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Yellow Moon

The Neville Brothers. A&M 1990, Audio CD, $5.00

A review of The Neville Brothers’ Yellow Moon

Sometime in the late 80s or early 90s, I become interested in Daniel Lanois‘ music. Here was an enigmatic producer who had worked with Brian Eno, U2, Peter Gabriel, Robbie Robertson, Jon Hassell and Bob Dylan. For each, he had forged important, sometimes career-changing records, yet somehow he had put his own unmistakable stamp on each record. Regardless of genre differences, it’s quite possible to immediately identify a Daniel Lanois produced album when you hear it. It’s a very specific style: there’s a groundedness, a deep connection to all archetypal American music, a solid base in folk, funk and the blues, an earnest honesty, a certain electronic sheen- slightly industrial, but never jarring, a lo-fi hiss, a generous and well-balanced depth of field, a core musicality that shines through everything. Above all, Daniel Lanois has a deep repect for each performer’s musicianship.

The Neville Brothers – best known to most listeners because of brother Aaron’s unusual high tenor – had a patchy history of local New Orleans success prior to constituting themselves as an R&B outfit in 1975. Commercial success, however, remained elusive through subsequent studio and live albums. In 1988/89, they teamed up with Daniel Lanois and his then-engineer Malcolm Burn (now a renowned producer in his own right) to record what would become their career-high.

A deeply unique record in many ways, Yellow Moon is an atmospheric CD. Full of percussion, Lanois’ trademark dark synth pads and Charles Neville’s saxophone, the sound is a sort of lo-fi funk with a strong pan-African identity. There’s a definitive version of ‘A Change is Gonna Come’ here, two out-of-left-field but excellent Dylan covers (‘With God On Our Side’ and ‘The Ballad of Hollis Brown’) and a number of brilliant self-penned tracks.

While the radio single ‘Sister Rosa’ sounds slightly dated today due to its ‘early rap’ vocals, the most outstanding piece of music here is of course the title track. ‘Yellow Moon’ is a brilliant piece of sophisticated, bluesy, swamp-reggae, carried by Hammond licks, a tireless, lively bass line and propelled by Aaron’s plaintive, longing vocal.

Is she hid out with another? | Or is she trying to get back home? | Is she wrapped up in another’s arms? | Or is the girl somewhere all alone?

Like all the best pop music, this is pure emotional pain wrapped in transcendent musical beauty. It’s the kind of song that you have to play again and again when you first hear it. The sort of song that you’ll have in your headphones, late at night, and suddenly you’re standing in the middle of your living room swaying, with your eyes closed. The rest of the record – which is truly excellent, fantastic even – does fade slightly against the bright shooting star of this song. It’s a traditional R&B track at heart, something Sam Cooke might have written, timeless and traditional despite its electronic touches. Lanois, as always, finds how to be the conduit for this music and elevates great R&B to become part of the canon of classic American music, transcending the genre.

The Dylan covers mentioned above are quite incredible, too. ‘With God on Our Side’ becomes a gospel meditation, all low synth pads – the music itself is self-effacing here, almost not there at all – as a frame for Aaron’s heartfelt vocal. It’s a genuine surprise to hear this song – part of the core folk repertoire – so significantly transformed here. The Nevilles make it their own. ‘The Ballad of Hollis Brown’ is a lo-fi blues track, a dark, driving story song with an excellent slide guitar. Both tracks are great examples of how Aaron Neville’s voice, so fraught with adult contemporary meaning post Linda Ronstadt and one too many Christmas albums, can sound organic and authentic in the right context.

The Nevilles also do a version of A.P. Carter’s ‘Will the Circle Be Unbroken,’ at first glance a hard-to-believe pick. But in the context of Lanois wall of amorphous synth sounds and a simple heartbeat thud as the backbeat, the brothers’ four-part harmonies affirm what you already know: American music really vanquishes racial boundaries and is rooted in a single sound. Johnny Cash and Elvis knew this, and so do the Neville Brothers and Daniel Lanois.

