#57 Mr Tambourine Man by The Byrds

The Byrds. I don’t understand the reason for the misspelling of this name. I can only guess it is a reference to the similar occurrence in The Beatles. Either way this has always annoyed me and I don’t entirely know why. Annoying name or not their influence has already been felt on this list despite Mr. Tambourine Man actually being their debut release. Hurrah! Who did they influence I hear you/no one ask? None other than the original Tambourine Man himself, Mr. Bob Dylan. So needless to say this band are a bit of a big deal.

When it comes to what The Byrds sounds like you can easily see that they are heavily influenced by The Beatles, and not in the annoying over the top way like Oasis are. Also there are the close harmonies that dominate most of the songs, which are more of a resemblance to The Beach Boys. So here we have an album that draws itself from two of the great acts of the sixties and feature covers from Bob Dylan, aside from the incredible alliterative possibilities this shapes up to be a good album.

On the whole it stands up as a pretty decent album, if a bit too heavy on the covers for my taste. Although, with the majority of covers, they actually manage to twist everything round so that it sounds like they are the original writers. To do this demonstrate greatness in a band to be creative and make the best of it and as such should be applauded. This tactic, however, doesn‘t really work on the . This, however, doesn’t work on the first and last tracks, Mr. Tambourine Man and We’ll Meet Again respectively, since the original versions resonate so much in the public consciousness that you can not help but think on the original versions. It may sound controversial but I actually prefer the Bob Dylan version of Mr. Tambourine Man, this isn’t detracting from The Byrds who do an amazing album highlight-version but I found myself missing the quirky vocals of Dylan.

The rest of the album just makes you feel as if you are floating on some puffy sixties Technicolor cloud. The electric guitars and harmonies on songs like The Bells of Rhymney and I Knew I’d Want You makes me wish that they had made a brief jaunt into lullabies as it’s so loose and relaxing that I found myself sitting in some lucid dreamlike state where I knew I was typing at a laptop but somehow every action seemed to be coloured different. Before you ask, no I don’t do drugs. I don’t even drink coffee. But when you have earphones in and all you can here is are these songs you can so easily lose yourself in it.

This can not be said of my least favourite track Don’t Doubt Yourself, Babe which I personally just found annoying and out of place here. There is one thing creating these dreamlike songs that allow them to transport the listener but this is way too hippy for my tastes. The lyrics and sentiment are something you would expect a 16 year old to concoct in his bedroom addressing a depressive girl he knows in his year, I know as I was that 16 year old boy. You would hope that The Byrds or the record company would have had the wherewithal to leave it out. The same applies to We’ll Meet Again. So all in all a very disappointingly trite ending to an otherwise great and original album.

Despite the final two tracks this is actually an amazing album, that deserves this high rating. As you listen to it you can here the beginnings of songs that’ll later be sung by R.E.M., Beck and The White Stripes. That, in my opinion, is never a bad thing.

8.5/10

Fab Four:
Mr Tambourine Man
I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better
The Bells of Rhymney
I Knew I’d Want You

#56 Bert Jansch by Bert Jansch

The first review that you write after a longish break is always the hardest to do. This sentiment may sound a tad familiar since I wrote something similar at the beginning of my review of I’ve Got A Tiger By The Tail but I again have had a week off. This time it has been because of a family holiday to New York City where it isn’t really feasible for me to be writing reviews, especially since I didn’t bring my laptop. Also we did so much walking that my lower back and right knee ache terribly. What? I know I’m 19 and shouldn’t be having such aches and pains.

Since I started off this post with a tangent about my holiday I might as well start the actual review with another one. My favourite album of 2008 was She & Him’s Volume One. It was through this that I discovered M. Ward (the him in She & Him) whose albums I have grown to love, especially Hold Time and Transfiguration of Vincent. Why bring this up? Why else, but to point out the sheer influence that I can spot feeding from Bert Jansch after listening to this album.

From the fact that I made a reference to my top album of last year it should be pretty clear that I enjoyed this album, which I did. It has been too long since I listened to an album that features such beautifully complex guitar work. To find this you really need look further than Smokey River, a three minute guitar instrumental that is bloody impressive. Also there is the album closer Angie which also demonstrates his amazing guitar-playing abilities without sounding overtly cocky or avant-garde.

In a way Bert Jansch reminds me of a Devandra Banhart that can sing in tune (this may be a at unfair towards Mr. Banhart since my only exposure to him is via Rejoicing In The Hands). This is a very apt comparison as these two share a lot when it comes to the lyrical content and the complex use of the guitar, only difference being the 40 years that separates both of their entries on the 1001 list.

That is the beauty of Bert Jansch. This is one of those albums where the recording and the production has truly stood up to the test of time. Maybe this is due to the minimal production values, or the fact that this is an album that Bob Dylan could have made if his singing voice decided not to prance around behind the fine line between quirky and annoying. True that this is my shortest review for a while, and for that I apologise, but try to review a bluesy-folk album while you are suffering from jetlag. I promise to do a better one next time, but only if you listen to this album. Believe me it is worthy of the attention and rating bestowed on it.

9.0/10 Fab Four:
Stolling Down The Highway
Smokey River
Running From Home
Angie

#55 Rubber Soul by The Beatles

An interesting thing about reviewing an artist multiple times is that you begin to take on the same role as an auntie. Every now and then you get a glimpse of this artist at irregular intervals, of about a year or so, and every time that you see them you begin to notice the changes that they have gone through. For some artists, such as Bob Dylan, this process has been gradual for the first album of his was already exactly what I expected of him, this was not the case for The Beatles. While I did enjoy With The Beatles there was a sense of playing it safe and a lot of the material was derivative. This changed in A Hard Day’s Night where there really was a profound shift in the music that they were making. I guess that what I am trying to say here is that in developmental terms it appears that The Beatles are similar to a border collie where Rubber Soul is their puberty.

Rubber Soul is the first time that over the course of a whole album you can identify it as purely a Beatles album. This was not made to gain a foothold like With The Beatles as they had gained the world by storm with their previous releases. This wasn’t a purely commercial venture like A Hard Day’s Night as there was no film to accompany. What we have here ladies and gentlemen is the true creative emancipation of the Beatles, like I mentioned in my last review of their material. This is, as I previously coined, puberty for The Beatles as finally they resemble the act that we all know they will turn into.

Also as I go along the ratio of songs I know to total songs on the album keep increasing. This is always a good thing as in the end for a song to be still doing the founds over forty years later they must have been doing something right. So when this album began with Drive My Car which is such an irritable scrap of pop that you really do find yourself drawn into the world of distorted images and contemporarily ground-breaking music.

On the whole this is a very good album, wow I appear to be on a bit of a streak here, and it is very well put together. Little treats like the sitars in Norwegian Wood and the dark stalker-like song Run For Your Life are dotted so liberally that you almost brush over the two lesser tracks of the bundle, Michelle and Wait. But those tracks are there, and although this is a Beatles album I have to be as unforgiving as I was to A Christmas Gift For You.

While there are a multitude of people at my age, and younger, who still look down their noses at The Beatles and albums such as Rubber Soul as being old and therefore being of no relevance to their life. You know who I mean, the people that sit in their bedrooms pawing over posters of The Jonas Brothers or The Arctic Monkeys declaring that they know better. Well, after listening to Rubber Soul the final remnants of my Beatles-related demons have been washed away and I can actually recognise them for what they were. A pioneering act who themselves had to evolve, and take a few wrong turns in songs like Wait, before they made their magnum opus.

While it is true that in many ways The Beatles had it easier, as nowadays there is such a melee of artists that you do need to make something new, this act never became complacent in their towering popularity and strived so that they never really wore the same guise twice. As such I await their next album, Revolver, with baited breath.

