Judee Sill

Over the decades, much ink and electricity has been devoted to the question of "lost talents" in many spheres of endeavour, including music. One whose claim to this status has greater validity than most is the remarkable American singer-songwriter Judee Sill.

I had known the name Judee Sill for some years, largely as a by-product of my interest in the Californian music scene of the Seventies. However, it was only about four or five years ago that I discovered her compelling music, and the extraordinary and turbulent story of her life. The music instantly spoke to me, both because of its melodic inventiveness and its unusual and challenging themes. Her blend of influences was also untypical for musicians of her time.

Judee Sill was the first artist to be signed to Asylum Records, which was also the home for artists such as Jackson Browne, the Eagles, Joni Mitchell and Tom Waits. She released two albums in the early Seventies, both of which displayed enormous promise and potential. However, various factors led to her disappearance from the scene, and she passed away in 1979, aged just 35.

Her music occasionally exhibits superficial similarities with her contemporaries in the singer-songwriter milieu, such as Browne and Mitchell, but such comparisons grossly over-simplify matters. The lyrics were unlike most of what was around, in their tendency to address spiritual and religious topics, and to employ these things as metaphors. The scope of  her philosophical interests and her musical eclecticism helped to render her work unique and intriguing, and made a pleasant change from the ubiquitous standard navel-gazing of the era.

Her musical legacy may be relatively small in terms of volume of "product" released, but it is far from meagre in its sweep and emotional vibrancy. Apart from the two original studio albums, an album of later demos and other unreleased material ("Dreams Come True...") surfaced in 2005, and a collection of her BBC performances is also out there. Such is the depth and immersive vigour of her work that this canon more than satisfies.

The debut record "Judee Sill" (1971) contains some impressive and likeable songs, and there is an obvious confidence in both her vocal performances and the arrangements, when considering that this is a first attempt. Standout tracks include "Crayon Angels", "The Archetypal Man", "The Lamb Ran Away With The Crown", "Jesus Was A Cross Maker", "Lady-O" (also recorded by The Turtles), "My Man On Love" and "Lopin' Along Thru The Cosmos".

Occasionally hints of the "baroque" pop of The Beach Boys and others come to the fore, but these impulses are more likely attributable to her own varied musical background. Above all, this music is more dynamic and interesting than much of the earnest and stodgy "confessional" fare being produced by "troubadours" at that time.  In approach and ethos I also sense echoes of Laura Nyro's work, namely a self-sufficiency and a distinct and mature artistic vision. If anything, Judee's music is more "compact" and restrained than Laura's, but no less inspiring.

This first release is pleasing to the ear, the vocals are soothing and sometimes ethereal and the arrangements understated.  Strings appear here and there, and some horns are audible on "Enchanted Sky Machines".  By any standards, an assured, credible and enjoyable debut.

Judee Sill spread her wings somewhat on her sophomore offering, "Heart Food" (1973). The selection of songs is more diverse and experimental, and the "folk" element in the music has arguably decreased. Again, a horses-for-courses approach to instrumentation, with violin appearing on the country-tinged opener "There's A Rugged Road", and some pedal steel guitar here and there.

"The Kiss" is one of her best remembered compositions, although I personally prefer the live renditions which she performed at the BBC to this album version. Either way, it is a stirring and absorbing song, addressing weighty philosophical and mystical questions in a most poetic and diverting way.  Not a "pop song" as such, but "The Kiss" does contain some great "hooks".

Other notable songs on "Heart Food" are "Down Where The Valleys Are Low", with its infectious and sprightly melodies, and "Soldier Of The Heart", which possesses a confident and endearing vocal, and which swings noticeably.

"The Phoenix" is another quietly impressive number, its words seemingly examining a restless personal quest for contentment and equilibrium. The penultimate track, "The Donor" is unquestionably the most ambitious track on this record, clocking in at over eight minutes. A mood piece in some ways, and that word "baroque" must rear its head again. To me, it feels ascetic and measured rather than grandiose.

Despite the message being spread through the internet,and through the efforts of fans, my feeling is that Judee Sill has not quite reached the influence of certain other cult singer-songwriters, but it could still happen. Perhaps her music was too esoteric and ambitious to attain mainstream commercial success, but that in no way diminishes its value. She deserves to be recognized as an original and important talent, whose work still sounds fresh, vibrant and distinctive.

Listen to Judee Sill's music.  You'll be glad that you made the effort.

Life's Soundtrack

Many of us, myself included, trace our existence via the music which we were listening to at various stages of our lives. This could either be a song which happened to be in the charts at a particular time, or tracks which for whatever reason have a certain resonance, reminding us of happy (or sad) times, or evoking our state of mind.

 

The first time that I can remember truly relating to songs, and seeing in them some semblance of inspiration or "meaning" was in my mid-to-late teens, when many different pressures and emotions conspire to give rise to a need to "belong", and find spiritual outlet, however imagined and superficial.