Hearing Yellow Moon 20 years after it was released continues to be a great joy. For those of you who don’t know it, this anniversary is a good time to get acquainted with a classic of the American repertoire.

The Beatles Stereo Box Set

The Beatles. EMI 2009, Audio CD, $147.75

Is there a more valuable, interesting and diverse catalogue in popular music than this one? In twelve records, the Beatles changed the entire face of music several times over, imprinting their songs on our culture in a way that transcends generations, politics, location and taste preferences.

I think of music as belonging – at the very highest, surface level – to one of two categories: music bought by music lovers, and music bought by people who don’t buy music. People who don’t buy music may listen to the radio or encounter music in other ways in their daily lives, but they never purchase music. Their CD collections, even when they are adults, consist of roughly 15 CDs, most of which were birthday presents from well-meaning but misguided friends. You’ll find an alarmingly high density of artists like Queen, Dire Straits and Hootie and the Blowfish in their CD shelves; also U2, Coldplay and maybe an older Radiohead CD that’s a little dusty.

The Beatles are the one act that consistently and powerfully transcends both types of musical public. The fact that their career together was so short and eventful, of course, contributes immensely to this: even people who aren’t particularly interested in the biographies of musicians know, in broad terms, the story of John, Paul, George and Ringo. The Beatles created their own archetypes.

The music is peerless in more ways that I can enumerate here. I’m not going to describe each record because – if you haven’t – you simply need to hear them all. Even the Beatles’ throw-away album filler tracks are extraordinarily evolved compositions, well-produced and fabulously entertaining.

The remasters, so memorably released on 09-09-09, are tastefully and carefully done. They are subtle in ways that other remasters are not: following a careful audio restoration process that took several years to complete, they are not just louder but provide new insights into the music. As a general rule, it does feel as though audio cobwebs have been removed. Where the previous, 1980s CD reissues sounded tinny, thin and frequently harsh, these sound full, balanced and well-rounded while never lulling you into a false sense of security. There’s more space here, better stereo imaging, more depth of field. The vocals are clearer and have less sibilant distortion. And McCartney’s Höfner bass is a revelation on most pieces, as these new editions finally do it justice and allow it to anchor the music properly, something the old CDs never managed to convey.

I have spent many days listening to the Beatles remasters over the last two months, and there have been any number of new discoveries and insights. I’m particularly impressed by the many ‘new’ album tracks that I wasn’t as aware of before. I suppose this is a good illustration of how the 1980s CDs gave me listening fatigue. I feel as if there are many songs that I’m really only encountering fully now that I have the remastered discs.

For example, I’ve enjoyed Magical Mystery Tour tremendously, including such album tracks as ‘Blue Jay Way’ and ‘Your Mother Should Know,’ neither of which I had consciously encountered before. I’ve also reconnected with Let It Be, which – contrary to popular opinion – I think is the better record in the Phil Spector version (rather than McCartney’s revisionist release from a few years ago). For example, I think that ‘I Me Mine’ is an extraordinary song that should get far more attention than it does.

On the whole, the remasters have brought the Beatles into the digital age, made them digitally listenable, and have provided countless hours of enjoyment. The subtlety and skill applied in the creation of these new versions cannot be praised too highly.

I think this is essential music, and every household even remotely interested in popular music should own these records. You will find that they transcend age, taste and personality differences.

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Despite the ongoing controversy over the remaining Beatles’ reluctance to see their music released digitally, a digital version of sorts will be released just in time for Christmas:

The Beatles [USB]

The Beatles. EMI 2009, Audio CD, $289.25

I simply bought the individual CDs on the day of release, instead of the box set. I felt that I didn’t particularly need the box and the poster.

