Excellent, but surprisingly unannotated collection of Carter Family songs
As the soundtrack to Beth Harrington’s like-titled documentary, these songs sing the story of the Carter Family’s seminal invention and their on-going influence. But as a standalone volume, this virtually unannotated set provides little in the way of context or connections. The sources, circumstances and even years of these recordings are not provided, and the three-page liner notes history of the Carter Family does little to explain where these songs came from, what they meant to the Carters, or how these particular performances (including five from the Original Carter Family, one from Mother Maybelle and the Carter Sisters, and one from Maybelle and Sara Carter) thread into the story.
Canyon country with echoes of Neil, Gram, Jackson and the Byrds
There’s always been a note of Neil Young’s high, keening tone in Chris Laterzo’s voice, but on his fifth album, backed by twanging alt-country, the notes are more plentiful and apparent. That’s not a criticism, it’s a compliment, as Laterzo doesn’t copy Young so much as sing original songs in a style that echoes Young’s work from the ‘60s and ‘70s. You can also hear flavors of Shannon Hoon in his high notes and Chris Robinson in his tremelo, and the loping rhythms of Laterzo’s American “cowboy rock†also connect him to the cosmos of Gram Parsons. The album’s title track finds Laterzo surrendering not just to the natural elements of his adopted California, but also to the the country-tinged rock that once flowed freely from Laurel Canyon.
Laterzo sings lovingly of his former neighborhood, “Echo Park,†memorializing the people, places and lifestyle of an important point in his life. Dan Wistrom’s pedal steel is particularly potent on this track. Laterzo is settled in Los Angeles, but having grown up in Denver, Boston and Brussels, he harbors a wanderlust that’s satiated as a touring musician and as the rambler of “Tumbleweed.†The road beckons more darkly as an avenue of escape for “Someday Blue,†with a tempo and acoustic guitar that suggest the despair of the Rolling Stones’ “Angie.†Despair turns to resignation in “Drag,†as Laterzo concludes you can’t negotiate with a closed book, and resignation turns to spite in “Subaru,†despite the lyric’s claim to the contrary.
Holly Golightly and Lawyer Dave keep the flame burning
On her eighth album (in nine years!) with the Brokeoffs, and two-dozen albums into her career, Holly Golightly still sounds enthused. Hot on the heels of her throwback album, Slowtown Now, comes a new volume of the Brokeoffs lo-fi rhythm and blues. Together with Lawyer Dave, Golightly essays blues, soul, gospel, tango and waltzes, all with the rhythmic underpinnings that have become the duo’s trademark. The album’s percussion is more musical than the junkyard clang of earlier releases, and the arrangements more developed, but the performances still have the sheen of first takes. Golightly handles most of the lead vocals, though Lawyer Dave has just the right level of self-sorriness to lead “Jump in the River.â€
The duo can still harmonize like an amped-up, down-and-dirty version of Richard & Mimi Farina, preaching the garage gospel of “Heaven Buy and Buy†and grinding through the blues “Little Mule.†But the duo have expanded their musical reach, and though they maintain the feel of the Brokeoffs, a few of these songs could have fit equally well on Golightly’s solo album. The title track has a good beat, is easy to dance to, and includes a terrific guitar solo from the Brokeoffs neighbor (and Guadalcanal Diary co-founder), Jeff Walls. The ballad “What He Does,†sung here as plaintive country, includes a double-tracked vocal that suggests a connection to girl groups.
The album features two covers, starting with Mr. Sunshine & His Guitar Pickers’ 1951 stringband number “Marijuana, the Devil’s Flower.†Sung here with banjo and fiddle, the performance is ready to stoke a fit of temperance. But it’s the album’s second cover, “Karate,†that could really break the band worldwide. The 1967 original (whose lyrics were rewritten by Carlos Santana for “Everybody’s Everythingâ€) didn’t ignite a martial arts dance craze (and not for want of trying, but the honor goes to Carl Douglas’ mid-70s “Kung Fu Fightingâ€), but who’s to say the time isn’t ripe for a comeback? In a just world, the Brokeoffs would be siphoning off some of Psy’s 2.5 billion YouTube views with a video that features Elvis’ on-stage katas in Las Vegas.