 

It makes me cringe now, but the first track which I, and my circle of friends, saw as a personal anthem, was "Livin' On A Prayer" by Bon Jovi. This may have just been escapism or peer pressure, and the blue collar romanticism in the lyrics now makes me nauseous. My social and economic situation bore very little relation to the characters depicted in the song. "I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight" by Cutting Crew fulfilled a similar role, both at the time, and in retrospectively evoking a sense of time and place. This was clearly the naïve optimism of a confused seventeen or eighteen year old mind at work, although in some respects it was healthy that I was latching on to such harmless if shallow subject matter. It was preferable to existing in some vacuum.

From my late teens until my late twenties, my life fell into a torpor, and music served primarily as an agent to fill the void, but acting as a neutralizer, simply cancelling out a negative. I had by this time begun to explore the work of singer-songwriters such as Neil Young and Jackson Browne, but the impact of their lyrics was generally secondary in importance to the melodic invention and subtlety on display. I was looking to the sound to anaesthetize me, not the words or messages to inform me.

Of course, when one's outlook and circumstances alter, music which previously appeared relatively innocuous and distant can suddenly take on a major piquancy and relevance. This began to occur in my case about fifteen years ago. I often think that the more introspective songs of Jackson Browne (Farther On, Sky Blue and Black, Sleep's Dark And Silent Gate, The Pretender, Fountain of Sorrow, These Days) are speaking only to me, and that they could have been written to document the course of my life and my mental state over the past decade-and-a-half. I could say the same about a few of the compositions of Gene Clark. Once the seed is sown, and we are "convinced", it is difficult to dispel such notions, even when evidence to the contrary looms.

Is this just wishful thinking, and intellectual dishonesty, a desperate and misguided attempt to avoid dealing with one's demons (and confronting reality), by taking refuge in somebody else's sentiments and inner thoughts?

I make take a (retrospectively) jaundiced view of the musical preoccupations of my late teens and early adulthood, but in seeking to "intellectualize" and rationalise my latter-day inclinations, I may be subjecting myself once again to delusions, if of a different type this time.

Perhaps the "soundtrack" to our lives should concern itself less with finding "poignancy" and "meaning" in lyrics, and more with the sometimes overlooked  and unnoticed capacity of music (i.e. the sounds themselves) to sooth and uplift us spiritually. This path also entails less anguish and pretence than the other approach....

 

Singer-Songwriters

One of the joys and satisfactions of rock music is being able to follow, and identify with, the thought processes of the artist, and chart their growth (or regression), and the fluctuating course of their personal fortunes and attitudes. This is easier when one is dealing with singer-songwriters.

The "singer-songwriter" genre can arguably trace its roots back to Delta Blues, or even further back to the days of wandering minstrels and troubadours, and the early days of rock n roll saw the emergence of such figures as Buddy Holly and Eddie Cochran. However, if we are thinking in terms of the modern "rock" scene then, like so many things, it began with Bob Dylan.

Not only did Dylan make it viable and credible for people to express themselves creatively entirely through their own compositions and ideas, but he also laid down many of the ground rules, by giving validity to the notion of such views and observations being poured out in a challenging and poetic way.

The mental stimulation in absorbing the work of singer-songwriters is to a large extent in the concentration of the thoughts and interests of one person. This is not really possible in the case of groups and bands, even those whose members write tunes prolifically, because the message is often confused and fragmented, reflecting the diverse personalities and outlooks of the people who make up the ensemble, and the compromises made in the creative process. With a single creative engine, the message can still be occasionally confused and contradictory, but leaves the listener safe in the knowledge that this is the psyche of a single individual, with all its idiosyncrasies and foibles.

Although there have been great singer-songwriters in more recent decades, the "genre" enjoyed a golden age in the period from the late 1960s through to the mid-1970s, on both sides of the Atlantic. Many of the foremost practitioners hailed from the folk movement, and folk's capacity for, and tradition of, storytelling and social conscience stood them in good stead in this new environment. Some of these figures achieved both critical acclaim and commercial success (Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne), while others had to be content with admiration from their peers, long-term influence or royalties from cover versions of their songs (Laura Nyro , Gene Clark, Tom Waits, Nick Drake.).

 

The zenith of the 70s singer-songwriter scene probably occurred around 1974, when several prominent artists released seminal works. Jackson Browne's "Late For The Sky", "No Other" by Gene Clark and Neil Young's "On The Beach" are just a few which instantly spring to mind. All different in their own ways, but each representing a kind of peak. "No Other" and "On The Beach" are arguably untypical of their architect's general output, and partly for this reason stand out all the more.

 

In the mid-1970s the lustre of the "confessional" and "introspective" genre faded. Most of what was there to be said had already been said, and the artists naturally began to branch out and explore fresh territory.  The social climate was also less conducive to what some regarded as self-indulgent navel-gazing.

 

The appeal, though, of the singer-songwriter has never really gone away. The 80s saw the likes of Suzanne Vega and Tracy Chapman achieve both artistic credibility and bounteous record sales, and people will always be receptive to the vulnerable and earnest person wielding a guitar, or sitting at a piano, pouring out angst, anger or regret.

 

Many of my most rewarding musical experiences of recent times have been in discovering the work of the great  singer-songwriters of the past;the likes of Fred Neil, David Ackles and Jackson C Frank. The work of such artists remains piquant and stimulating, and is well worth checking out.