8.5/10

Fab Four:
Drive My Car
Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)
I’m Looking Through You
Run For Your Life

#54 Live At The Regal by B.B. King

Never have I had to listen to an album so much before I started writing a review. This isn’t me putting an early slight on B.B. King’s Live At The Regal but just a comment on how recently I have been doing all my reviews after midnight and this time I just had to say to myself ‘no this is stupid, just do it tomorrow morning’. So that is what I did, but there were first some other tasks that needed performing like washing up and having the remains of last night’s Chinese take away for breakfast. But at least I have listened to this album enough to have an opinion and an awake opinion at that.

Blues is a genre that has begun to be featured on this list with increasing frequency but because of the way that it is arranged it is becoming hard to figure out who in this genre influenced another. I say this because B.B. King is one of those names that I actually knew previously to be a big name in the blues but has an album 4-5 years after Muddy Waters, another name that is associated with the same genre. So I guess I need to see how these two albums match up as I am finding myself with a case of writer’s block here.

Well, I like them both. That’s a good start. With B.B. King there are some amazingly masterful solos on his electric guitar with the wailing reverberating around the venue, yes it’s a live album. The use of these electric instruments is definitely a new occurrence on the list, with the first album really showcasing them being Bringing It All Back Home. As an artist it really does need to be pointed out that B.B. King has the whole package, he has a powerful voice, can play the guitar like a virtuoso, can write his own material and has such charisma that you can hear him whip the audience into some sort of frenzy. This is actually the first time since Sarah Vaughn’s At Mister Kelly’s where I found myself looking forward to the audience interactions as what has been captured on vinyl/CD/mp3 must inevitably lack some of the effect it would have live, so it’s perfectly understandable how he got everyone to scream his name.

Another major plus point has to be directed at the length of this album. Like with yesterday’s review for A Love Supreme the length is so perfect that you can actually give this album the time to hear from start to end multiple times. The songs are short and punchy so it doesn’t venture into dullness and punctuated with falsetto on tracks like Worry, Worry, something I can always appreciate. So with such a glittering review of this album what is the catch? Well there really isn’t one. This is without a doubt the best blues album that I have probably ever heard. Maybe an album will arrive in my lap that’ll make me say otherwise, it is not beyond the realms of possibility, but for now it has that ‘honour’.

So that makes this a best of the genre album and yet it doesn’t get a perfect rating from me like Sam Cooke, Dusty Springfield and Jerry Lee Lewis have. The reason for this is probably a bit of a cop-out but in the end a blues album is not one that I would automatically place high on a list of preference. This is still an amazing album and, alongside Muddy Waters, has really changed my opinion on how good the blues can be which is in itself rather impressive.

So, if you are feeling adventurous or like the blues you would be a fool to give this a miss.

8.5/10

Fab Four:
Everyday I Have The Blues
Sweet Little Angel
How Blue Can You Get
Worry, Worry

#53 A Love Supreme by John Coltrane

Don’t get me wrong here when I say this as I love Spotify to pieces, without it this project would have never come to fruition, but sometimes I bloody hate it. This isn’t a slight against the annoyingly out of place adverts for Lethal Bizzle as I listen to Coltrane or the amateurism that are the voice-mail advocates. Those are old complaints and there is a new one, specific to John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme. If you feel the need to listen to this album after my review here is a prior warning: Spotify have two different albums listed under the same title. This is something that is worth noting as it took a good 6 minutes of listening for me to work out this wasn’t the right album. So let that be a lesson to everyone, no chickens escape from Tweedy’s farm always check the covers before you start an album on Spotify.

One thing that only just dawned on me is that this is the first jazz album that I have reviewed for a while. In fact the last one, if I recall correctly, was the abomination that was Charles Mingus’s The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady. Wow, there is little wonder why I actually approached this album with as much trepidation as I did. Either way, it is time to put my jazz hat back on and utilise the rules of jazz appreciation as stipulated in my earlier review for Jimmy Smith’s Back at the Chicken Shack.

John Coltrane is one of the few names in jazz that I had actually heard of, although it’s a sad fact that this is now my jazz knowledge completely used up and anyone I now encounter will be greeted with a resounding ‘who the hell are you?’. Either way, it is nice to know that my knowledge of him has been rewarded with a thoroughly good jazz album. Coltrane, unlike Mingus, knows how to balance the complexity of a piece so that it’s not completely overwhelming whilst not making it too sparse so as to induce a coma. He wants to create a mood and he will find the perfect combination of instruments to make this a reality. This is the truest on Psalm, the closer and my favourite track on the album, is backed with a smattering of cymbals and ends on the rolling of some great drum.

A lot of these classic jazz albums tend to have some running theme, or a message that they are trying to send such as Duke Elliington tried to in Black and Tan Fantasy. This is something I only because a teacher of mine tried to explain this to me a few years back in a music appreciation class where he actually sat on the floor and mimicked someone rowing a boat. Do I remember why? No. Was it funny? Kinda, maybe a better word to describe is absurd. This is something that I got from this album, both from the musical content and the names of the tracks. After all they all have some pretty big names such as Acknowledgement, Resolution, Pursuance and Psalm so there is probably some hidden meaning linked in with the title. I didn’t look it up as I preferred to make my own interpretations but I got something possibly spiritual and an attempt to explain the journey someone, maybe Coltrane, took as a means to truly find themselves. Whether this is true or not, it is my interpretation.

The sheer fact that an instrumental jazz album was able to reach out to me is a very new thing for me, not even Kind of Blue did that. The arrangements are brilliant and at just over half an hour this is the perfect length for this genre of album so that it never actually feels stale and that 5 play-throughs later you are still enjoying the subtle nuances that jazz really is all about. Definitely an album for the iPod.

8.5/10

Fab Four:

...it’s four tracks long and only just over half an hour. You know the drill

#52 Today! by The Beach Boys

Previously on this blog, in a review of A Date With The Everly Brothers if I recall correctly, my opinion on close harmony male singing was expressed as one of dislike. However, as I was writing that review I had completely forgotten about The Beach Boys. So for now that opinion is now retracted seeing the new parameters involved. This is a band who I have previously defended to the hilt in a random drunken argument in a Micklegate chip shop as one of the big influences to come out of the sixties, alongside The Beatles and (if this argument occurred now) The Rolling Stones. It was one of those standard arguments, the guy said that all this music was terrible, then I chimed in saying how Queen, his favourite band, wouldn’t have made the music that they made. This of course a bit of aggravation on his part but it’s a truism that I maintain to this day.

I will be the first to admit that for my third term in university I had a bit of a love affair with Pet Sounds and yet I never really gave any of their albums a proper go. Thus I commenced my listening to Today! with complete gusto and the pay-off was almost immediate as I leapt into the happy summer half of the album that sets your soul alight. What The Beach Boys knew how to do very well was how to use harmony for the ultimate emotional expression. It doesn’t matter whether it is upbeat or a ballad they still know how to use their collective voices to just inspire that immediate connection that a lot of artists somehow miss out on.

The highlight of the upbeat first half is Help Me, Ronda and is a perfect example of when I say that Today! is the first album that makes me really feel like I am actually in the sixties. This is very apparent on the track Don’t Hurt My Little Sister through the use of the lyrics “you know she digs you and thinks you’re a real groovy guy”. So sixties that it makes me want to watch re-runs of The Banana Splits, while obviously whizzing through the cartoons. Then there is the amazing Dance, Dance, Dance which is a complete throwback to their first hit single Surfin’ USA and not in a bad way. Only The Beach Boys could succeed here in making you not feel just happy but also feeling rather groovy.

Then we have the second ballad filled half, a half that I usually dread, but somehow they pull it off. In all of these you can see the seeds that have been sown for the forthcoming God Only Knows, which will rear it’s head soon. It is also here that I heard a very clear influence here on the early works of Of Montreal (a band I love who sadly aren’t on this). My favourite of the ballads is without-a-doubt She Knows Me Too Well, and not just because it reminds me of Of Montreal’s Eros’ Entropic Tundra. This is a bit besides the point, sorry, but I do love trying to find the routes that musical evolution has taken.