Cilla Black, who passed away in August at the age of 72, was a lifelong star in her native Britain. In the US she scored a Top 40 hit with 1964’s “You’re My World†(a chart topper in the UK), and landed two more in the bottom half of the Top 100. Back at home she was a major recording star into the early 1970s, and a favorite television personality for decades afterwards. Black’s career began with an introduction to Brian Epstein by her fellow Liverpool musician, John Lennon. In turn Black was introduced to George Martin and signed to Parlophone, home of the Beatles, as well as another Epstein act, Billy J. Kramer with the Dakotas.
Like Kramer, Black was seeded with Lennon & McCartney material, and her first single, “Love of the Loved†cracked the Top 40. Additional L&M material was threaded into her run of hits, including “It’s For You†(which includes a verbal introduction from John Lennon on this set) and “Step Inside Love.†But unlike Billy J. Kramer, Black’s biggest hits came from other songwriters. Her second single, a cover of Bacharach & David’s “Anyone Who Had a Heart,†shot to #1, and was followed the same year by a chart-topping cover of Umberto Bindi’s 1963 single “Il Mio Mondo,†translated into English as “You’re My World.†She continued to land singles in the Top 10 through 1971’s “Something Tells Me (Something’s Gonna Happen Tonight),†which closes this collection.
Those looking for a history of native-made Hawaiian music may be disappointed by this set. But they’re about the only ones. Most will enjoy the four discs’ and 102-page hardbound book’s exposition of Hawaiian music and its multiple eruptions in mainstream entertainment. While the set does include a helping of native-made Hawaiian sounds, particularly on disc three, its reach is wider and its statement broader. In both sights and sounds, this set essays both the roots of Hawaiian music, and its many manifestations in pop culture. As the book’s photographs and sheet music art demonstrate, Hawaii has long been both a destination and a mythology, and there are few places the two elements have fused more fully than in music.
Tempted by brilliant poster imagery and stoked by the speed of plane travel, South Seas tourism flourished in the ‘40s and ‘50s. Upon arriving in the Hawaiian islands, visitors found both authentic and ersatz culture awaiting them. And upon their return to the states, tourists brought back memories and souvenirs that served to deepen Hawaii’s allure as both a vacation getaway and a dramatic visual setting. Hawaii has provided a picturesque backdrop for films, television shows, commercials and even cartoons, and its songs and instruments (particularly the ukulele and steel guitar) provided material for a surprisingly wide range of non-Hawaiian artists. Hulaland pays homage to the stateside displays of Hawaiiana that grew from island roots, blossoming in Hollywood, Chicago, New York and elsewhere.
The set opens with Louis Armstrong singing “On a Little Bamboo Bridge,†backed by the Waimea-born Andy Iona and his group, the Islanders. Iona’s mix of traditional melodies and American swing provided a welcome spot for the New Orleans-born Armstrong, and together they lay out a template of the set’s riches. Disc one includes Hawaiiana from several unlikely artists, including Jo Stafford, Ethel Merman, Burns & Allen, Dorothy Lamour and the yodeling country star, Slim Whitman. The disc explores everything from kitschy ‘30s cartoon themes to ‘50s steel-guitar swing, and shows how Hawaiian music was popularized by native-born artists, collaborators and appropriators.
Hawaiiana threaded into popular music throughout the ‘50s and ‘60s, with Martin Denny and Arthur Lyman developing their inventive strain of exotica in the mid-50s. Disc two explores these exotic sounds as their waves echoed in a stateside culture gripped by rock ‘n’ roll and surf music. Here you will find the full flower of American media’s fascination with Hawaii in the television themes from “Hawaii Five-O,†“Hawaiian Eye,†and a lap steel variation on “Peter Gunn.†Also included are selections from several of exotica’s pioneers, and others, like organist Earl Grant and guitarist Billy Mure, who were swept up by the wave. By the early ‘60s, Hawaiian music was often more of an ancestral headwater than a direct tributary to the mainstream, as classic island themes were rendered with twanging electric guitars, sung in doo-wop vocals and accompanied by jazz arrangements.
