Only in retrospect do you realize how much The Guess Who’s sound drew from Creedence Clearwater Revival. That’s fine, because only in retrospect do you realize how much of what sounded new and unique when you were immersed in it, was really formulaic and sometimes trite.
Compilations are an ugly concept on vinyl. Either analog copy tapes have been strung together to create a cutting master or digital copies of masters are electronically assembled to produce the same cutting master. Once in a black and blue moon, original masters are removed from their reels and strung together to produce cutting masters made from original master tapes, but those are few and few between and almost impossible to make. They’re rare because few companies allow precious masters to be cut up and because unless the tunes were recorded in the same studio on the same impeccably maintained recorder, it’s very difficult if not impossible to cut a lacquer where the record/playback head’s azimuth changes from track to track.
The Who recorded their “sell out” concept album in the fall of 1967 at around the same time Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention were in the studio creating We’re Only In It For The Money. Coincidence? Collusion? A general feeling among like-minded rock cognoscenti that rock musicians were getting self-righteous, self-absorbed and that after all it’s only rock’n’roll?
One can imagine Chan Marshall sitting herself down in a darkened, candle-lit Ardent Studios in Memphis, singing these melancholic songs in late night sessions stretching until dawn.
Back in 1987, I interviewed the young up and coming and not particularly well-known Warner Brothers recording artist Chris Isaak. Thanks to a reasonably successful recording career, an effective and consistent live show, and an unusual “reality”-type comedy series on Showtime, Isaak divides his celebrity between being a respected recording artist, and a campy “celebrity,” known in some quarters simply for being known.
With his swept-back ‘50’s hair and Eddie Cochrane-like haberdashery, Chet Baker-ish schnozz, hollow body electric guitar and especially his shiver-inducing, close-to-the-microphone intimate wail, Isaak was heralded as both a musical throwback and a “new” Roy Orbison at a time when “New Wave,” synth-based “hair bands” still dominated radio airplay.
Note: The SACD review appeared here May of 2004. A new LP, mastered by Steve Hoffman has just been issued. Hoffman used the original 15ips Pye stereo master mixes played back on a vintage (1964)vacuum tubed Ampex MX-35. Enjoy!
The time between receiving this and finally writing about it is ludicrous. I’m almost embarrassed to post this in March of 2006. It’s been covered more extensively than most new jazz albums and I wouldn’t be surprised if it outsold most of them as well. On the other hand this music hasn’t been heard in almost 50 years, so what’s a more few months?
Always the teacher, Julian “Cannonball” Adderley commences this live set from 1959 with a backgrounder on the difference between church music and soul church music, before launching into Bobby Timmons’s “This Hear,” with the composer on piano, Adderley on alto sax, brother Nat on cornet and the rhythm section of Louis Hayes on drums and Sam Jones on bass setting up a crowd-pleasing soulful groove.
You’ll just have to get over the squashed, harmonically truncated and bleached sound that infects much of this musically outstanding album from 2002 (they’ve released more albums since) from this 15 member Canadian collective if you have any hope of enjoying it.