I wait so long to pick this up?” because
it has all of my favorite Bob Dylan songs. No lie. The ones I really, truly
can’t live without. “One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later),” “Visions of
Johanna,” “Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again,” and “Sad Eyed
Lady of the Lowlands” all rank right up there on the list of songs I can’t live
without. Track by track it’s a masterpiece but the cohesion is what makes it a
Masterpiece. With the capital M and all that. One of those albums to be gushed
over for all time for the laser focus of its vision and the seamless blending
of Dylan’s devastatingly great lyrics and the rollicking jams achieved by
Robbie Robertson’s guitar, Al Cooper’s organ, and the tireless work of the
group of Nashville session musicians Dylan cobbled together to make this such a
special thing. It’s an album that kills me moment by moment. The way the piano
builds up and crashes into the last chorus of “One of Us Must Know (Sooner or
Later).” Every single line of “Visions of Johanna” which made me want to be a
writer when I was 16 and discovering music, literature, and heartbreak
simultaneously. The delicateness of the third side of the record between “Just
Like a Woman” and “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” that always comes as such a
surprise to me because A.) I forget those five songs are there and B.) I forget
how good those five songs are that by the end of “Obviously 5 Believers” I’m
like “Oh yeah there’s one more song” and that it’s probably my favorite song on
the record (and the reference to “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” in “Sara” from
Desire adds another layer to the
track). But you know, it’s Blonde on Blonde
and I’m just gonna cop-out and say this record speaks for itself. You’ve heard
it, you know it, you love it or hate it or you’re one of those folks who says
“I don’t see what the big deal is pff it’s not that great” the same way certain
insufferable film students talk about Citizen
Kane because it’s cooler to seem like you’re above the commonly accepted
masterpieces. Where one would find enough fault with this record to dismiss it
is beyond me.
Here's Cat Power's cover of "Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again." Partly because it's hard to find decent versions of Dylan tracks on youtube, mostly because I really love this cover and recall fondly the month and a half I spent spinning the I'm Not There soundtrack which is really what got me into Dylan in the first place.
The Byrds – Sweetheart
of the Rodeo
Columbia, 1968
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $4
One of the things I really miss about Lawrence is not getting to listen to
KJHK. Not to say that I always enjoyed what KJHK was playing, but upon getting
in my car the very first thing I did after turning on the engine was flip to
90.7 and see what was on. Sometimes you catch the middle of one of your
favorite songs and establish a sort of trust with the on-air DJ and choose them
as your guide for your errands. Sometimes you can tell it’s some twerp with
their macbook hooked up to the input because the sound quality is all off, it’s
playing some skronky laptop electronica, and you can hear that sound iTunes
makes when it’s done ripping a CD (that sounds like I’m being hyperbolic but no
lie, I’ve heard that happen on more than one occasion). Over the last couple
years, I always seemed to be in transit whenever Vince Meserko was DJing, which
was really convenient because he is one of my favorite DJs that station has produced
(and in my head, Vince, Nick Dormer, Nick Spacek, and Sean Galloway are KJHK’s
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse…Rockpocalypse? Arockalypse?). Not only were his
rotation shows gold, but he did a blues show called Juke House that was
fantastic too. Currently he hosts a show called Hickory Wind that is his masterpiece
that broadcasts on Monday nights from 8-10 PM. It just seemed like every single
time I got in the car for an extended period of time, that show was on the
radio. I’d be driving on and town, getting in and out of the car, doing errand
stuff and I’d return to find Hickory Wind in the middle of some excellent
folk/country/Americana gem.
The point is, I feel like that radio show really revived my
nascent love for Americana. I went on a huge alt-country kick when I started
college in 2004 that culminated with a year-plus long obsession with Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and never really
ended. It waned, for sure, but my love of quality down to earth songwriting and
an errant fiddle is as much a part of me as my love for homemade pizza and my
dog. And yet, as much as I read about Sweetheart
of the Rodeo, I think I’d listened to it once or twice. Gram Parsons was
just a name. And then I heard “Return of the Grievous Angel” and something came
alive inside of me. Something built in me long before I ever started appreciating
music on my own. It was the Merle Haggard and Patsy Cline played so frequently
during my childhood and the distrust of anyone who responded to “Anything but
country” when asked what kind of music they liked. Because seriously, what kind
of bullshit is that? That’s worse than “A little bit of everything” in terms of
being non-committal for the sake of trying to be as agreeable as possible.