Don’t get me wrong this isn’t Pet Sounds but frankly what really is anything like Pet Sounds? Today! serves as a brilliant introduction as to what The Beach Boys were, musical pioneers. The lush production that you see on here and on all their albums are unlike anything I have heard up till now on this list and these techniques will be used ad nausea for now it is seen as the norm. Brian Wilson is a genius and this album is a testament to that.

9.0/10

Fab Four:
Don’t Hurt My Little Sister
Help Me, Ronda
Dance, Dance, Dance
She Knows Me Too Well

#51 Otis Blue by Otis Redding

In my quest to complete the 1001 challenge it was always likely that I would be confronted with artists who’s life was cut short in some tragic circumstances. Sam Cooke, Janis Joplin, Ian Curtis and Mama Cass are the first names on this list that immediately spring to mind. This is also a review introduction I could have applied to The ‘Chirping’ Crickets being the only Buddy Holly album to be featured on this list. However, I thought it more apt and a little less clichéd to do it here after I discovered the tragic fate that befell Otis Redding.

For some unknown reason I actually had it in my head that he was one of those musicians who was still alive, or at least died in the last decade, so you can appreciate my shock when I discovered that he died at the tender age of 26 about two years after Otis Blue was released. Much like Buddy Holly, who I previously mentioned, Otis Redding too died in a plane crash. A bit of a downer really when you are just getting over a bug that makes you throw up. So, in between adverts extolling the virtues of the latest release by Colbie Caillat, I tried to give this album the listen that I believed it warranted.

However, there was one problem with this approach (and no this isn’t the fact that the album is only available in mono). Otis Blue just never able to envelope me in it’s velvety world of soul. In all three attempts to listen to this album I got distracted by different things. The first attempt was the theme song to ’The Tudors’ which my mum was watching in the other room, the second by the sound of the torrential rain outside. By the third attempt I had had enough and forced myself to sit down and really listen to this. Sadly though this still left me cold.

Although there is no denying that Otis Redding had talent. This album is indeed a testament to this and in fact makes me wish that there was a live album of his on this list rather than this studio album. In this era I am not doubting that these live albums would be in short supply. In this way this is a bit annoying as in the entire album I can feel this shimmer that is constantly bubbling that makes me think that wills me onwards to try more of his back catalogue, but it somehow just remains there below the surface and never truly reveals itself. I guess this shows how far I have come from condemning the first live album I encountered on this list as being absolute refuse, but it serves a point. So, why is this album on here?

Aside from the multitude of 5-star reviews and Top 100 Albums Ever placements this has received there must be some reason. To represent a talent lost tragically soon? Maybe. But I think more likely is the sheer influence that this sound has had on music today. In fact if you listen to I’ve Been Loving You For Too Long you can hear in the nuances of his voice and in the arrangement that there is something different going on here. This is resplendent throughout the album and really culminates in the cover of Satisfaction (not as good as the original, but still very good). So in the end, at least in my opinion, this has owned a placement for being an album placed in the stages of music’s evolution rather than sheer merit.

Many music critics, if they would give the blog of a 19 year old guy the time of day, would happily point out how wrong I was in my judgement, or how it isn’t right to let personal preference interfere in the rating of an album with me instead weighing it up by musical merit. For me though the point is to give an opinion based on my musical knowledge and preference which this doesn’t really fit in. Instead this to me is an album where greatness is missed and it’s sad because where there should be gold there is but mediocrity.

4.5/10

Fab Four:
A Change Is Gonna Come
I’ve Been Loving You Too Long
Wonderful World
Satisfaction (I Don’t Get No)

#50 Bringing It All Back Home by Bob Dylan

This is it, the first real landmark number, album number fifty. This marks that I am now 1/20th of the way though the 1001 project and aside from the occasional hyperventilation and headaches this has thus far been relatively painless. Personally it is a surprise that I made it past one month let alone to fifty albums, it makes you wonder why certain projects just fall flat after a few starting hurdles (and let’s face it there were a few of those in the early stages of this blog) while others really do have staying power. Maybe it’s because there have been some definite surprises and discoveries that have been made and as such has further cemented my love for music whilst simultaneously shaping my opinions. If that is truly the case then I can think of no artist more apt for this landmark number than Bob Dylan.

My experience of Bob Dylan previous to Bringing It All Back Home boils down to the album I have previously reviewed, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, and Modern Times which I gave a go two years ago and gave up after listening to two tracks. So my knowledge of his music was nothing if not underwhelming and rather different. This is why I can always appreciate when I hear a familiar track or two on his albums as it makes me feel more musically savvy than I am in reality.

When stacking up Bringing It All Back Home against The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan there is no contest for me, the former is better and here’s why. There has been a considerable improvement in his guitar and harmonica playing abilities, ok the voice hasn’t really got any better but I guess that’s part of his charm. Also there is a progression in the arrangement in the first half of the album with him employing a actual backing band, with there being an acoustic second half. It won’t take much to guess which of these halves I preferred.

That isn’t to say that the acoustic half isn’t good though, as Mr. Tambourine Man is by far the best song on the album and a bit reminiscent of the older Bob Dylan material, but the first half marks a new step in his sound. He continues with his self-named tracks in the form of Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream which is in essence a random surrealist flight of fancy regarding the discovery of America by a fictional character reminiscent to Captain Ahab from Moby Dick (here named Captain Arab).

Also worthy of mention, not just because it is one of ’those’ songs, is Subterranean Homesick Blues. This quick-fire opener is one of the reasons that you can tell that this is a step forward from his previous incarnation as the voice of acoustic folk rock protest. Here he still has some of the lyrics that one would come to expect from him but this time it is executed in a far smarter way by giving it the sheen of a fast-paced folk-rock number whilst still throwing in references to causes and struggles. The same can be said for Maggie's Farm, which was later used by protesters against Margaret Thatcher, as this once again utilises a hook and more fast-paced blues structure whilst still maintaining the heart of protest.

In the end Bringing It All Back Home is a very apt name for this album for as an artist this marks his maturation and his ability to tie all the loose ends together to make a cohesive album. With the exception of the overly long It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) this is a consistently long album which makes me look forward to the albums of his to come which are considered his masterpieces.

8.0/10

Fab Four:
Subterranean Homesick Blues
Maggie’s Farm
Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream
Mr. Tambourine Man

#49 Here Are The Sonics by The Sonics

Let’s have a quick recap of the genres that have been covered so far. In no particular order we have had: jazz, blues, r&b, rock n’ roll, soul, pop, bossa nova, African music, folk, country and chanson. Not too bad a selection so far bearing in mind that not even 50 albums have yet reviewed, with the landmark occurring tomorrow. I like to think that through the meandering through these different genres, whether they be live or not, that I have been fair to each and every album without being that prejudiced. With that in mind it is time to add one more genre to the list with Here Are The Sonics being the first true punk album on the list.

When most people think of punk, myself included, it is hard not to first envisage the contorted face of John Lydon as he screams along to Anarchy In The U.K. Either that or the punk-pop, in the forms of Green Day and Sum 41, that pepper the airwaves. Well all of these acts have The Sonics to thank for the birth of punk, an act who went quickly into obscurity.

Punk isn’t a genre I can usually savour, Green Day’s American Idiot is usually as far as I go and that really isn’t punk, and I will also grant you that Here Are The Sonics isn’t true punk either. However, what we have here is what is referred to as protopunk meaning that these are the roots from which all future punk, whether it be Patti Smith or Blink-182, are derived from. As such this contains many elements of contemporary music, including many covers of rock n’ roll and blues standards, but the arrangements are now different. The music is louder, the lead singer screams, the drumming is primal and the guitars are almost turned up to 11.

What The Sonics have here is the makings of a very good album, the thing that lets it down are the covers, with some of these songs such as Roll Over Beethoven, Money and Good Golly, Miss Molly having all been on a few previous albums. While the first two of these aren’t songs I particularly like I can say with ease that their transition to protopunk isn’t an easy one with these covers sounding flat and uninspired. I draw special attention to Walkin’ The Dog where the incessant whistling got very old very quickly.

