Tori Amos: Winter
[purchase]
Every time I hear this song... I can see the dripping icicles hanging from the gutters, feel the chill of the snow piled on the lawns... and overhear the conversation between the father and the daughter - winter becomes a metaphor for loving... and leaving... and change's counterpart is constancy... and our hearts are warmed...
A strange thing happened to me today. I started my day outside, shoveling ten inches of new snow. When the job was done, I came inside. Intellectually, I knew that the work I had done meant that we were free to leave the house if we wished. But, emotionally, I felt snowed in. I knew that we could go, but I knew that we wouldn’t. This feeling sometimes overcomes songwriters too, especially regarding relationships. Here are two of the finest examples I know of of what I mean.
Eliza Carthy: Whispers of Summer
[purchase]
You might have noticed my posting earlier this week of a song by Martin Carthy. Eliza is his daughter, but her work as a solo artist is quite different from his. Here, she describes the aftermath of a broken relationship. Summer exists for her only as a memory or a dream. In her waking life, winter holds sway.
Dar Williams: February
[purchase]
Dar Williams’ winter scene is even bleaker. It is so cold that even her memory is being frozen away. The song is the most vivid description of being emotionally stuck that I have ever heard of. The last verse talks about a new lover and preparing for winter. But the listener is left to wonder: is this a renewed hope, or a flashback?
Martin Carthy: Lord Franklin
[purchase]
Lord Franklin and his crew of 100 sailors set out on a brave quest for the North West Passage, and they never returned. That was all that was known for 12 years. That was time enough for Franklin to become a hero and the subject of a legend. And it was plenty of time to write a song about him.
My favorite version of the song is by Pentangle, but we have already heard from them this week. I had not been aware of Carthy’s version. He sets up a counter rhythm in his guitar part, and delivers the vocal in fine style, inhabiting the emotion of the song completely. But, on the original album release, Carthy had this to say about the song in his liner notes:
“Sir John Franklin set out with two ships, the “Erebus” and the “Terror”, on his second attempt to discover the North West Passage and was never heard of again. It was almost twelve years before the story of what had actually happened to the expedition was finally pieced together. After sailing round the island in the far north of Canada, the ships, predictably, became trapped in the ice; what was completely unexpected, however, was that the lime juice stored in barrels became useless and half the crews of both ships died of scurvy. Some of the others decided to strike across country for a mission station, but one by one they died on the journey. How they managed to die in country that was full of game where Eskimos had lived for generations is a mystery. The real tragedy was Franklin's blunder in not allowing for such a contingency: he had taken along beautiful tea-services, flags and dress uniforms for the celebrations when their mission was accomplished, instead of extra food supplies. Several rescue operations were mounted, one by Lady Franklin herself from the proceeds of public fund she started for that purpose, after the Admiralty had washed it hands of the whole affair, having itself failed in a rather desultory rescue attempt. The truth was actually discovered by an expedition in which the United States Navy took part.”
Ween: Cold Blows the Wind
[purchase]
"Cold Blows the Wind", from Ween's The Mollusk, is an old Child Ballad, also known as "The Unquiet Grave". In the song, a woman spends a year and a day mourning the death of her lover. Then he rises from the grave and basically tells her to get over him, so he can finally achieve eternal peace. To get rid of her, he asks her to get him several impossible things, such as water from a stone. Does it work? In Ween's version, apparently not. The song ends with her pledging to weep at his grave for another year and a day.
James Taylor: Frozen Man
[purchase]
We've posted numerous James Taylor songs in our time here at Star Maker Machine, but none so recent as this one - an interesting commentary on the aging of the popular, given that the song is almost 20 years old. But our preference for James' earliest work is not, after all, atypical: though James still makes waves on the nostalgia circuit, generally, audiophiles cite his early, delicate folkwork as his heyday, and most eschew his lighter fare, especially the radio-ready products of his late seventies and early eighties poprock period, while ignoring the vast majority of what has come out since.
Count me an exception to the rule, then. For I have great respect for James' late-to-mid-career work, flawed though much of it it may be. And that goes especially for 1991 release New Moon Shine, and later nineties album Hourglass.
This song is a great example of James' middle-age period: contemporary, to be sure, and highly produced in that inevitable AAA-format folkpop style, it nonetheless manages to attain poignancy without resorting to the older formulae of confession and broken-souled youth so typical of his early work. Instead, here JT takes on the character of a man awoken out of time after being frozen in the ice for centuries, speaking to our middle-aged fears of loneliness and loss in the midst of full-flourish plastic culture in ways that few can attain at their best, either.
