More than Georgia on My Mind

Anthology (Ray Charles): Greatest hits from an R&B master. Sometimes I get down on Greatest Hits collections. I mean, sometimes it's unfair to present "the hits" in a package that takes everything out of context (see previous post about deep dives). That said, I own my share of Greatest Hits type discs (as will become painfully apparent when we get to "G"), though many of those have mental caveats attached to them, things like "I really should get some more of so-and-so," mostly because I feel the need to hear the tracks that came with the one that became a hit.

Anyway, I really love the funky stuff - Ray was so much more than "Georgia on My Mind" though you can't fault him for that. Many of these tracks showcase a seriously swingin' band, with killer horns. One Mint Julep is a smokin' track.

At some point, it seems there was a groundswell (perhaps one comment, endlessly amplified in the blogosphere) suggesting that we change the national anthem to America the Beautiful. Something about The Star-Spangled Banner having so many battle references or something, though the verses of America the Beautiful outside of the one everybody knows (and sings on Sundays at baseball games since 9/11) are a little weird, with all the "liberating strife" and whatnot. All I know is, if we ever do make the change, I say only Ray sings it. At the least, his version becomes the official version.

Patitucci via Deep Dive

Another World (John Patitucci): Mr. Patitucci is an excellent jazz bassist. I discovered him via a deep dive, after purchasing Chick Corea Elektric [sic] Band Eye of the Beholder. I really really enjoyed that CD, and the deep dive ended up with my purchasing additional CDs from most of the Elektric Band performers (Mr. Patitucci, Dave Weckl (drums), Eric Marienthal (sax), and Frank Gambale (guitar)). Strangely, I never dug up more of Chick's stuff.

I may be mixing metaphors here, so I'll talk a bit about deep dives. As far as I know, deep dive is a term the consulting world has repurposed. It just means to go beneath the surface, to dig into the details. Deep dives in music can be very rewarding, and there are many types. That is, if you're digging Primus, maybe you need to listen to some Rush, then some old Yes and Led Zeppelin. By finding out who the people you dig dug (Dig Dug!), you can start to see why some of their stuff sounds like it does. Another approach is to listen to a single artist in different bands or periods - for instance Clapton in John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, Cream, Derek and The Dominos, etc., or to listen to solo recordings of individual band members, as I've done here.

Back to this CD: the mood here is a little world-lite, with an afro-pop feel to the whole thing. Killer playing, probably accessible enough for listeners of happy jazz (and a happy upgrade for them).

Melange

Annunciation (subdudes): This band is half Colorado, half New Orleans. I discovered them upon moving to Colorado, when my brother gave me one of their CDs (not this one). New Orleans funk meets laid-back Colorado. Mean slide guitar, nice accordion fills. Nice melange, this.

Siren Song

Angels in the Crowd (Wendy Woo): Dana and I had planned on spending a fall Saturday strolling the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder, hanging with the trustafarians. When we got up there, it turned out there was a Fall Fair of some sort. Sidewalk sales, more buskers than usual, live music, the works. While walking from one shop to another, I heard a voice calling to me, siren like. It turned out to be Wendy Woo. We stayed for the rest of her set, bought a CD (not this one), and caught a couple more shows.

Wendy has an incredible voice, and is a most excellent guitarist. Her songwriting isn't shabby either. She has no label, so here's Proof #2 that good music exists outside of what the big labels think we should be listening to. She's an excellent live performer, whether in a coffeehouse acoustic setting or a full-on electric bar band. Within that range, this album is pretty mellow - think glass of chardonnay, as opposed to mug of stout.

Straight-up Rock

Amorica (The Black Crowes): Straight-Up rock. Less mainstream than Shake Your Money Maker, maybe? Good, but not particularly moving. Like listening to Classic Rewind (Sirius 15, XM 49), I don't feel challenged. I'm getting further in now, and there are songs here that make me want to be a drummer (see Live). I like those songs. I like when that happens. Someday I'm going to buy drums, but I doubt I'll ever be any good. It gets better as it goes. Reminds of the Allman Brothers, when they're rocking (no country here).

Ethereal Rock

Amnesiac (Radiohead): Another recommendation by Mr. Pearce. Well, that's not 100% true. My buddy Joe C. first exposed me to Radiohead via OK Computer. When Dave saw I had this on my iPhone, he made sure I heard some more Radiohead. How do you classify this? Ethereal? Why would you want to be in this band? That said, I enjoy the spaces, places, feelings, moods, whatever, that Thom Yorke and company create, despite what Miley Cyrus thinkg. This was an excellent follow-up to American V. With arrangements alternately sparse and lush, or sparsely lush, or maybe lushly sparse, and nothing too upbeat (like Jane's Addiction on lithium?), I was brought back up to 'normal' by this record. This morning at least.