Disc three returns the listener to the 1930s for a disc of Hawaiian classics, waxed primarily in Los Angeles and New York, with a few Honolulu recordings thrown in for good measure. The song selections mirror some of the selections on the previous discs (e.g., “Hawaiian War Chant†and “Ukulele Ladyâ€), providing listeners an opportunity to compare. Disc four splits the difference by sampling contemporary acts that play a wide range of material (including the Ventures’ “Walk Don’t Runâ€) in vintage style. The time hopping between and within the discs adds to the image of Hawaii as a timeless, Xanadu-like paradise. The set’s old-timey acoustic music blends surprisingly well with the Hawaiian-themed jazz and rock, and the last disc’s contemporary performances are powered by the same breezes as the set’s earliest tracks.
Stirring tribute to a brilliant, largely unknown songwriter
The fellowship of songwriters is one that evokes appreciation in place of jealousy, and more often spurs “how’d you do that?†rather than “why didn’t I?†Songwriters appreciate one another’s songs at the emotional level of listeners, but also at the intellectual level of craftspeople. And when they play another songwriter’s material, it’s a compliment and possibly a favor, but mostly a way to better understand and enjoy the song and the songwriter. Darrell Scott hits all these notes with this album of ten songs by the virtually unknown songwriter Ben Bullington, and in interpreting another songwriter’s material, he tells the songwriter and the listeners something about himself.
Scott and Bullington developed a deep friendship that lasted only a short time before Bullington’s 2013 death, and much of that time was spent as friends, rather than musical colleagues. It wasn’t until a year before Bullington’s passing that Scott heard many of Bullington’s songs, and it wasn’t until only a few months before Bullington’s death that Scott began singing his friend’s material. Bullington had a full-time medical practice in Montana, and though he self-released several CDs, his touring, and thus his public renown as a songwriter remained limited during his lifetime.
Scott began recording his songs with an iPhone and sending them for his friend to hear during his last few months. The last track on the album, the prophetically titled “I’ve Got to Leave You Now,†is one of those recordings. Eight of the tracks were laid down in three days, just Scott, single instruments (guitar, banjo or piano) and Bullington’s songs. The tenth track, Bullington’s sharp slap, “Country Music I’m Talking to You,†was recorded live on tour. These performances express pure appreciation for the craft of a master songwriter, and they’re played and sung by a master performer, who is himself a master songwriter. Bullington’s songs aren’t good for a doctor, they’re just good. Really good.
Bullington was both an imaginative writer and a fine craftsman. His first-person narratives bring the listener into his experiences, illuminating moments that the listener may have experienced for themselves. His language is poetic in its plain spokenness, wonderful in the way that seemingly extemporaneous speech is made to rhyme in rhythm; doubly so in the hands of Darrell Scott, who sings the melodies, but more strikingly tells the songs as stories – just the way Bullington wrote them. “Born in ‘55†recounts the puzzling sadness young people felt in the wakes of JFK, MLK and RFK’s passings, and the awareness and anger that grew with each passing assassination. Scott’s elegiac piano is as sad as the lyrics, and gives the song the feel of something Jackson Browne might have written.
Raised in Virginia, Bullington attended college at Vanderbilt, soaking up the roots music that had first grabbed him in high school. After a spell in the oil industry he attended medical school and settled into a practice in a small Montana town, where he found time to re-engage with music. His original songs led to self-produced CDs which found numerous fans among Nashville’s roots music elite, a 2012 date at the Station Inn, and now this tribute. Scott has selected several songs that lean on memories, and whether they’re actual memories or a songwriter’s creations, they evoke immediate resonance, whether or not the listener had a problematic step-father, a love that faded away or has spent time in the wide open spaces of the northern states.
Indie rock from the UK – powerful and melodic. Vocalist Stuart Rook has a waver in his voice that may remind you of Bryan Ferry, Robin Wilson or Feargal Sharkey. Their latest music video can be found below (and more here), and the ten-song EP Get Some Scars is available for free download here.
Roy Orbison’s titanic career had four distinct phases. His late ‘50s work for Sun set him up for his most commercially successful period at Monument in the early 1960s. And his return to stardom in the 1980s came after a period of retrenchment. In between, from 1965 through 1973, Orbison recorded a dozen albums for MGM, but edged only a few titles into the lower regions of the U.S. Top 40, including 1965’s “Ride Away†and “Breakin’ Up is Breakin’ My Heart,†and 1966’s Johnny Rivers-styled “Twinkle Toes.†Orbison’s late ‘60s and early ‘70s releases fared better in Australia, Canada and the UK, but amid the rising tide of of the British Invasion, folk rock and psychedelia, competing releases from Monument, and a lack of consistent promotion from MGM, the stateside success of these recordings remained limited.