Finally, there’s also The Beatles in Mono, a box set of the original ten or so records that were released in mono. It appears that the Beatles themselves only attended the mono mixing sessions of their LPs. EMI has made these mixes available as a separate limited edition box set whose packaging is more elaborate and historically authentic. I’ve heard some of them and can’t say that I was all that impressed. They are great-sounding remasters, too; it’s just that I’m used to the Beatles in stereo.

Incredibly, this CD is out of print, and even Amazon only seems to have sketchy availability through zShops. So I can’t even provide a “buy” link. David Sylvian is the former lead singer and songwriter of Japan. Robert Fripp is the mastermind behind King Crimson. Sylvian is known for his introspective, spiritual, seeking lyrics and self-effacing music-making. Fripp was exploring a more industrial style in the early/mid 1990s. Together, they made one of the most remarkable rock records I know.

Using elements of funk, industrial music, noise and combining Fripp’s angular guitars with a deep, rumbling, sharp, melodious Chapman Grand Stick played by Trey Gunn, this is both enlightened meditation and purely enjoyable music, like a jam band with a spiritual purpose. Sylvian, often seen primarily as a singer/songwriter, should not be under-estimated as a musician/composer, and much of what’s heard here is the interplay of a band. For me, it’s definitely guitar-dominated, but Gunn’s Stick is also instrumental in defining the sound here; this record is a precursor to the subsequent next incarnation of King Crimson, also featuring Gunn from about 1994 onwards.

Find the ladder | Climb the ladder | To God’s Monkey [...] Can’t breathe the air | It’s too thin | This far from heaven | This far from heaven

Sylvian writes introspective, mysterious, strange, often darkly funny lyrics. His voice, low like the best British male singers (think Bryan Ferry, Curt Smith of Tears for Fears or Mark Hollis of Talk Talk) is calm, clear, articulate, authoritative. This is a kind of post-rock: if you know Sylvian’s and Fripp’s histories, it’s clear that this record is post everything: neither rock nor ironic retro; rather, the culmination of a long journey through pop, rock, noise, song structure, vocals, instrumentals, improvisation – in short, a clearly articulated and conscious decision, “this is what we can offer you now.” It’s an authentic statement, uncompromising in many ways, not of its time, but also playful because of the songs, often great songs with smart lyrics and memorable melodies, and the impeccable musicianship. Nothing here is left to chance, not the writing, nor the arranging or playing.

Like Fripp’s work with Crimson and Sylvian’s solo work, there are several very long pieces here. ‘Firepower,’ ‘20th Century Dreaming’ and ‘Darshan’ each run more than 10 minutes. Like an industrial jam band of sorts, they bring enlightenment through repetition, a very Eastern-religion concept. 5 minutes into Darshan’s 17 minutes, you realize it’s put you on another plane, that the music floats you like a good DJ mix, and while it’s primarily rhythm, there’s enough audio interest to keep you listening. Like other music meant to induce a trance (and I’m not using the word here to denote the dance genre but in a more basic, ritualistic sense), Darshan manages to make you feel like the warm envelope of a blanket is being pulled from you when it ends. And, somehow, you’re left out in the cold, robbed of Fripp’s intense soloing and Sylvian’s increasingly evolved, odd and challenging synth pad harmonies.

Fitting, then, that it should end with a slow, ambient number that’s all Sylvian’s keyboards. Orchestral, calm, pastoral, like early Aphex Twin or The KLF’s best work.