It's no Millworker, and it's certainly no Sweet Baby James. There's a veneer of cultural criticism here and elsewhere on the same album which is not so much forced as just plain obvious, in ways that only a middle-aged famous person might produce. But in the end, the viewpoint is tender, and the story unique; for what it claims to be, this is good, solid stuff, creative, sentimental almost to a fault, but nonetheless music from a master who can still hit the emotional high notes.
Oh, hell: let's be clear. It makes me ache, for myself and for all the loved ones that are and might have been in my life. Isn't that the true test of good music, under all our words?
Shelleyan Orphan: Ice
[purchase]
Since I live in South Florida, I have been joking off-list with my fellow Star Makers about this week's theme, faux-innocently asking "what is this cold you speak of?" - I was promptly reminded of the arctic wave that blasted us the first two weeks of last month, in which the orange trees froze, I turned on our heat (for the first time in years)... and I didn't leave the house for four days...
But I digress...
I rarely step foot into a music store these days, now purchasing my CDs directly from the artist at shows or ordering online, either through the artist's website or via Amazon - however, I used to be a cut-out bin junkie (albums, cassettes or CDs, depending upon the era), loving nothing better than to spend hours flipping through the stacks, unearthing an old favorite or a new discovery (at those prices, you could afford to take chances!)...
Camelot Music... Perimeter Mall... Atlanta, Georgia... February 1992 - I found Acoustic Christmas for $1.00. I couldn't believe my luck (would you just look at that tracklist?!?) and immediately scooped it up. It more than lived up to my expectations... and the following December found me making the first mix CD of what is now an annual holiday tradition - we had just moved to South Florida from Atlanta and I had the blues, living so far away from my mom, brother and sister...
I envisioned a song cycle of emotion, segueing from melancholy and sadness to redemption and acceptance... and decided to title it Have Yourself a *Mellow* Little Christmas, using Shawn's cover as the cornerstone final song - the Shelleyan Orphan tune stopped me cold (pun intended) on first listen, and I knew it was destined for inclusion in this musical journey...
I knew nothing about what-I-thought-was-a-her-but-only-recently-discovered-was-a-group... only that the haunting voice, the bittersweet lyrics and the eclectic musicianship made it the perfect track 2 (following In the Bleak Mid-Winter) - I love the way my mix rollercoasters from head-in-the-oven futility to everything's-going-to-be-okay affirmation (Juliana Hatfield's Make It Home and Kate Bush's December Will Be Magic Again)... and I still carve out special time each holiday season to plug in the tree, light a few candles, pour myself a glass of wine and listen to my homemade compilation start-to-finish uninterrupted... to remind myself that without the sorrow we wouldn't appreciate the joy...
All this because of a song on a CD found in the cut-out bin - the power of music indeed...
John Hiatt: Icy Blue Heart
[purchase]
I can see my breath when I hear this song. John Hiatt makes you feel the chill in the air. This probably takes place in a well heated bar, but that heat isn’t reaching these two. Yes, cold is an extended metaphor for matters of the heart, but it’s no less real for that.
Little Feat: Cold, Cold, Cold
[purchase]
What this blog needs is more Little Feat. And luckily, they've got just the tune for our frigid theme.
Published on the cusp of the Zeppelin seventies, this Sailin' Shoes deep cut starts with cold tapping iron and then crashes into a stark drumbeat and a sax-and-guitarfuzz riff that totally overwhelm the lyrics. Thanks to a jagged rhythmic offset between one and the other, and some carefully balanced production dynamics, the instrumentation comes off as less a full wall of sound than a set of frozen, disparate, distant elements, even when the chorus kicks in.
The resulting song is an epic representation of the heartbeat of the lonely and abandoned...or the deserted, penniless junkie in desperate need of a fix, if you choose to interpret the "woman" of the song as something bit more metaphoric.
Bonnie Raitt's late-nineties "cover", off an otherwise-solid Lowell George tribute, warms the song up unnecessarily, cranking the dial up past sentimental. But it's still worth inclusion, if only for contrast.
Bonnie Raitt w/ Little Feat: Cold, Cold, Cold
[purchase]
Captain Beyond: Frozen Over
[purchase]
Progressive rock, heavy blues, wild jazz and frickin' SPACE! Captain Beyond's spicy hard rock gumbo had all the right ingredients.
Consisting of a dude from Deep Purple and two dudes Iron Butterfly, Captain Beyond was a veritable who's who of early 1970's proto heavy metal. Between 1972 and 1977 they released three must-own albums full of delectables, every bit as good as anything their associated acts ever released.