Footnote: In the interim between when this was written, and when it was posted, I've really come to be a Radiohead fan. I find it excellent post-workout (cooldown) music.

One more from the man they call Cash

American V: A Hundred Highways (Johnny Cash): Johnny died before this album was completed. Though the vocals were done, final instrumentation had not been recorded. To some controversy, Rick Rubin (producer of the entire American series) decided to complete the record after Johnny's death. Like the rest of the American series, there are originals, covers, and re-recordings on this album. Many of the songs have a haunting quality, with lyrics that seem to foreshadow the end of the Man in Black's time on this earth. In particular, Like the 309 (the last song Johnny ever wrote), deals with death very frankly.

I first heard this record while listening to KRVS (local public radio station). I don't recall the show, but they played most of the record. Coincidentally, I was sitting, with Dana, Ellie, and our Siamese cat Zydeco on the eve of his death, with Dana and I crying (Ellie was too little to understand what was happening). Zydeco had been very ill, and we had been nursing his health for a couple of years. We had finally worked up the nerve to ask the vet if putting him to sleep was an option - he replied that most wouldn't have done as much as we had done. So, it was scheduled. The next morning, I was to drop Zydeco off at the vet for the last time. I picked him up a short time after and buried him in the woods behind our backyard. To this day I have a hard time listening to American V without having tears well up. That doesn't mean I don't listen to it. It's an incredible statement from an incredible man. Dana and I got Zydeco just before we were married in 1996. He died in the summer of 2006. We haven't had another pet since.

Back to Johnny telegraphing his death - I think people know when their time is coming. Listening to this record, it's hard to argue Johnny didn't know. My grandmother knew her time was coming, as did my grandfather. When my grandfather passed, my grandmother was worried about paying bills and such, because he always did that. When she began to look into these things, she found he had paid most accounts in advance by a few months, giving her time to get settled. They were not wealthy, and paying in advance was not his custom. When my grandmother passed, she had been hospitalized briefly for pneumonia. No one thought it life-threatening, though she passed quickly. When my father and his sister went to house to collect some things, they found she had laid out all her important papers (insurance and such) on the kitchen table. People know.

This record is just plain excellent. I for one am glad it was released. There is beautiful cello work in more than one track (maybe this is a Rick Rubin thing), which we know I'm a sucker for. The record is full of Johnny's typically sparse arrangements - less is more (though, to quote Frank Lloyd Wright: Less is only more where more is no good). Though the final interpretations were Rick's and the musicians', not Johnny's, they still had his already recorded vocals to work with.

Arrunnnhhh-aaa...

American Thighs (Veruca Salt): This is a one-off tune, not an album, purchased from iTunes. The song itself is Seether. I don't do this (cherry pick, or purchase from iTunes at all) very often. The companion to this song is The Breeders' Cannonball, another one off. Why is it a companion? Funny story. After I switched to Mac, I got a new scanner. While at my previous employer, I scanned receipts most Fridays to submit with expense reports. My scanner makes a little arrrunnnhhh-aaa sound like in Cannonball, but in the jukebox of my mind, that sound flips over to the Seether chorus at some point. I bought Seether one Friday because I felt I had to play the song while scanning receipts. To my dismay, the chorus was there, but not the arrunnnhhh-aaa sound that inspired the purchase. I phoned up the musically reliable Mr. Pearce, sang him arrunnnhhh-aaa (I first heard Seether (which I was confusing with Cannonball back then, I guess) while riding in his car, on S. Havana in Aurora, CO) and he correctly identified it as Cannonball. So, I bought that one too. I always think of these songs as companions, like Queen's We Will Rock You/We Are The Champions and ZZ Top's Waitin' For The Bus/Jesus Just Left Chicago, but they're my own personal little companions that no one else knows about. Sadly, my previous employer is no more, and while I no longer have to scan receipts (Yay?) on Fridays, I also don't listen to my little scanner-noise-inspired song companions on Fridays. All this from one (or is it two?) song(s).

Footnote: I will try to point out places I have invented new song titles/lyrics in a funny way - in this case, I thought it was Jesus Done Left Chicago (and he's bound for New Orleans)...

Mixed Homogeny

American Pie 2 (Soundtrack): Various artists, but for the most part, who can tell? Lots of generic crunch rock (I made that up - I think the accepted term is pop punk, an oxymoron if there ever was one) - Green Day clones. I think I got this free with the movie, or maybe just free, when I worked at United Artists. Fairly enjoyable, easily digestible. Next.