The real strength of the album lies entrenched in the original material, a particular favourite of mine being Strychnine. These are the songs where The Sonics are truly able to express their abilities as a band. These songs are bizarre and allow for the animalistic parts of the band to come out to shine. The opener of The Witch is a fantastic example of this random guitar solos, screams and all.

Personally, an album that greater embraced this primal side of the band without having to please the record company with the more mundane covers would have been greater appreciated. This is a band that really showed such great potential but with members running off to university this band died an early death which is a real shame. I guess I shall have to find solace in the punk children that I will encounter. Apart from John Lydon… I draw a line at him.

7.0/10

Fab Four:
The Witch
Do You Love Me
Boss Hoss
Strychnine

In Other News: Happy Birthday to me ^^

#48 Live At The Star Club, Hamburg by Jerry Lee Lewis

For the purposes of this review I would like you to use your imagination to put yourself in the shoes of Mr. Jerry Lee Lewis. This is just a little exercise in creative thinking that I would like to do. Right, your career is in tatters since you married your 13 year-old cousin and you have been essentially black-listed on the radio in your native country of America with your tour dates in Britain all being cancelled right before your eyes. Ok, while it can be appreciated that this is a very unusual set of circumstances this is exactly what happened to today’s artist. So what did he do? He went underground and made a highly influential live album.

His voice may sound like a more countrified Elvis but make no mistake ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is the second true rock n’ roll album on this list. This may be a big claim seeing that this is a genre that has appeared years ago in the guises of Elvis Presley and The ‘Chirpin’ Crickets but this is one I will stand by completely. Which was the other album I hear you ask? Well that honour belongs to none other than Here’s Little Richard which I reviewed well over a month ago. But why is Live At The Star Club, Hamburg a true rock n’ roll album while the first two I mentioned are simply pale imitations? Well this is a relentless live rock n’ roll extravaganza that immediately grabs your attention, shakes you around, might steal your wallet, place you back down and then makes you beg for more.

There is no point during this album where you are not in awe of the amazing piano-playing and general performance ability of Jerry Lee Lewis, as the voice is where the similarities to Elvis end. That and the fact that he tries his hand at some Elvis standards such as Hound Dog where he not only raises the bar but well and truly shows how this should be done.

As most of my reviews may have stipulated it is when albums go saccharin that I lose interest and start barraging my laptop with insults (see: Elvis Is Back!). But none of these qualms plague this album, in fact the almost complete absence of ballads is probably where Live At The Star Club, Hamburg derives it’s greatest strength for there is no real point where the momentum comes to a crashing halt. In fact this momentum just carries on throughout the entire run through the album leaving the listener breathless, so lord knows how either the audience, Jerry Lee Lewis or his backing band The Nashville Teens were able to cope with it.

If I were to pick out the highlight tracks of this album I think that the honour falls to the first two tracks of both vinyl sides. All four of these tracks (Mean Woman Blues, High School Confidential, Great Balls of Fire and Good Golly, Miss Molly) summarise brilliantly why this album succeeds, fire. There is such a passion in the performance of Jerry Lee Lewis that this has now eclipsed that of Sam Cooke's Live At The Harlem Square Club who I was highly phrasing not too long ago. Don’t feel too bad for Sam Cooke for this quick taking for the crown for he was all too quick to grab the highest rated album title from Phil Spector’s A Christmas Gift For You.

I may be talking around in circles, I blame my cold, but this album is really that good. May in fact be the best live album that I have ever encountered. Maybe I am getting softer on the ratings as I go along, or maybe the albums really are getting better. As after a long list of albums where none have been given a full rating here is the third one in a short spate of time to garner such a rating. This is well worth it. It makes you want to dance even when you have a horrid cold that makes you dream about being stranded at an airport. I should know, that’s my current position.

10.0/10

Fab Four:
Mean Woman Blues
High School Confidential
Great Balls Of Fire
Good Golly, Miss Molly

#47 I've Got A Tiger By The Tail by Buck Owens

While this entry is happily published the on the usual weekday following on from The Rolling Stones it is actually the best part of a week since I reviewed the previous album. Upon the conception of this blog I actually decided to do a large bulk of these reviews before I actually started publishing for the sheer reason that there are times where I would be unavailable to review the album, in this instance I was in The Netherlands visiting my boyfriend. The reason that I am mentioning this is that this review may not have the same flow as usual for this reason. For those who are interested as to how far ahead I am, the last review that has actually been published as I am writing this was Joan Baez’s album back at the dawn of the sixties.

There are certain times with this list that you can just tell that the majority of those deciding what has made it onto the list are American. This isn’t necessarily a criticism as the US is the largest exported of music, with the UK being second and Sweden being the third (yes that fact surprised me too). This isn’t to say that other voices can not be heard in the production of this list with Jacques Brel’s A L’Olympia 1964 being an example of this. However I’ve Got A Tiger By The Tail is definitely one whose influence that could be deemed as solely-American. The reason for this, as I mentioned in a previous review, is the lack of country music success outside of the Americas. Since this is still a booming genre selling tens of millions of records a year the presence of such albums on this list is definitely understandable.

With the only apt reference of comparison, regarding to albums that I have thus far reviewed, being a mixture of Ray Price’s Night Life and Marty Robbins’ Gunfighter Ballads… I do find it hard to hard to find the need to say more about this album. This album takes the emotive ability of Ray Price and combines it with the musical styles of both the artists I mentioned before. As such this is a good album and is actually the first time that I have heard an echo of two artists that I know very well. The first of this is Emmylou Harris where such songs as Cryin’ Time resonated much like her work does, the other of this is a brief resemblance to the Robert Plant & Alison Krauss album Raising Sand. While the mentioning of such an album may be seen as a cop out, as the presence of Robert Plant actually made it more socially acceptable to listen to a country album in Britain, there are certainly echoes here. I am sure then when I tackle the works of Dolly Parton and Bonnie Raitt that more similarities will be rendered apparent.

One feature that is definitely worthy of note are the songs If You Fall Out Of Love With Me and The Band Keeps Playin’ On. In my opinion it is these slower songs that border on the edge of maudlin and almost saccharin that test how good an artist is. While lesser ones would make this sound whiney and depressing you have Buck Owens here who is able to walk the tightrope and make these songs very emotionally provocative without jumping into the deep-end. This isn’t to say that I can not appreciate the faster and more fun songs, as when it comes to country it is these that are my favourites and this album has it’s own fair share of them. The top ones here are Trouble and Me and Wham Bam both of which are toe-tapping and just make you want to smile.

Yes it is true that I do not have the greatest knowledge of country music but with albums like this being peppered around it makes me glad to think that I am getting some form of education in this area.

8.0/10

Fab Four:
Trouble And Me
Wham Bam
If You Fall Out Of Love With Me
The Band Keeps Playin’ On

#46 The Rolling Stones by The Rolling Stones

On this list as a whole it is interesting to note the sheer volume of debut albums. So what is really that special about the debut albums? In some cases, such as PJ Harvey’s Dry, it is an album that is composed of tried and tested material that have been shown to gain the rapture of the crowd and so have earned their place. In other cases, such as Britney Spears’ …Baby One More Time, the album marks the start of an icon and as such it is included for the sake of posterity and as a means to gaze back at the origins of an artist. In the case of the debut album of the Rolling Stones, with the ever creative eponymous name, I do believe that a little bit of both may be in operation.

Coming from such a modern perspective and with very little knowledge of The Rolling Stones the type of album that this turned out to be was a great surprise. While I am obviously aware that you can not immediately go from the music of The Everly Brothers to (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction in one fell swoop the different genre that was present on The Rolling Stones was astounding. While it is true that there are many remnants of sixties style rock n’ roll here the dominant feature here are blues covers. The reason for all these blues covers? Well this was material that had worked for them on the road and it does make some modicum of sense for the album to be as such. Also there were some apparent insecurities when it came to when it came to the quality of the Stones’ self-penned songs, although three of them managed to make their ways onto the album.