Frozen Over is my favorite song off of the first album, mainly because the ominous lyrics never fail to give me the chills (pun intended):
Honey, your face is frozen
Frozen as could be
Baby, your face is like a block of ice
Cold as the deep dark sea
The fantastic photo at the top of this post was lovingly nicked from this fansite, which is not only informative and fun, but has a layout that makes you nostalgic for the painfully slow dial-up days of 1996 when Netscape and unofficial fansites made life worth living.
Pentangle: Rain and Snow
[purchase]
Like many old blues songs, "Rain and Snow" (more commonly known as "Cold Rain and Snow) seems to be an amalgam of several old folk songs. I have fourteen version of this song of marital woe by the Grateful Dead alone, but this version by British folk-rockers Pentangle remains my favorite. It comes from their 1971 album Reflection, where the band members were really expanding their influences. This song alone features both banjo and sitar (provided by the band's guitarists, Bert Jansch and John Renbourn, respectively), and it's that seemingly unlikely combination that makes it stand out for me.
The Smiths: Cemetry Gates
Homepage
On account of me being a huge idiot I never saw The Smiths in concert even though I had two different opportunities to do so.
I can't tell you how much I regret missing those chances to see them.
This track is from a Los Angeles concert in the summer of 1986, right at the height of their powers. This is one of the two crowds that I could have and should have been in.
I have been to classical music and jazz concerts, and even a performance by Ravi Shankar, where the audience sat and listened. Yes, these were exciting shows, displays of wonderful artistry. Folk and rock shows can be like that too. And I would gladly go. But sometimes, the performance presenter needs to make sure that there are no seats clogging up the hall, because it’s time to dance!
Big Bad Voodoo Daddy: Oh Yeah
[purchase]
Oh Yeah, indeed. The horns are blowing, the rhythm is tight, and no one has to be told to “get on up”. Big Bad Voodoo Daddy show exactly why they were one of the best new swing bands of the 90s.
Delbert McClinton: Standing on Shaky Ground
[purchase different live version]
Standing on Shaky Ground was written by Walker Ickard, but claimed by Delbert McClinton. McClinton started out backing touring blues musicians, before going on to have hits on the country, pop, and R & B charts. He is one of those artists who is best known to other musicians. His Standing on Shaky Ground really cooks.
The Dirty Dozen Brass Band: Don‘t You Feel My Leg
[purchase studio version]
As the night progresses, there is a point in the show where the band takes the pace down a bit. Now is your chance to get closer to the one you’ve been dancing with at such a furious pace. But how close is too close?
The time is Halloween night, 1993. The scene, Tramps in New York City. As the rest of the Dirty Dozens lay down a groove, front man Gregory tells the tale of an encounter with a rabbit. Then the band goes into a slow burn for a tale of intimacy gone awry. This one comes with a rudeness warning for younger ears.
The Uptones: Rude Boy
[purchase different live version]
And then it’s time to ramp it up again, for a dance that leaves them wanting more. As with much of The Uptones’ work, this one straddles the line between reggae and ska. There is even a dub break toward the end. In reggae, dub is an effect usually created in the studio, but here The Uptones manage it from the stage. It’s a nice trick, and they manage it not only without losing the beat, but also without dropping the energy level.
Fred Eaglesmith: Drive In Movie
Fred Eaglesmith: Harold Wilson
[purchase]
I recently saw Fred Eaglesmith and his band at a small coffeehouse in South Florida - you can read the full review on my own blog here (if only to enjoy his "nuns and heaven" joke!)...
The group is musically tight, Fred is riotously funny and they can rock out like nobody's business (see Boyhowdy's take on Freight Train here) - I'm already composing a post for Leftovers Week of Fred's remaining train songs... :-)
What the evening reinforced to me, however, is the stunningly-poetic nature of Fred's lyrics... and his absolute ability to Break... Your... Heart - I couldn't choose between so you get both (one personal, one topical), which I can justify since it's a 2-disc set. Break out the Lone Star and the Kleenex - then go buy this Official Bootleg Series Volume 2 (Volume 1 is Fred solo)...
***As I went back and forth between the two songs, in an attempt to narrow it down, I realized both included the phrase "down the pike" - Meant to Be...
Neil Young & the International Harvesters: Grey Riders
[commercially unavailable]
[Neil Young's Official Website]
Neil Young's country album, Old Ways bears only a passing resemblance to his live shows of the time. The album is burdened with over-the-top, slick '80s country production, But his live backing band, the International Harvesters, could rock when called upon. "Grey Riders" is an unreleased song from their late '85 tour. It's one of my favorites from this period. Lyrically, it's little more than a rewrite of "Ghost Riders in the Sky", but it boils over with atmospheric intensity.