Orbison left Monument on a high note, with the chart-topping success of “Oh, Pretty Woman,†but in moving to MGM he left behind producer Fred Foster, engineer Bill Porter, and RCA’s Nashville studio. Orbison expected that MGM would expand his career into film and television, but other than the B-movie The Fastest Guitar Alive (whose soundtrack is included here) and a few song placements, his multimedia dreams failed to come true. What he did get was an extraordinary degree of artistic freedom that resulted in the production of eleven MGM album releases in nine years, all of which are included here. Also included in the box set is a twelfth album, The Big O, released in the UK by London in 1970, and a collection of non-LP singles and B-sides.
Though not the hit-making machine of his Monument days, Orbison courted commercial success by writing and recording an enormous number of tracks, touring in support of his releases, and staying true to his core strengths as an artist. His first album for MGM, There is Only One Roy Orbison, retained the string accompaniment of his biggest hits, but with songs that don’t reach the emotion-searing crescendos of his Monument material. There’s a country element to many of the productions, with tinkling, slip-note piano and Mexicali-flavored acoustic guitars providing melancholy sorrow in place of heart-breaking drama. Orbison’s vocal on a remake of “Claudette†is nicely engaged, though the backing arrangement has neither the simplicity of his Sun-era demo or the revved-up energy of the Everly Brothers’ B-side. The album doesn’t really hit full stride until the middle of side two, with “Afraid to Sleep,†one of the few non-original titles, but a classic Orbison-styled drama.
His second MGM album, The Orbison Way, mixed orchestral ballads with pop numbers backed by the Candy Men. The orchestral numbers reached greater emotional heights than his previous album, but the singles (“Crawling Back†and “Breakin’ Up is Breakin’ My Heartâ€) found a lot of new competition on the charts of late 1965, and the album, released early in 1966, failed to make a commercial impression. Whether the style was out of step with the sounds of the time, or MGM failed to provide adequate promotion, the songs are excellent, the arrangements solid, and Orbison deeply invested in his performances. There are several memorable album tracks, including the stalwart “Maybe,†and a soulful electric piano solo by future Atlanta Rhythm Section founder Dean Daughtry on “Go Away.â€
His next album, The Classic Roy Orbison, fared even worse commercially, with only the go-go “Twinkle Toes†denting the charts. The arrangements again include orchestration and band numbers, and though not as strong as the previous album, there are some true highlights, including the falsetto-laced “Pantomime,†the double-tracked vocal of “Going Back to Gloria†and the groovy beat of “Just Another Name for Rock and Roll.†The mid-tempo numbers don’t have the gravitas of Orbison’s best material, and the vocals don’t always sound deeply engaged. With his own writing failing to create hits, Orbison turned to an album of Don Gibson covers for 1967’s Roy Orbison Sings Don Gibson. It’s a comfortable, countrypolitan album, and Gibson’s songs fit Orbison well. Particularly worth hearing are Orbison’s reshaping of the classics “Sweet Dreams†and “Give Myself a Party.â€
A similar songwriting detour for 1970’s Hank Williams the Roy Orbison Way, met with a similar lack of commercial success. The album’s rock-inflected sound was neither fish nor fowl; not rootsy enough to catch the attention of rock audiences, and too pop to find favor with country radio. One could imagine these arrangements being used on a mainstream television variety show. The tracks that work best, like “You Win Again,†find Orbison’s croon meeting Hank Williams’ sorrow half way, though even here, a background wah-wah guitar provides a distractingly dated touch. Orbison’s 1967 foray into film, The Fastest Guitar Alive, didn’t fare much better commercially. The soundtrack’s western-themed, folk-styled arrangements are unusual within the MGM catalog, and remain terrifically listenable. The closing “There Won’t Be Many Coming Home†was written to the film’s Civil War theme, but had a resonance with the Vietnam war that made it problematic for a U.S. single release.