If you can’t find The First Day anywhere, Sylvian’s two-disc retrospective Everything And Nothing (also discontinued, but more readily available) has some of the songs and is, without question, worth getting:

Everything and Nothing

David Sylvian. Virgin Records Us 2000, Audio CD, $7.40

This Time

Dwight Yoakam. Reprise / Wea 1993, Audio CD, $5.41

A review of Dwight Yoakam’s This Time (1993)

Even though I had Hillbilly Deluxe and Cadillacs, Guitars Etc. Etc. on vinyl in the 80s and liked them (really, they provided my first ‘country music’ experiences that weren’t related to the radio and didn’t result in fierce episodes of doubt and self-loathing), This Time occupies a special place in my heart. I believe it to be the pinnacle of Dwight’s output in the 90s, accessible hard Bakersfield honky tonk mixed in with fabulous, credible, truly sad weepers. I think “Two Doors Down” and “Home For Sale” are two of the loveliest country ballads ever recorded. All material here was written either by Yoakam alone or together with Kostas. The playing is top-notch throughout, and the Hammond B3 on some of the slower numbers is downright inspired – Hammonds this intense haven’t been heard since Jon Lord played Bach in Deep Purple. It’s a crime Amazon is currently selling this for $6.99. There should be an option to pay more, voluntarily.

461 Ocean Blvd. [Deluxe Edition]

Eric Clapton. Polydor / Umgd 2004, Audio CD, $12.99

A review of Eric Clapton’s 461 Ocean Boulevard (1974)

I don’t really remember where I first got this, just that I first heard it when I was a teenager. Prior to this, I had only read about Clapton – the legendary British guitar slinger whose fans had spray-painted “Clapton is God” on an Underground station during his tenure with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and who was commonly viewed as ‘right up there’ with Jimi Hendrix and other A list guitarists.

461 Ocean Boulevard didn’t really sound like that guy – or at least not like what I imagine that guy would sound like. It’s groovy, funky, low-key but energetic, and it has the energy of a great ensemble record, not a self-absorbed solo effort by a guitar god. Recorded in Miami in 1974, the title refers to the address of Clapton’s residence there during that period.

I think this music has held up very well over the years – it’s a kind of bluesy rock masterpiece that shows Clapton’s wide-ranging musical interests. Long before punk made it de rigueur to have reggae influences, this record features the famous version of “I Shot the Sheriff.” Other standouts are Elmore James’ “I Can’t Hold Out,” Robert Johnson’s “Steady Rolling Man” and Johnny Otis’ “Willie and the Hand Jive.”

I love the subtleties in this: how Clapton’s guitar is always the most tasteful thing you’ve ever heard – not too flashy, not too subdued, not too distorted; how Clapton’s voice – often a point of discussion, but actually quite strong here – blends with Yvonne Elliman’s (and the band’s) background vocals. 461 Ocean Boulevard is a perfect demonstration of what was great about classic rock when it was firmly rooted in its rock ‘n roll and r&b roots.

Short Sharp Shocked

Michelle Shocked. Mighty Sound 2003, Audio CD, $99.98

A review of Michelle Shocked’s Short Sharp Shocked (1988)

Some of the most memorable music from the 1980s, for me at least, stems from this album (and that’s perhaps because none of it sounds like the 80s at all). Michelle Shocked appeared, pretty much out of nowhere, in the mid-80s after she was “field recorded” at a folk festival on a Sony Walkman (the recording was eventually released as her first album, The Texas Campfire Tapes). Michelle had a beautiful, blues/country voice, big Dr. Martens boots, skinny jeans, a short haircut and all that mystique of having lived on a houseboat in Holland and as a squatter. She was generally both politically to the far left of the spectrum and very musical at the same time, something I remember finding quite irresistible back in the day.

Short Sharp Shocked, her second record, was a polished affair, as country as it was folk or rock. The opener, “When I Grow Up,” has served as my preferred track to test new stereos for years – the rumbling double bass has to be heard to be believed. What makes Michelle Shocked special, though, are her songwriting abilities – and her voice. Pitched slightly deeper than your average country singer from Texas, she had more of the blues (and, perhaps, less of the victim) in her voice. She also sounded much, much wiser and more experienced than her 26 years when Short Sharp Shocked appeared in 1988. The story goes that Michelle Shocked had seen both the inside of a mental institution and traveled the world – both things that come out in the lyrics here.