That’s a down right shame because despite pop country being the nadir of modern
music, there is still plenty of
twangy shit to get down on.
And Sweetheart of the Rodeo has
something to do with that. The story of this record is way too long to get into
here, but the mythical quality of it was something that I always really truly
enjoyed. A psych-tinged jangle pop band best known for their covers of Bob
Dylan songs hooking up with an impossibly young rich, druggy genius and
basically creating country rock, alt-country, and modern Americana. It’s a
brilliant display of fusion. And sure the recording process was a disaster (as
you’d expect) and Parsons was booted from the band before the thing was even
finished, but the final product is just so great. A blend of country classics,
traditionals, a couple of Parsons-penned originals (including the just plain
outstanding “Hickory Wind,” which the wife even said “Ooo, I know this one”)
and the just sublimely inspired Bob Dylan penned closing track “Nothing was
Delivered” that serves as a culmination of every track that came before it and
validates this whole weird experiment as something incredibly important. I feel
bad that I don’t really know much of the Byrds or their discography, but using
this as an endpoint (as Sweetheart is
commonly known as their last great album) I would love to trace their lineage.
Tracing Yoni Wolf’s rap career is a lot like charting the course of Evolution.
If Clouddead was the primordial ooze, Oaklandazulasylum
was where he grew stubby legs and crawled out of the sea and onto terra firma.
This and the sole Hymie’s Basement album are the first phase of the Yoni Wolf
that put out three of my favorite albums: Elephant
Eyelash, Alopecia, and Eskimo Snow.
Those three albums serve as a sort of brutally honest triptych of the artist as
a lovable asshole featuring songwriting as good as anyone writing songs in the
mid 00s. Oaklandazulasylum is Wolf’s
first album as Why? and it plays like a series of sketches laced with a handful
of honest to God gems (“Early Whitney,” “Afterschool America,” “Dirty Glass,”
“A Little Titanic” to name a few). Here Wolf’s writing becomes more coherent
and direct without sacrificing the cryptic lyrics he’d been churning out
before. The directness of the lyrics teaming up with the sweetness of the
melodies and the potent imagery on “Early Whitney” is the clear turning point. A
sort of blueprint for the shape of Why? to come. I don’t know why it always
feels so inclined to analyze Why?’s discography. It always happens any time I
try to sit down and write about one of their albums. Maybe it’s because I saw
Why? perform an absolutely gorgeous version of “Dirty Glass” and didn’t even
recognize the song because the words to the original are so buried in
electronic haze. But that version of the song was so gorgeous, sung by the two
ladies in the band. The fact that these songs stand up to constant
reinterpretation and sound just as good or better (they all seem to sound
insanely profound when Yoni plays them solo on a keyboard) is a rare and
special thing and I don’t know where I got obsessed but it happened and though
I hated Mumps, Etc despite like fifty
listens over the span of a month, I ain’t giving up on Why?.
Arista, 1975
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2013
Price: $2.50
True story: I don’t think I’ve ever heard a single song from this album. I
mean, I’m sure I’ve heard one or two
of them, I spent 8 years in a college town listening to and working for a
college radio station so one of these tunes slipped in SOMEWHERE. More importantly,
given the previously given information how did I so totally miss Patti Smith’s Horses. My only answer is that there is
just too much fucking music to be dealt with and sometimes you just gotta get
around to what you can, when you can, even the most influential albums of all
time. At this point all I have is first impressions of an album with an
outstanding amount of depth considering the when it came out and what it
preceded. The most inspiring thing is how much weirder it is than what all the
other proto-punks were producing in the mid-70s. Sure the Velvet Underground
and Television were doing stuff no one had ever done but what Horses does must have made people’s
heads bleed. Even today it sounds edgy, and this album came out ALMOST FORTY
YEARS AGO.
Tom Verlaine's guitar work on "Break It Up" edged out the rest of the competition to make this my favorite track on the record. I love how every song on this album sounds seconds away from falling apart. I suppose a lot of that has to do with John Cale's production which is proactive enough to keep everything in order and hands off enough to let this thing really unfurl into a chaotic masterpiece.
