Tag Archives: Big Star

Alex Chilton: 1970

Missing link between the Box Tops and Big Star

As others have noted, this isn’t one of Alex Chilton’s masterpieces, yet it’s a terrifically listenable album that bridges between his more straight-jacketed work with the Box Tops and the freedom of expression found with Big Star. Chilton can be heard indulging his affection for Memphis blues and soul on several tracks, stripped of his former group’s AM-radio sweetening. Produced and engineered by Terry Manning, and recorded on spec rather than in fulfillment of a signed contract, Chilton was freed to sing more grittily, to record his own material, to extend the guitar jams, and to loosen up with odd touches like the banjo on “I Wish I Could Meet Elvis.” Even when things get a tad sloppy, it’s hard to fault someone shaking off the confines of top-40 for a bit of self-expression. Ironically, the craft drilled into Chilton’s head as a Box Top would soon serve him well in Big Star.

The pedal-steel driven original of “Free Again” is more innocent and exultant than the 1975 redo on Bach’s Bottom, suggesting Chilton’s departure from the Box Tops was a more freeing personal success than his extrication from the commercial failure of Big Star. Foreshadows of Big Star’s expectant melancholy can be heard in the exceptional “Every Day As We Grow Closer,” and the vulnerable “EMI Song,” folk-country “The Happy Song” and heavy soul cover of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” are all worth hearing. The bombastic cover of the Archies’ “Sugar Sugar” sounds more like a studio joke than an artistic statement, but perhaps Chilton was offended by the original’s irrepressible ebullience. After hearing these other sounds from Chilton’s head, his indulgence of the blues turns out to be the most perfunctory and least interesting material here.

Chilton backed out of a contract to release this album through Atlantic, and was distracted with Big Star before a deal could be closed with Brother Records. This left the original mono demo master to be circulated for two decades by collectors as it was forgotten by its creators. When Manning was reminded by a bootleg copy, he found the original 8-track tapes in the Ardent vault and created superb new stereo mixes (except for “Free Again,” which remains in mono). Mannings’ original engineering provided the elements necessary to create a finished product, and his craftsmanship fit the sessions together into a modern artifact that remains remarkably true to Alex Chilton circa 1970. [©2008 hyperbolium dot com]