In a way, Michelle is the fore-runner from “my” generation (who came of age in the 1980s) to prioneer the so-called alt-country movement. Where Dwight Yoakam revolutionized country music by staying firmly in a country idiom, Michelle Shocked re-rooted folk and rock as Americana. Of course, this isn’t surprising: Short Sharp Shocked was produced by Pete Anderson, Yoakam’s long-time guitar cohort and producer. Listen to “(Making The Run To) Gladewater,” where she’s a perfect female ringer for Yoakam’s California honky tonk. Her country timing is impeccable, and listening to her you know that she’s spent countless hours making beer runs on the bumpy backs of pickup trucks across rugged Texas terrain.

Above all, though, Michelle Shocked is about her activism – even her introspection on tracks like the radio single “Anchorage” is essentially commentary on the state of the world. The “Leroy says…” sequence in its lyrics is both an indictment of certain life choices and a passionate feminist statement. “Fogtown,” the hidden track at the end, establishes her punk cred by virtue of having been recorded with punk band MDC. The original “Fogtown” appeared on Texas Campfire and is a lot gentler, but its re-make here shows Michelle as versatile in the way of a troubadour, a bard for whom the message is what’s important, not any false notion of stylistic integrity. (Plus, she always looked more punk than country, anyway.)

Shocked’s long journey out of record label ’slavery’ is well-documented on Wikipedia and elsewhere. She now owns her complete catalogue and continues to evolve as a musician, regularly releasing the kinds of records she reportedly wanted to make when she was still with a major label – like a gospel CD.

For me, it’s a toss-up whether her magnum opus is Short Sharp Shocked or Arkansas Traveler, which features cameos from such luminaries as Uncle Tupelo, Taj Mahal and Clarence Gatemouth Brown. If Shocked is her early work of countrified political activism, Arkansas showcases a more fully-formed Americana renaissance woman who easily collaborates with the previous generation while simultaneously forging a new genre (it’s key to remember that Arkansas Traveler came out in 1992 – well before alt country became a genre people talked about).

One Night Stand! Sam Cooke Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963

Sam Cooke. RCA 2005, Audio CD, $7.11

A review of Sam Cooke’s One Night Stand! (1963)

Sam Cooke is commonly thought of as one of the originators of soul music and also gets frequent mention as a role model for black entrepreneurs in the entertainment industry. A very gifted singer, he ‘broke free’ from singing gospel with the Soul Stirrers and had a short but important secular solo career which ended abruptly when he was murdered in 1964 at age 33.

One Night Stand! is incredible in many ways: as a document of an actual live performance, it removes the manicured studio sheen and presents Cooke at the peak of his vocal power – raw, a little rough around the edges, but spot-on and beautifully contoured throughout. He sings perfectly pitched – and, as an early soul singer, has a knack for presenting the ‘true meaning’ of saccharine pop songs with his voice alone. Many of the tunes here were written with a (white) radio audience in mind, and Cooke did have some crossover success. This nascent musical style, finding its way at the edge of R&B and ‘white’ crooner pop, establishes one of the core tenets of rock ‘n roll and soul music: the song’s not really about what the song claims to be about. Where the lyrics can’t express ’sex’ and hard living, the tone of the voice can. And Sam Cooke is brilliant at this, preserving the song’s radio potential while everyone at the live show knows – wink wink – what we’re really talking about.

I think that everyone from Aretha Franklin to Marvin Gaye, Van Morrison to Rob Stewart has tried to channel Sam Cooke. His few available recordings belie his importance as inspiration for much of rock ‘n soul. Artful rough edges, vocalizations without lyrics, just the right amount of audience involvement… it’s all here for the first time. (Well, it’s also in James Brown live albums of roughly the same time, to be fair, and in Ray Charles.)