In my head one of the major reasons that The Rolling Stones made it onto the list is the icon-factor. When I judge this in relation to other albums that I have encountered thus far, especially the blues ones, there is definitely a progression in sound. The blues covers on here are louder, rawer and far more aggressive than any of the rock ‘n roll songs thus far. In such a way this album has already earned the kudos that should be required to be put on this list. But in the wake of such experimentation how does the album sound?

The old cliché hit and miss appears to be the best way to describe this album. There are occasions where this different approach works, with the opener Route 66 and Little By Little being examples of this. However these are almost in complete balance with songs such as I Just Want To Make Love To You where the attempt to sound revolutionary just sounds clumsy and a bit of a mess.

When rating this album I can not take into account how influential their later material is. As such this is, according to my scale, deserving of a middling rating. Also to take into account are that there are many sparks of what is to come on here, in the end they will just home their craft and I am sure that the next album of theirs that I have to review, Aftermath, will be a far better one which will garner a higher rating.

5.5/10

Fab Four:
Route 66
Now I’ve Got A Witness
Little By Little
Can I Get A Witness

#45 A Girl Called Dusty by Dusty Springfield

Right, after the sheer annoyance factor that was Solomon Burke’s Rock ‘N’ Soul it is now time to shift the focus onto the next album. With the appearance of A Girl Called Dusty it is surely of note that this is the first album since Miriam Makeba’s eponymous album. That’s a total of 19 albums which equals about 4-5 years! Such a figure just makes the appearance of this album all the more remarkable, especially since it’ll take another 30 albums until I reach the next one. So considering this musical landscape that she inhabited, as well as spearheading the female contingent of The British Invasion, it is clear that Dusty Springfield is not to be taken lightly.

With all that being said what we have here may in fact be one of the first acclaimed female voiced pop albums as we would recognise it by today’s standards. Tracks on here range from breezy to power ballads all with the subtle tinge of soul and Motown. So while she was obvious an impressive woman to be able to get her foot in the door it is nice to know that there was a more playful side that was able to be show in tracks like Mama Said while maintaining the artistic prestige on Anyone Who Had a Heart. While she is also noted as being the voice that has become associated as the inspiration for the likes of Duffy it is fair to say that when it comes to this that there is no need to accept any imitations. Especially when they choose to caterwaul quite a few of their album tracks.

While I am quite aware that Dusty In Memphis was meant to be her masterpiece I would have to admit that this album comes mighty close to that status. In A Girl Called Dusty there are a nice variety of songs, granted they are all covers, but still there is plenty of variation in the material that she has decided to include. This is rather refreshing for this era, something which is now expected of major artists, since major albums could be made with little variation around the theme. An example of this in the albums that I have reviewed are the Frank Sinatra ones where both of them have an agenda as specifically specified in his titles and he rigidly sticks to them. Dusty, however, is here standing on her soapbox in her high-heels (due to being 5’3’’) and is proclaiming to the world that there is now a woman on the scene and she can play this pop-game better than any of the boys.

The production values here are also something to be noted. The productions here resemble Phil Spector’s Wall Of Sound technique but are slightly muted in comparison as a means to completely showcase Dusty’s vocals. This can be witnessed on Will You Love Me Tomorrow where she sings as clear over layers of stings, percussions and backing singers.

This is an album that is truly knee-deep in classic songs. I would actually challenge anyone to go through this album and not recognise at least 3 songs from this, my personal count was six. When you listen to songs like Wishin’ And Hopin’ and Twenty-Four Hours From Tulsa then consider that this was actually a debut album this effort becomes so laudable. This is also not touching upon the lyrical gymnastics that she appears to perform here that veer from one end to the other. Through looking at the song choices her on this album the image that is portrayed is a proto-feminist who will not be tied down and demands to be treated as she would want to treat her partner and as such remain her own woman (You Don’t Own Me) while still advocating smothering your lover with affection to show that you care (Wishin’ And Hopin’). Not so bad for a girl called Dusty is it?

With the listening of Sam Cooke’s Live At Harlem Square Club the bar was well and truly lifted, and Dusty doesn’t only clear this bar but she pole-vaults clearly over it. This is definitely the best album that I have listened to on this list. This is not only because of the sheer versatility of the artist but the guts for her to include such a song as You Don’t Own Me on a debut release and live to tell the tale. Not only that but have a long and successful career that resurfaced again and again with the help of contemporary artists such as The Pet Shop Boys. She was the dawning of a new breed of female artist, and it took 4-5 more years for the repercussions to be well and truly felt in the music business. Dusty Springfield, I salute you.

10.0/10

Fab Four:
You Don’t Own Me
Twenty-Four Hours From Tulsa
Anyone Who Had A Heart
Wishin’ And Hopin’

#44 Rock 'N' Soul by Solomon Burke

Right, it’s midnight and I am slightly peckish so please excuse me that when I saw the album’s title Rock ‘n’ Soul I envisaged a great big steaming plate of fish and chips. Maybe it had one of those little china cups with tartar sauce on the side and was garnished with a lemon wedge. Anyway, we are not here to discuss my random food fantasies and if I have made you hungry I apologise greatly.

When it comes to writing the reviews the best albums that you get to write about those are either the very good ones or the very bad ones. It is in these albums where you can let your creativity flow and truly construct a great verbal account on the pros and cons and hopefully stimulate some form of debate. Naturally of course the worst type of album is one where little to no impression can be formed. This is ok on some albums as the artist is well known enough to you that you can talk about their other works, however for an unknown to the writer this makes the task irrevocably harder. This is the case with Solomon Burke’s Rock ‘N’ Soul.

It is very hard for me to describe how I feel about this album apart from the fact that it made thirty-two minutes completely drag. This is one chore of an album to make your way through. I do not actually understand why this appears on the list for there are many better albums that I have already encountered that make a better use of the rhythm and blues genre so I can not imagine it having as great an influence. For me there was little to no emotional connection between myself and Solomon Burke as his songs reeled out cliché after cliché after cliché.

While this may seem like a strange thing to take umbrage with but the presence of an album on the list but this is one that I actually can not understand. At least with the Charles Mingus and Count Basie albums there was a point to them no-matter how low a rating that they garnered. However, here is an album that is so generic in everything it does that has greater examples of the genre released before it that calls it’s placing here into question. It also annoys me as this album has caused me to right a cop-out of a review since there is very little to say apart from saying how deeply disappointing and boring it was.

3.5/10

Fab Four:
Cry To Me
… no that’s just about it

#43 Enregistrement Public A L'Olympia 1964 by Jacques Brel

While this a list of albums that attempts to cover all genres and present examples from each and every one of them in such a way as to not leave anything out this book still has the power to surprise me. I have been listening to a lot of music that has been listed here since I got the first edition back in 2006, thanks to this little book my musical taste has significantly broadened and I believe has better equipped me to deal with the world in general. While it is true that the majority of the world is not based in music it is thanks to books like this and the associated film book that I am extremely adventurous when it comes to most things in life. Granted I still am tee-total and I refuse to take part in contact-sports, but this is not from want of trying since these are things that have been previously tried and, much like deep-fried Mars bars and the films of Andy Warhol, have been lead to the conclusion that they are just not for me.

Anyway, enough about personal growth. I do realise that the opening paragraph might have been a bit dull and sounds more like something I should tell a therapist but there it is. The point that I was trying to drive at is that in a long run of jazz and the emerging of rock n’ roll reaching such an album like Jacques Brel’s Olympia ‘64 is not just a huge curveball but a complete change in direction. This is someone who, having talked to some mates from Europe, I am embarrassed not to have heard of with the resounding chorus of ‘he was kinda big over here’.

So here I am in completely alien territory when it comes to music with the only similar songs coming to mind being some of Ute Lemper’s Punishing Kiss and the remnants of Edith Piaf that come hand in hand with watching La Vie En Rose. The embarrassing thing here too is that I am meant to at least know some rudimentary French and a lot of the lyrics elude me. Not being aware what an artist is saying isn’t usually a worry for me, being a fan of J-Pop, but the slight fragments that I can make out just become a tad irritating. This shouldn’t have a bearing on how this album is viewed due to the superficial nature of the problem but it is something that cannot be helped.