God Bless Johnny Cash

American IV: The Man Comes Around (Johnny Cash): Some really nice arrangements of some familiar songs. Basically a cover album full of the best kinds of covers. Real reinterpretations of songs, not just useless tripe like the Dixie Chicks' completely unnecessary cover of Fleetwood Mac's Landslide. Plus, I'm a sucker for a single cello accompaniment, as in Bridge Over Troubled Water. I'm also a sucker for stunt-casting of killer backup vocals. Fiona Apple sings about three unforgettable lines, also on Bridge. Cash also does a Hank Sr. tune on this album (I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry). As a bumper sticker seen in Midland, TX said: God Bless Johnny Cash.

Oh, I thought you said *Cherry* Garcia

American Beauty (Grateful Dead): I guess I'm unlike your typical Dead fan, in that a) I'm not obsessive about the band, and b) I prefer their studio stuff to their live stuff. I know, that's silly, especially when I already said I preferred Widespread Panic's live stuff (the same is true about String Cheese Incident). I don't know, I guess I'm a little bit of a recording quality snob. This is a bad thing, but I have a hard time listening to a sh*tty recording of anything, no matter how great the material itself is. So, the Dead's studio stuff is really good, especially considering it's now 30-40 years old. The live stuff, besides being sooo long, with sooo much pharmaceutical noodling, is often sub-par with respect to recording quality, in my humble opinion. There, I said it. I try out the Dead station on Sirius now and again, but don't stay there very long. Sorry. Peace and Love. So many good tunes on this album. The same as with The Beatles, I don't have "point in time" perspective for the Dead (unless you count Shades of Gray). Much like Abbey Road, I think many that consider themselves unfamiliar with this record would be surprised at how many songs they could singing along with: Box Of Rain, Friend Of The Devil, Sugar Magnolia, Ripple, Truckin'...

We got both kinds: Country *and* Western

Always and Forever (Randy Travis): Yep, there's some country on my iPod. And I'm in Texas today! A lot of the country I have is from around this period (late '80s to early '90s) - guys like Dwight Yoakam, Randy Travis, Clint Black. Back then there was a renaissance of sorts in country music, kind of a back to basics movement. Which reminds me, I don't have any George Jones albums. You may read about one soon. Anyway, Randy is one heck of a singer. With a range to rival George's, and a similar ability to make you believe it was his dog what died, his wife that done run off, an so on. Man, why does so much of my music make me want to drink? I could use a cold one right about now. Back to music bringing back memories, this brings back one particularly vivid one: The Yellow Rose, and Kip Sonnier. Well, that, and Donnie singing Always & Forever to Dana (his, not mine) at their wedding reception.

Somebody Bring Kevin a Scotch!

Allons Boire un Coup: A Collection of Cajun and Creole Drinking Songs (Various Artists): What happens when you put a bunch of Cajun musicians in a room stocked with alcohol and ask them to play drinking songs? This album is what happens. The second release from local label Valcour Records, this is Proof #1 (first in a series) that big name labels, big name producers, and big money are not a prerequisite for Really Good Music. Caution for first timers: Once you hear Courtney Granger sing a waltz, your life may never be the same. Haunting and soulful, Courtney's heritage flows freely, instantly transporting the listener back in time, to house dances on Saturday nights on the Cajun Prairie. Fais do do, bebe.

You read it here first: Chris Stafford is a force to be reckoned with. Stepping into a lead guitar role on a few tracks here, he shows that the fire is alive in young south Louisiana musicians.

Ask a Disco Guy

All-Time Greatest Hits (Kool & The Gang): Wow, what a morning this is shaping up to be. Mmm, sophisticated mama. Woo Hoo! Come on now. You wanna get down? Get your back up off the wall! You gotta feel it. Yeah, mmm hmm. Ride the pony. Oh yeah. Yes I will baby, yeah. Oooo! La La La La La La Woo Wee. Get down, get down. Yeah.

Mr. Smooth

All Time Greatest Hits (Barry White): No doubt a remnant from the Napster days at . Several of us dumped stuff onto a network share, then pulled it all down again. Not my thing. Not even for that special time, with that special lady (Aww yeah, baby). Not even for my You're the First, the Last, My Everything ringtone (for Dana) or for fond memories of restroom dance scenes from Ally McBeal. Nope, nothing can pull me through this. Skip.

First Artist Repeat!