One Night Stand! is certainly not a perfect record. The band – though powerful and (in the remastered version here) great-sounding – feels a little lost at times. Cooke will start off a tune, and you can hear the rhythm guitarist trying to find his way for a bar or two. I’m not sure if this was the Harlem Square Club’s house band, but they sound a little ‘under-rehearsed’ here. It’s testament to Sam Cooke’s powerful singing that this doesn’t distract at all from the music.

Violator (Deluxe Edition CD+DVD)

Depeche Mode. Rhino / Wea 2006, Audio CD, $18.81

A review of Depeche Mode’s Violator (1990)

It’s hard to remember, from today’s perspective, just how powerful Depeche Mode’s Violator was when it came out in 1990. It neatly, elegantly bridged the gap between punk and mainstream pop while at the same time articulating an aesthetic that somehow convincingly melded the blues to the band’s meticulously programmed synthpop. For the first time on a DM record, guitars occupy a somewhat equal space with sequencers and synthesizers. There isn’t a weak track here, and some are true masterpieces of the genre: “Personal Jesus,” “Sweetest Perfection,” “Waiting for the Night,” “Policy of Truth,” “World in my Eyes.” These are beacons of songcraft and electronic production: Alan Wilder’s production is tight, focused and imaginative – much of Depeche Mode’s ‘classic’ sound, from Some Great Reward to Songs of Faith and Devotion, is due to Wilder’s clever instrumentation and arrangements, and DM have never quite sounded the same since he left in 1995. Pet Shop Boys’ Neil Tennant has said that they were deeply envious of DM’s sound on Violator.

There’s still a freshness to this record’s sound, especially in the remastered CD/DVD version, that can make you want to dance. In big goth boots, maybe. Eyeliner and Martin Gore boa optional.

Heathen [Limited Edition w/Bonus Disc]

David Bowie. Sony 2002, Audio CD, $12.50

A review of David Bowie’s Heathen (2002)

Released in 2002, this is – for me – Bowie’s most satisfying record of the 2000s so far. It demonstrates what rock can sound like today – well-produced, full, dense, interesting, full of aural appeal, mystery, layers, greys and autumn colours. Bowie’s legacy, of course, is an impossibility to comment on in its entirety; this CD shows Bowie taking a look at it and creating un-ironic new music that’s both modern and conscious of many aspects of classic Bowie. Still one of rock’s most evocative lyricists, Bowie’s art is often in the way he leaves things unsaid – “5:15 The Angels Have Gone” is an ode to public transit as much as a love song and metaphysical reflection:

5:15 | Train overdue. | Angels have gone. | No ticket. | I’m jumping tracks. | I’m changing towns. | We never talk anymore. | Forever I will adore you.

If you thought Bowie’s run ended with Scary Monsters, think again. There’s a slew of newer records that are very good. While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend Earthling and Outside as (much) more than uneven oddities with really great bits, Hours, Heathen and Reality are all great, satisfying, ‘mature’ (in the best way) Bowie records.

Stars

SIMPLY RED. East/West Records 2009, Audio CD, $8.30

A review of Simply Red’s Stars (1991)

British soul pop at its finest. Mick Hucknall came from a reggae and soul perspective, but was really always a crooner first. This is an incredibly strong collection of songs, and it’s still puzzling to me why this never took off more in North America. I loved this when I was 21; it’s still a very, very strong album whose loose, 70s soul stylings and Beatles-esque harmonies have held up well. And it was a record that took the world by storm – at least the UK, Europe, Australia, South Africa… in England, it was the album of the year in 1991 and spent something like 20 weeks at the top of the charts. This incarnation of Simply Red featured Gota on drums – a very talented Japanese jazz/fusion/house drummer and producer who would later released a number of interesting instrumental discs. In a way, this fit well into the developing nexus of sound that was springing up in England around this time… pop musicians were being influenced by the nascent dance scene, and this CD is somewhat of a precursor to Emergency on Planet Earth and The Return of the Space Cowboy by Jamiroquai which came out a few years later – and also had virtually no success at all in North America.