Taking all superficialities into account this is one hell of a good album. To me though there is one song that just surpasses most that I have heard so far in this blog, Amsterdam. This opener to the album left me sat in my chair completely breathless as my arms erupted with goosebumps. The cheer strength and emotion in the voice of Jacques Brel, primarily to the backing of accordions, as he powers his way into a crescendo with layer-upon-layer and instrument-upon-instrument being added until finally at the end you are left sat there waiting there with baited breath to see what is about to happen next. Such a skilful orchestration and performance from Brel himself, which can be said through the whole album, that you forget this is a live album. If it wasn’t for the applause you could be excused into believing that this was the best of many takes done in a studio.

Just when you think you have this album pegged as a series of powerful performances it is revealed that Brel is far to smart to be shackled to just one mood. Throughout the album he experiments with so many different guises where sometimes he is lilting, then in a heartbeat he is fuming and then out of nowhere he becomes a bull (listen to Les Toros to find out what I mean). He can range from the slow ballad to the booming protest song and yet he really doesn’t feel that out of place in any genre.

So what is the minus point here? Why is it that I am giving this an eight? Well with such an opener as Amsterdam the rest of the album fails to live up to the promise made in such a powerhouse opening. On the second listen suddenly all the nuances make themselves clear and I can appreciate this album as a whole and think of it as one of those nights in live music that a time machine will find good use of. There is no doubting though that his presence on this recording, and by extrapolation the stage, is one of a master and one that warrants a lot of research into the back catalogue of. As such I leave the rating as it is, but this may inadvertently be the discovery of a new artist to love and cherish. If that is the case then maybe the rating will have to be revised in the future.

8.0/10

Fab Four:
Amsterdam
Les Jardins Du Casino
Mathilde
Madeleine

#42 A Hard Day's Night by The Beatles

So this is it, album number 42. While it may be cheesy to start going on about the Douglas Adams ‘42 is the meaning of life’ path but it’s one I enjoy. Plus I have actually lasted until 42 which is precisely 36 albums more than I expected to get to. As for A Hard Day’s Night falling on the hallowed number it is definitely an interesting to fact to note that this is the first of the very few soundtracks to be featured. Off the top of my head I can only think of three more (Shaft, The Virgin Suicides & Purple Rain) that I am likely to encounter. I could now bitch about all the films that the Beatles made but I want to leave that particular rant until I reach the last Elvis album. Not because The Beatles were better at it than Elvis but because I’ve seen more of the films meaning I am in a better position to comment on them.

Either way, with a year of music passing in a mere week it makes me ask the same question as I did yesterday with Getz/Gilberto, what has changed since the last album? The answer to this, and it pleases me to say, is that there are absolutely no covers on A Hard Day’s Night as compared to the 50/50 split on With The Beatles. This is a boon for The Beatles for this album truly marks their first steps towards true creative emancipation with them now beginning to be able to show off their song-writing skills. The only downside for me is the lack of a George Harrison track, bah. Oh well. He at least gets a solo Grammy Award for Best Album while Paul McCartney gets bupkis, so look who gets the solo laugh. Sorry, I just deeply dislike Paul McCartney and now have a candle for George Harrison so this was a comparison that was likely to crop up.

With this purging of cover versions there is a definite move on in style from With The Beatles when they could sometimes sound either sounded dangerously close to The Everly Brothers or very wooden, the latter a reference to Roll Over Beethoven. As an album it definitely serves as a stepping-stone to what they are yet to achieve for thus far it is still not a revolution in music that has been associated with them but they are definitely taking a step in the right direction, which is not in the direction of the lyric “I will love her until the cows come home” from When I Get Home. Speaking of which this track, aside from being by far the weakest on the whole album, is a prime example of how bad Ringo’s drumming is.

Complaints aside I really did enjoy this album, it is an overall improvement on the previous one with only one song acting as filler. This is also the first time where I recognised some of the classic Beatles songs with A Hard Day’s Night, Can’t Buy Me Love and the sublime I Should Have Known Better all appearing with full force. While Don’t Bother Me may still have the place, at the moment, of being my favourite Beatles song it is something that may be liable to change as I progress. Also, something that needs to be said, is that I Should Have Known Better came very close to taking this mantle. I have loved this version since hearing a cover version by Zooey Deschanel last year but hearing it in it’s original incarnation makes it all the more better.

A fact that occurred to me is that this may in fact be the first acclaimed pop album where all the tracks have been written by the artist, something that we tend to take for granted nowadays with us expecting every new artist being a masterful vocalist with a flair for lyrics. Whether this is a blessing or a curse this is the legacy that has been left to the music world by this group, and in the end if it means more albums turned up like this than A Date With The Everly Brothers then that is fine by me.

8.0/10

Fab Four:
A Hard Day’s Night
I Should Have Known Better
I’m Happy Just To Dance With You
Can’t Buy Me Love

#41 Getz/Gilberto by Stan Getz and João Gilberto

If we can cast out minds back to the Monday before last there is the brief recollection of me having reviewed Stan Getz’s Jazz Samba. If I remember correctly this review, while being on the right side of average, was not the most complementary with me berating the album for the lack of vocal and a disposable saxophonist while I phrased the gentle orchestrations. Well Stan Getz is back once again and has this time teamed up with guitarist João Gilberto to produce Getz/Gilberto, which incidentally is the first of many Grammy Award winning albums to be featured on this list.

So, what has changed in the year between Jazz Samba and Getz/Gilberto. The addition of vocals is the major difference here with there also being a change in the line-up. Still, no matter how many line-up changes the big noticeable difference is that suddenly the saxophone has taken up it’s proper position in bossa nova as accompaniment and allows João Gilberto to sing these songs as they were meant to be sung. Also deserving of mention are the vocals of João’s then wife Astrud who, having only appeared twice, really stolen the show. Her vocals may not be accomplished or polished in any way but her breathy and accented singing in The Girl From Ipanema act as the albums true highlight.

Another major improvement are that the tracks feel less improvised. While jazz connoisseurs may not appreciate this it is far more preferable from where I am sitting. True these tracks may feel far more restrained than on Getz/Gilberto but for me this is a definite improvement. In the end this more traditional approach is far more suited to the bossa nova style with the delicate arrangements and simple vocals flowing with a smooth rhythm. This aids to accentuate the heartfelt elements far more than any saxophone solos ever could.

So what is the downside of this album? While the music is beautiful and the vocals are perfectly matched it feels a little bit too laid back for it’s own good. Getz/Gilberto is one of those albums that makes for brilliant background music while you are doing something else but not particularly for the sake of listening to it. There are plenty of other albums that I would end up choosing ahead of Getz/Gilberto if I was bored and in the mood for music. That is, in the end, a deal-breaker. (The exception to this is The Girl From Ipanema which I would happily listen to at any point, not just if I was in the mood for a bossa nova backdrop as I make dinner).

7.0/10

Fab Four:
The Girl From Ipanema
Doralice
Desafinado
So Danco Samba

#40 Live At The Apollo by James Brown

Why do girls scream at musicians they love? This is one of those questions that crops up over and over again for me, and it has twice in the last twenty-four hours. The first time occurred yesterday afternoon as I was watching the first half hour of the Tina Turner biopic What’s Love Got To Do With It? (side note: very good film with amazing performances from Angela Bassett and Laurence Fishburne), in this example I agree it’s a film and so the behaviour of the women/girls shouldn’t be taken verbatim. The second time though was while I was listening to today’s album, James Brown’s Live At The Apollo. Whether it be through excitement or not it is still, as a guy, a very strange phenomenon to behold.

I guess that the screaming of girls is just another one of those tell-tale signs that an artist has got charisma. This is a word that keeps cropping up as I do the write-ups for live albums, so I am guessing that this really is one of the keys behind the what makes one of these a great album that is therefore featured on such a list. There are of course exceptions to this rule, Ellington At Newport 1956, but in general this works out.