Alien Love Child (Eric Johnson): The first artist repeat! More from the Tone Master. EJ finally recorded a live record, after convincing himself it was possible to have a potentially flawed recording out there for people to hear. Alien Love Child is the name they gave this live trio side project. Good stuff, this. Beautiful textures. Beautiful solo on Last House On The Block. Ok, at track five we get a guest blues singer cut from the "old black blues man" cloth. I love old black blues singers, as you will see, but it never fit for me here. I often skip these tracks, and I'm not a track skipper. Actually, it might be EJ that doesn't work well in this scenario. A simple 12-bar just doesn't let him compose and arrange and texturize, which are his strengths.

Footnote: This album is actually titled Live and Beyond, the group Alien Love Child. I probably edited the tags to have it sort with my other EJ stuff.

Layne Staley, R.I.P.

Alice In Chains (Alice In Chains): Yeah! \m/ \m/ I never ever (or ever never, as Ellie (and Lola) would say), not ever, get tired of listening to Alice In Chains. Incredibly moody guitar work from Jerry Cantrell, whose every move is matched by singer Layne Staley. I am truly sorry these guys aren't around anymore. I guess that's not quite correct. Layne Staley died in 2002. The band reformed in 2005, but I admit to not having heard any of their stuff with the new singer. This isn't my favorite AiC album, but it's an Alice In Chains album, which is more than I can say for a lot of other stuff.

Let's get a pizza

Aja (Steely Dan): Speaking of hazy rooms, I think that's where I was the first time I heard this. I could be wrong. I'm enjoying it, as always, but it's not sparking the urge to write. Until now. I Got The News, the penultimate track. Michael MacDonald on backup vocals. I don't know why, but something about his voice/delivery makes me laugh. Really though, how did these guys make it in the Pop/Rock (remember those signs in the record stores?) genre? I can't quite classify this stuff. I don't suppose that matters. It's good, regardless.

Needs More Cowbell

Ain't Life Grand (Widespread Panic): Dave Pearce (him again) put me onto these guys. He likes these guys a lot, while my jam-band tendencies lean more towards String Cheese Incident. He says SCI is too happy (since when is it bad to be happy?). These guys are kinda country, like the Eagles are kinda country. I have some live stuff I prefer to this album, though there are moments. The bad thing about this "journey"? My mood may not always be suited to what I'm listening to at the moment (like maybe now). However, it's too big a project to bite off without 100% commitment, so I need to suck it up and listen. If only the room were a little hazy...

To paraphrase Jules, EJ is the tone-f***in' master

Ah Via Musicom (Eric Johnson): Another kick-ass git-fiddler from Austin, TX. So crisp, so clean, so fluid. This is meticulously crafted guitar rock. I picture countless amps and effects, with knobs being twisted fractions of a revolution to dial in the sound just so. I had the privilege of seeing EJ live once in a small club in Denver. His stripped down live sound, with a trio, is something to behold. This record is probably best known for the athletic Cliffs of Dover.

Did someone leave this in my CD rack?

African Safari of Praise (David Mporampora): This is one of those CDs that I found one day in my collection, then wondered where it came from. The best I can figure, I saw this guy's group at a music festival. I have a few CDs that match this one almost identically - that is, I saw a group give a particularly inspired live performance, then picked up the CD, thinking it would serve as a memory of said performance. However, the CD ends up being a sterile, lifeless facsimile, and moves toward the dusty end of the shelf. This one (through the first track, at least) may be standing up better than the others I'm thinking about, but only marginally. Is this a curse of "festival bands"? I can think of a couple (Solas, beolach) where that is absolutely not the case, though. Even though it has a very South African vibe (think Paul Simon's Graceland), it's "praise" music, which really flies beneath (above, around?) my radar. I don't know, maybe somebody gave it to me? I really don't know where it came from. Maybe this was divine intervention - Tool's AEnima played just before this (but didn't garner a review).

Little Girl Voice, Big Girl Emotion

Acid Tongue (Jenny Lewis): Here's a rarity: while driving to work one day (in California), listening to KFOG, I was smitten by a "new music" track played by the morning crew. So smitten that I had to have the record, after just one listen to just one track. This is rare because I don't listen to much "new music" on the radio, and also because most morning shows don't play much music. I'm much more likely to purchase something I've heard on NPR than on mainstream radio. As a disclaimer, I should point out that although my tastes are not mainstream, they're not on the fringe either, but if you (and I) stick with this blog, that should become apparent.