I seem to recall that at some point Neil was forced by the International Harvester Company to rename the band, and they became The Grey Riders in late '85, but so far the only confirmation I have of this is my own not-well-documented (and long-abandoned) research from my early days on the Internet and the cover of the ROIO used for this entry's photo (and we know how accurate they can be!), so I've stuck with the "International Harvesters" moniker for this recording.
Barrett Strong: I Heard It Through The Grapevine
[purchase used for 80 bucks!]
It's unusual to find a live performance from Barrett Strong, who spent most of his career behind the music, cranking out songs for other artists both with and without producer Norman Whitfield - though it's worth noting that Barrett's original 1959 version of Money (That's What I Want), which would go on to make so much money for The Beatles, was the very first hit record for Berry Gordon's Motown Label. Though this technically classifies Strong as a one-hit wonder, there's no denying his influence on the rise of the Motown sound: in addition to the vast majority of songs from the Temptations' "psychedelic soul" era, his writing credits include War, Smiling Faces Sometimes, I Heard It Through The Grapevine, and Papa Was A Rolling Stone, which won Strong a 1973 Grammy for best R&B song.
This rare, out-of-print recording of Barrett performing a pensive, soulful version of his own composition, recorded in the early nineties at NYC's famous Bottom Line, comes from the first volume of In Their Own Words, a two-release set of live singer-songwriter work hosted by popular WFUV host Vin Scelsa. Barrett's intro, provided as a separate track on the same collection, provides no small insight into the life of a Motown staff writer, and the culture of Motown writ large. The voices and strings heard in the song's background include Shawn Colvin, Richard Thompson, and others present on that fateful night.
Webb Sisters: If It Be Your Will
[purchase]
As many have declared, it was a religious experience to finally see Leonard Cohen live a few months ago, after decades of love/obsession with his music - a full concert review can be found on my own blog here...
I started out this week with every intention of posting a track from Leonard Cohen Live in London... sung by LC himself - however, with only a guitar and a harp, Hattie and Charley, two of his back-up singers (The Sublime Webb Sisters, as he called them all evening) transformed a brief turn in the spotlight covering one of his original compositions into something magnificent and magical, and I knew I wanted to showcase them instead...
The track begins with Cohen speaking the first two verses of his poetic tune - swoon...
Neil Young: No One Seems to Know
[commercially unavailable]
[Neil Young's Official Website]
Despite all the hiss on the recording, I've always been partial to this short, haunting piano ballad. It debuted in 1976 (this version comes from a concert in March of that year in Osaka, Japan). After laying dormant for years, it was revived for his 2007 tour. But like dozens of his songs, it remains officially unreleased.
Baby Grandmothers: Being Is More Than Life
[purchase]
In 1967 Swedish rockers T-Boones left their beat/r'n'b origins behind and moved into looser, more psychedelic territories to keep up with the times. The newly opened rock club Filips in Stockholm needed a house band, so co-owner Bill Öhrström signed them on and re-named them Baby Grandmothers.
During their brief existence from September 1967 to July 1968 they managed to squeeze in one recording session and a quick tour with Jimi Hendrix, during which Hendrix cut his hand on a mirror while smashing a hotel room in Gothenburg and bled all over Öhrström's expensive Afghan coat.
Their only official release as Baby Grandmothers was the single Somebody Keeps Calling My Name/Being Is More Than Life, recorded in March of 1968 while on tour in Finland. Nobody took any notice as only 300 copies were pressed and it was only released in Finland. Legend has it the reason they only recorded a single and not a full LP was because guitarist Kenny Håkansson's amp couldn't take the pressure and broke down during the second song, bringing the session to an unexpected halt.
In 2007 Subliminal Records did the world a huge favor and re-released the now impossible to find 1968 single (to be honest it was probably impossible to find in 1968 too) along with four live cuts recorded at Filips, and one from the Finnish tour. The highlight of this release, in yours truly's humble opinion, is the slow-burning live rendition of Being Is More Than Life, a full 14 minutes longer than the studio cut. It will melt your brain.
Carbon Leaf: Banish Misfortune
[purchase official Carbon Leaf releases here]
One of the joys of seeing a band live is hearing them tackle a tune that they haven’t recorded. Carbon Leaf, in their early days, were known for the Celtic folk influence in their music. But they never made an official recording of Banish Misfortune. This is a traditional Irish tune, but it is also found in the repertoire of many American folk artists, especially in the South. Carbon Leaf gives it a light rock touch, while retaining the flavor of a folk tune.