However, in the case of Live At The Apollo, I know that there is charisma. I can hear the screams and the cheers of the women in the audience. I can also hear it in his voice as he whips the crowd into a frenzy. Yet, it’s conveyance across the speakers and into the fibres of my being are zero. While I understand that this will also be because he danced around this a mute point as this is album achieved it’s place on it’s musical merit rather than by those of James Brown’s steps. If Live At The Apollo were to be solely judged against the other live albums so far encountered on the list it still lies somewhere near the bottom of the pack, still some way above Ellington at Newport 1956 but doesn’t match the majesty of At Mister Kelly’s or the sheer wow-factor of Live At The Harlem Square Club. That isn’t to say that this isn’t a good album, as it is. Ratings wise it places about the same as Sunday At The Village Vanguard which I did also enjoy.

The real highlight, aside from laughing at the reactions of the women in the audience, is the ten minute epic that is Lost Someone. This is not a track to match the sheer energy of Sex Machine but this is James Brown raw and unplugged. It feels that all of the funk artifice has been stripped away leaving behind this man bearing his soul to a sparse orchestration. If it wasn’t for the sheer power of his voice it would fall flat on it’s face, but in the hands of this professional it is perfectly executed. That is not to say that the energy of the closer Night Train isn’t at all welcome.

In the end Live At The Apollo comes to symbolise a lot of the problems of a live recording for a lot has become lost in the process of transferring it from the performance onto vinyl and now to mp3. I am sure that if I were there in person with the magnetic personality of James Brown at the helm of this show’s Night Train I would happily be in the snack cart buying a bag of pretzels as I enjoyed the ride of my life. However, without seeing him dancing around and without the atmosphere I am left a little bit cold which is a shame.

6.5/10

Fab Four:
I’ll Go Crazy
Think
Lost Someone
Night Train/Closing

#39 The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady by Charles Mingus

Why did I start this blog? Simple, to try and listen to as many different music genres in such a way as to broaden my horizons. It is also true that I knew from the offset that there would be both albums that gave me joy (Live At Harlem Square Club) as well as those that would give me unadulterated headaches (Palo Congo) but I ascertain that with every listen of every album I will gain a greater understanding in the evolution of music in such a way that I can pursue the dream of writing for a magazine such as Q or Rolling Stone. In a historical context the sheer number of jazz albums only goes to accentuate the role this genre had on music as a whole. It allowed a huge amount of experimentation and improvisation on the only platform who had their ears well and truly poised to listen. In my eyes it is the only art form that never flinches in it’s attempt to bring order and appreciation to music full to the brim with discord and as such I have a great deal of respect for what jazz artists try to undertake.

However, for me the world of avant-garde jazz appears more than just a gentlemen’s club that refuses me entry based on my appearance but one that barrages me until I reach for the Anadin. That’s right people, this is the first album which can be attributed the following three word phase:

I hated it.

Nothing works here for me. The music is a massive jumble of elements so entrenched on simultaneously juxtaposing itself with one element while complementing another that it leads to a mass confusion which makes me wonder if this is the musical equivalent of a Jackson Pollock painting. There is no denying that a lot of work must have gone into this album though. Charles Mingus and whoever produced this album went out of their way to add layer upon layer of instrumentation in order to make this a richly woven tapestry of a jazz experience. It therefore both annoys and saddens me that I am unable to partake in this as well as the other albums that I have listened to previously. Another thing that needs to be noteed is that towards the end of the final monster track I began to hyperventilate.

This review may appear to be a tad melodramatic, and you would be right. Having read back on what happened, since I usually make notes on the computer in order to aid the write-up, even now the way that my body actually reacted to this album is perplexing to say the least. Nevertheless this album needs a rating that shows how much I disliked it while still leaving wiggle room for the possibility of lesser albums to be encountered along my journey. Dear god no.

2.0/10

Fab Four:
You’re kidding right? Listen to Sam Cooke again.

#38 Live At The Harlem Square Club by Sam Cooke

Yes ladies and gentlemen this is another live album that I am reviewing. When I saw that this was another in a long list of live albums the question did dawn as to why there are so many essential ones during this time. After all, it is not as if artists don’t produce live albums anymore. While I have some understanding as to why live jazz albums appear on this list, due to the largely improvisational nature of their craft, but those of other genres just didn’t make sense to me. Then the idea dawned on me as I began to listen to Live At Harlem Square Club.

Maybe it is because in their studio recordings the artists just as Sam Cooke, as well as others like Sarah Vaughan, they become so restrained by the needs to sell records to the masses that so many compromises that it is in these live albums that some artists finally reach their full creative potential and produce their best work.

So, the album today is Live At Harlem Square Club by Sam Cooke, and with this is the first true soul album to appear on the list. Originally recorded, as expected, in 1963 and released in 1985 it did make me wonder why it isn’t considered an eighties album. This may appear to be an odd thought to occur but since there is a live Bob Dylan album recorded in 1966 but listed as a 1998 album it’s a valid point. A point that really has no bearing on Sam Cooke’s album and as such this idea is now ceremoniously dropped, that is until I review Live 1966.

If there is one thing that needs to be said about Sam Cooke it is that this guy had charisma by the shed-load. If the recording is to be believed, as it should be, then he had this audience feeding out of the palm of his hand. When he says to scream and shout by Jove do they scream and shout. When he says twist you just know that the entire crowd is there in front of the stage twisting away. The second thing that is needed to be said is that he is able to make one hell of a show. He has single-handedly raised the bar for all the albums on this list. With his soulful voice and his electric performances Sam Cooke has made sure that Phil Spector’s A Christmas Gift For You didn’t hold the title of ‘Best Album So Far’ for anything more than a day.

But what is it makes Live At Harlem Square Club the best album on the list so far? So far this is the only album that is without a duff track. That’s right. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had become so attached to the concept of having a Fab Four at the end of the list it would be recommended that every track on this album is essential listening. However, if I am pressed to pick out the best tracks on this album then the honourable mentions would have to go to Cupid and Chain Gang. Yes, I am aware that both of these tracks are very early in the running order of the album but they are the best of the tracks. Chain Gang makes you want to get up and do dance like Johnny Bravo whilst Cupid is just one of those immortal songs that really does mean as much nowadays as it did back then.

Timelessness in an album is pretty much a rarity since every album has a telltale sign of the times whether it be a musical style, a particularly used instrument or cultural references that have become lost in the quagmire of a shared consciousness, yet this doesn’t have any of this. A factor to this may be that we recently had a sixties musical resurge. This has taken the forms of Amy Winehouse, Christina Aguilera’s Back To Basics and Duffy, who tries and fails to replicate the wondrous Dusty Springfield, so an album like this doesn’t sound too alien. However, these all tend to have a better production value compared with those of the sixties, including Live At Harlem Square Club. So why doesn’t this factor date this album? Pure and simple, it’s a live album. It’s production values are pretty much the same as those of Bjork’s Live Box or Madonna’s attempts that proved she couldn’t sing live.

Thus Sam Cooke, likely through sheer accident has given an album of class, genius and timelessness that all artists dream of. As such I am honoured to present Live At Harlem Square Club with the first ever 10.0.

10.0/10

Fab Four:
Chain Gang
Cupid
Bring It On Home To Me
Nothing Can Change This Love

#37 A Christmas Gift For You by Phil Spector

I realised that in taking part in this 1001 album challenge I would be subjected to some forms of absurdity. However, where I previously thought this would be owned by the high numbers of appearances of butter-spokesman John Lydon, reviewing Phil Spector’s A Christmas Gift For You over the course of a warm summer’s day really does need to take the top prize. However, since this album itself was recorded during a hot summer in Los Angeles maybe I really am listening to this album at the optimum time.

Ok, maybe not. In the end though this is an album just like any other, the fact that this is a Christmas album is merely incidental. Another incidental occurrence is that Phil Spector is now in jail for second-degree murder. Neither of these things really should affect how I judge this album, but we all know they will as I am human after all.