As it turns out, my aforementioned erstwhile musical friend Dave Pearce had just purchased this, and also recommended it. Jenny Lewis, former child star (you might have seen her in Golden Girls, Growing Pains, Troop Beverly Hills, or a Jell-O commercial), also formerly of Rilo Kiley, is charming, disarming, and more on this follow up to her solo debut. See Fernando set the hook for me, and The Next Messiah - a Suite: Judy Blue Eyes for Generation X - reeled me in. Ms. Lewis is definitely capable of singing with her heart on her sleeve (Acid Tongue), something that always gets me. This is a great album for headphones - lots of subtlety that would otherwise be lost.

If her voice sounds familiar, you may have heard her soundtrack contribution to Disney's 2008 animated feature, Bolt.

Suitably Angsty

Above (Mad Season): Wow, where's my flannel? I'm not sure all of the late 90's grunge stuff has aged this well. Still, this does what all music does (to me anyway), and instantly transports me to another time and place. I moved to Denver, CO in 1995, and lived there until 2004. My friend Dave Pearce turned me on to this group, and also left the memorable lyric "Wake up young man, it's time to wake up" (from the opening cut - Wake Up) on my answering machine once when I was trying to sleep in. This supergroup of sorts was made up of the inimitable Layne Staley (Alice in Chains), Mike McCready (Pearl Jam), and a couple other lesser-known dudes. There was only one album. River of Deceit was probably the biggest hit, and while there are some misses on this one, it's mostly good, and still very listenable. Mad Season is at its best when Layne is at his best. In other words, I like this the most when it sounds most like Alice In Chains.

A Masterpiece, From Start to Finish

Abbey Road (The Beatles): I don't understand people that say they don't like The Beatles. Then again, I'm not much of a Neil Young/Bruce Springsteen/insert a few other Rolling Stone darlings' names here kind of fan, so what do I know? Having been born after Beatlemania, I never had the pleasure of waiting for new recordings, or any of that stuff. I just know these guys crafted good music, from their R&B based beginnings, all the way through their LSD based explorations.

My first Beatles memory is of finding my older brother's old 45 of I Want To Hold Your Hand. I played that thing till I thought I'd wear it out. Shortly after that I got the Magical Mystery Tour LP for a birthday gift, then discovered the "red" and "blue" Greatest Hits albums. Abbey Road, for me, is the standard by which all other Beatles records should be judged (at least when taken as a whole). Somehow, I went a long time without this record. A few Christmases ago, I saw Randy Jackson (Zebra guitarist/vocalist) at Grant Street Dancehall. He played a Beatles-heavy acoustic set that included the whole second side of Abbey Road, in order. I found a setlist of Randy's show online and started looking up all those familiar Beatles songs. When I found they were all on Abbey Road, I was off to Best Buy.

Note: The irony of my Rolling Stone comment above is that, while researching a couple of things for my review, I found that RS voted Abbey Road as the 14th greatest album of all time.

The Seed Is Planted

Earlier today (February 9, 2009) I traveled to Midland, TX to begin a new work assignment. This wouldn't be a big deal, except that I'd been home (on the bench) since the middle of November, 2008. While at home, I had lots of media at my disposal. Sirius, DirecTV, terrestrial radio, etc. I kept some sort of something on in the background most days. Back to Midland. It's quiet in the office I work in. Quiet like a morgue. I fired up my trusty 80GB iPod and asked the question: what to play? I decided to listen to every album on my iPod, in its entirety, in alphabetical order (by album title). I figure this'll take most of a year to accomplish. I've done it once before, about six years ago. I had a friend growing up that used to do it every so often (pre MP3, obviously) - it was easier then, as we had smaller music collections, and more free time. No sooner had I started listening than I felt the need to document what I was listening to, so I decided to put to use the rusty old blogger account I created about three years ago.

I know, a blog is so 5 minutes ago, but I wanted something more permanent than Facebook or Twitter. Something I could look back and laugh at later, much like my high school era "Teen of the Week" clipping from my hometown newspaper. The plan? To spotlight an album or three per day/week/month - whatever I can keep up with. If past performance were indeed a guarantee of future results, well, we can all expect this to peter out in a month or so, four tops. However, I'm going to try to buck the trend and stick with it.

I'm going to set some ground rules as I get started. I must listen in order, with the following exceptions: I can listen to new (purchased since the start of the journey) music whenever. I can listen to other stuff, like Sirius, if I want to. I can listen to other stuff as running accompaniment. I mean, I do have some mellow stuff that would just not be conducive to running, and I also have some terrible stuff that would cause me to want to veer off the sidewalk into traffic (or off the back of the treadmill), just to make it end. I can hear the quotes from the evening news now: Well, I seen him running, then he just hung a left in front of my bus. After I run him over, I stopped the bus, got out, and asked him if he was alright. It was then I heard Poison's Open Up and Say...Ah! streaming from his iPod headphones...