Cover songs again dominate 1970’s Big O, including an eclectic selection of material from John D. Loudermilk (“Break My Mindâ€), the Beach Boys (“Help Me, Rhondaâ€), Motown (“Moneyâ€), the Platters (“Only Youâ€), the Louvin Brothers (“When I Stop Dreamingâ€), Wilson Pickett (“Land of 1000 Dancesâ€) and Orbison’s Sun-era B-side, “Go, Go, Go (Down the Line).†Recorded in the UK with backing by the Art Movement, Orbison’s enthusiasm pulls together this seemingly disparate material with performances that are spirited and charming. MGM passed on a stateside release at the time, making this album particularly unfamiliar to U.S. ears.
1972’s Roy Orbison Sings includes material co-written with Bill Dees, as well as Monument-era foil, Joe Melson. By this point, Orbison’s commercial success had fully evaporated, including his UK and Australian chart action, markets in which London had found success with singles that MGM couldn’t move in the US. Despite the lack of commercial response, Orbison kept investing himself in both his songwriting and recording, and nearing the end of his contract, he was still coming up with a few great tracks on each album. His cover of “Rings of Gold†is heavier than Don Gibson and Dottie West’s hit, and the vocal on Eddy Raven’s “Plain Jane Country (Come to Town)†reaches back to the sound of his Sun singles. 1972’s Memphis has a few nice moments, including a soulful cover of Don Gibson’s “I Can’t Stop Loving You,†the original “It Ain’t No Big Thing (But It’s Growing),†and a thoughtful expansion of the classic “Danny Boy.â€
Closing out his contract with MGM, 1974’s Milestones feels like the end of a long haul. Ever the professional, Orbison gave the songs his best, highlighted by the original “Blue Rain (Coming Down)†and a cover of the Bee Gees’ “Words.†Capping the box set is a disc of sixteen non-LP singles and B-sides whose quality lends weight to Orbison’s complaint about MGM’s lack of promotional. Most of these A-sides could have been international hits, and even B-sides like “Shy Away†and “Flowers†should be better-known among Orbison’s recorded legacy. Though the albums were sprinkled with treasures, MGM B-Sides & Singles is a solid collection of memorable songs, clever productions and top-notch vocals. And even more so than the albums, the lack of commercial exposure and digital availability will make these single sides fresh to all but the most educated fans’ ears. The seven-minute, five-part “Southbound Jericho Parkway†is worth the price of admission on its own. The masters for this disc are stereo, except “So Good†and “So Young,†which are mono.
Socially astute singer-songwriter tours modern-day America
Born in Buffalo, just a few blocks from U.S. Route 62, Peter Case made his way to San Francisco to busk on the streets, then to Los Angeles where he spearheaded the late-70s power pop movement with the Nerves and Plimsouls. He’s since taken a more solitary road, touring with just his songs and guitar, gathering stories for his writing. Though not literally itinerant – he’s still homed in Los Angeles – his travels have traced the trails of those who inspire him. His latest collection of songs is titled after the northeast-to-southwest highway that runs through his hometown, and that his childhood eyes saw as a “connection to the world I wanted to live in, the American Westâ€
The productions step back to a folkier vibe from the electric blues of 2010’s Wig!, but retain the underlying power of drummer D.J. Bonebrake, and add the instrumental voices of guitarist Ben Harper and bassist David Carpenter. The songs wind through a variety of musical landscapes, just as Route 62 winds through Bobby Fuller’s El Paso, Buddy Holly’s Lubbock, Sonny Throckmorton’s Carlsbad, Woody Guthrie’s Okemah, Ronnie Hawkins’ Fayetteville, the Everly Brothers’ Central City, and Phil Ochs’ Columbus. The social consciousness of Guthrie and Ochs’ are evoked in the opening “Pelican Bay,†as Case questions the industrialization of America’s prisons and the particular harshness of solitary confinement.
A broader palette of social injustice is on Case’s mind as “Water From a Stone†segues between the travails of undocumented aliens, corporatism, global warming, the appropriation of Native American lands, rising eviction rates, crushing educational debt and outsourced manufacturing. Justice is called into question again in both “Evicted†and “All Dressed Up (for Trial),†with the latter suggesting that final judgment isn’t necessarily a mortal matter. That same leveling in the afterlife provides redemption for the existential lament “The Long Good Time,†and turns the gravesite of “Bluebells†into a pastoral place to leave behind one’s foibles.
Excellent, but surprisingly unannotated collection of Carter Family songs