This is the first album that I have encountered on my musical odyssey that can be considered as big production. Phil Spector and his Wall of Sound production method are well and truly resplendent throughout this offering bringing layer after of horns and percussion and god knows what else without ever drowning out the vocals. This thick, decadent production has the greatest presence on tracks such as Winter Wonderland and Frosty The Snowman where it acts as the perfect accompaniment to the songs playful aspects and inspire merry dancing around the room. Personally the only other Christmas song that gives me the same feeling is Mike Oldfield’s In Dulci Jubilo released some 13 years later.

While there are many collaborators on this album the songs featuring Darlene Love shine the brightest with the joy and wonder of the season truly coming across in her performances. This fact is what cemented her role as the singer of Christmas (Baby Come Home) as her vocals on this are flawless and emotive, which begs the question as to what became of her singing career. While I could go on praising her vocals on the album’s two best tracks, Marshmallow World and Christmas (Baby Come Home), I will refrain from doing so through the fear of sounding like some rabid fan girl. This is by no means belittling the efforts of the other contributors as they all provide their own magic to this mix. The highlight of the other collaborators has to be Santa Claus Is Coming To Town where The Crystals hold their own against the backdrop of a barrage of bells and chimes.

The fact that this album raised the bar for all Christmas albums to come is no accident, it really is that good. In fact it is in my opinion that there has only been one other Christmas album since that equals the magic of this one, and is by no means one of such production values as Phil Spector provided. Now that he has been mentioned it is time to reveal the one song featured on this album that has indeed prevented me from giving it a perfect rating. Silent Night.

If you have listened to this album before you will know what I am referencing. To this day I will never understand why Phil Spector felt the need to ruin such a beautifully orchestrated version of my favourite carol. Oh wait I know, it’s the only moment that his voice appears on this album. While this is meant to be a message of thanksgiving it ends up just being plain creepy and as such has ruined a 0.5 off the total rating. This is truly a shame as otherwise I may have had the first 10 on my hands. Oh well, there is always next time.

9.5/10

Fab Four:
Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
Marshmallow World
Winter Wonderland
Christmas (Baby Come Home)

#36 The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan by Bob Dylan

Right, now I have made my miniature apology/warning it is time to attend to matters at hand. Bob Dylan is one of those artists that I have had a longstanding history of ill-feeling towards. This is namely because in all the music presses he is just unable to put a foot wrong. Whenever he releases an album of new material, or a collection of B-Sides he never deemed good enough for general release until 40 years later, he is always able to garner amazing reviews and appearances on end of the year lists. So, without ever giving an album of his a proper go, I already labelled him as one of those untouchables who well established magazines have to laud with the fear of looking stupid. I think I made this rant yesterday concerning the Beatles but since Bob Dylan is still pulling this in the noughties it’s a bit more personal.

Needless to say I didn’t go into my first listen of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan with an open mind. Part of me was desperate to prove other reviewers wrong so I could point and jeer at the emperor as he took a stroll around the block wearing nothing but a guitar and his trusty harmonica. When I talked about this it was suggested that this was because I wasn’t smoking pot. While this may appear a tad flippant it isn’t entirely false. While I do not condemn or condone marijuana it is true I wasn’t in the mind set for such an album. In a day where I have listened to albums by Kanye West, Florence & The Machine and Frankmusik this just jars. So I tried to mentally reset myself into whatever setting it is that allows me to enjoy Devendra Banhart’s Rejoicing In The Hands. And what would you know, it actually worked. Suddenly, having done this, I caught myself saying “this is actually good ” whilst listening to A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.

I am not going to suddenly say that this is one of the best albums that I have ever heard though. While there is a great proportion of songs that I think are really good, there is a reason Blowin’ In The Wind is immortal, there are some that should not have made the cut. The one that instantly comes to mind is Down The Highway where nothing sounds right to me, his lyrics and his guitar strums just do not work. This is in stark contrast with Bob Dylan’s Dream which has everything flowing perfectly, I don’t even mind the harmonica interludes. The same is true with his arrangement of Corrina, Corrina which is so beautifully delicate that you forget that Bob Dylan can not sing. Fact.

The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan is a good album, but it doesn’t grab me by the shoulder with the genius it has been attributed with and, as Bob Dylan goes, I am still far from being one of the converted.

7.0/10

Fab Four:
Blowin’ In The Wind
Masters Of War
A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall
Bob Dylan’s Dream

A Small Caveat.

Before I start off this review for The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan I believe an explanation is required as to my personal listening habits and how it’ll therefore be an influence on my musical taste. For me there are three main flashpoints that crop up again and again in what I would consider to be my favourite songs and/or artists:

1. Production: A lavish production with many layers is preferred if I am being honest.
2. Female: Yes, like I mentioned in my first post, I have an extreme preference in favour of female vocalists. Personally I believe that they are able to achieve a greater vocal prowess than most men and deliver their songs with a greater degree of…
3. Emotion: The song needs to get me on some emotional level. If it is able to take my breath away this is the most important component. The highest weighted of the three, which is how Sufjan Stevens remains one of my favourite artists of all time.

This has little to do with the albums per se but it has a lot to do with how I am going to review them. And as such this is a song that appears on one of the albums that ticks all my boxes, just so that you know what I mean:

#35 With The Beatles by The Beatles

With this review I hereby touch upon the first of this list’s great leviathans. I say this because With The Beatles stands as the first of seven inclusions, with the only other acts matching this being David Bowie, Neil Young and Bob Dylan. While this may be very impressive, and these acts have undeniably been a huge influence on music as we now know it, I have a bit of a bugbear with how modern day reviewers act around them. On some review sites, not naming names, it appears as though the complete Beatles catalogue are given a 100% rating which to me just appears suspect. This is especially since in reviews of this album they note gaping flaws in it and yet still give it a 5 star rating. While being critical about 40 year old albums may appear to an exercise in futileity it would be constructive to talk about these albums without the kit-gloves, which is what I try to do. That isn’t to say though that With The Beatles isn’t a good album, as it is, but it still has flaws and no matter how many seeds of future greatness that I can see, where there are many, those alone shouldn’t guarantee it a 10/10 rating for me.

In such a fashion I am going to start with what I deem to be the great flaws of the album. This is, namely, the sheer number of covers. This may seem unfair for most artists in this era tended to produce albums with a large number of standards on there. There are exceptions to this rule, such as Fats Domino and Dave Brubeck, but if you look at the linear notes to most of the albums I have reviewed there are not many albums where a quarter (or more) of the tracks are original compositions. While in the case of Ella Fitzgerald this was fair enough as she was a great interpreter with an amazing voice this is not true for The Beatles.

On With The Beatles there is an exact 1:1 ratio original songs to covers and, sadly, it is very easy to discern which are which. Apart from Please Mr. Postman, which I think is a brilliant interpretation, these covers all fall a bit flat. The worst offender to me being Smokey Robinson’s You’ve Really Got A Hold On Me and Roll Over Beethoven where the arrangements and harmonies are jarring and as such do not really work. As such a lot of these just end up sounding derivative and forgettable.

However, when the Beatles are singing their own material you can not flaw them. Their songs are filled with spirit and the promise of what is to come. Whether it be the opener It Won’t Be Long or I Wanna Be Your Man you can really see what is to come in their future as no longer feel the need to pepper future albums with covers. The main highlight of this album for me though is Don’t Bother Me, the obligatory sole track written by George Harrison. This, to me, could be one of the best tracks I have yet heard by the Beatles as while it may not be the most complex of their songs it is one of musical simplicity and emotionality that just works really well. It also does a rather back-handed service by bolstering up the contrast between the opening four original tracks and the first of the covers. Almost like the Beatles saying in the opening ‘this is who we will be’ then saying ‘this is what we have to be to gain our creative freedom’

In the end it is easy to damn rather than praise and this review doesn’t exactly give equal footing to both sides, something which is hard to do. This may cause the rating to be a surprising one but, all things considered, this is a very good offering.

7.5/10

Fab Four:
It Won’t Be Long
Don’t Bother Me
Please Mr. Postman
I Wanna Be Your Man