 

Whatever the caprices of musical favour, the singer-songwriter, in whatever form he or she takes, will never disappear.

Protest Songs

The early years of rock & roll were primarily notable for songs about the pleasures of the flesh or youthful rebellion. However, as the Sixties wore on, and the social and inter-generational atmosphere grew more febrile and unstable, the frontiers of rock expanded, and lyrics became more diverse, experimental and profound. The protest song genre was very much part of this overall pushing back of the boundaries. I have lately embarked on an intensely "political" phase, and this subject therefore came to the forefront of my mind.

 

Protest songs take several forms, all of which have their own virtues and hallmarks. The most overtly powerful, but also the most ephemeral, is the song written on the spur of the moment, often in a spontaneous outpouring of rage, indignation or dismay, and in reaction to a traumatic or tragic incident. An example which springs to mind instantly is "Ohio" by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Songs such as this make up in rawness and sincerity what they may lack in long-term universal anthemic potential. Even if some of the precise cultural references may mean less these days, they are formidable period pieces, with a unique appeal.

 

The track which for me stands out as the ultimate protest number is "Fortunate Son" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.  Clearly addressing an emotive and topical theme of 1969, but also espousing many sentiments which have remained common ever since. The clinching factor is the fact that "Fortunate Son" is, in purely musical terms,  a rip-roaring piece of rock & roll. John Fogerty could be singing about washing-up liquid and it would still be a great record.  However, the lyrics elevate it to something else again, the frenetic pace of the arrangement ideally complementing the anger being expressed.

The other "Vietnam era" protest song which still packs a real punch, and stands up well, is "Draft Morning" by The Byrds. An ethereal vibe pervades this one, punctuated by sound effects depicting the horrors of war. A different approach to "Fortunate Son", but still highly effective and memorable.

Creedence Clearwater Revival recorded one or two other excellent protest records. "Bad Moon Rising", to the uninitiated, could be open to several interpretations, but now it seems clear that it was a lament about the political events of the late 1960s in the United States. "Who'll Stop The Rain" is a more wide-ranging, if equally forthright, commentary on the ills and turmoil of those times. John Fogerty's passionate songs had an honesty, directness and clarity which was sometimes lacking in the "social commentary" and posturing of the psychedelic and singer-songwriter crowds.

Jackson Browne, initially renowned for his introspective and personal lyrics, grew more overtly concerned with social and political issues as his career developed. In his case, I always found the satirical approach more convincing than his direct "protest" material. "The Pretender", from 1976, was eerily shrewd in its assessment of where the wind was blowing, and prescient about the careerism and economic rapaciousness which would fully emerge in the decade which followed, even raising concern about "work/life balance".  "Lawyers In Love", released in the early 1980s, is a cynical, if astute and amusing, take on the Cold War and cultural imperialism. If not "protest songs" in the conventional sense, both "The Pretender" and "Lawyers In Love" deliver a thought-provoking and coherent message without sounding either self-righteous or corny.

Then there is the carefully researched campaigning song, bringing an injustice to wider attention, as perfectly exemplified by Bob Dylan's "Hurricane".  The Rolling Stones delivered their own distinct, and sometimes ambiguous, verdict on the upheavals of the late 60s with songs such as "Street Fighting Man" and "Gimme Shelter".

These are just examples from what may loosely be termed the "classic rock" era, and of course other musical genres have been equally prolific in commenting on political matters. The concept of "the protest album" is most popularly encapsulated by Marvin Gaye's magnificent "What's Going On".  Of course, protest and activism is in the very DNA of folk music and folk-rock.

An interesting debate would be whether the protest song is less prevalent and favoured than it used to be, in "mainstream" music at least?  Did the financial crisis of a few years ago produce any great protest songs, or is the music scene now so fragmented that such tracks do not gain widespread recognition?

 

Hold Out - Jackson Browne - album review

Continuing my exploration of the albums of Jackson Browne, we come now to the great man's 1980 release, Hold Out, the only album of his to top the American Billboard charts.

Coming after the "experimental" and idiosyncratic Running On Empty, this record is a more conventional and slick mainstream singer-songwriter rock album, and in some respects it picks up where 1976's The Pretender left off, serving as the far side of the hinge of Browne's career.

When I first listened to Hold Out, my reaction was that it sounded a touch soulless, like much "album rock" of that time. However, I soon realized that my assessment was flawed. It had only seemed relatively soulless, because I had heard it back-to-back with Jackson's classic "organic" sounding music from the 1970s. Closer inspection revealed hidden depths, and it remains to me one of his unfairly overlooked works, although it contains only seven songs!

Although Hold Out is deceptively meritorious in a purely musical sense, there is a case for arguing that lyrically some water-treading is in evidence. If anything, the subject matter is, by and large, less weighty and profound than on his previous LPs. Any social commentary is very mild, and is confined to "Disco Apocalypse" and "Boulevard". That said, the "personal" lyrics on a couple of the compositions are very moving and affecting.

Instrumentally, the accent is very much on keyboards, with little in the way of acoustic guitar work to be had. Thankfully, the subtle and soothing tones of David Lindley's lap steel feature prominently on several numbers. Also, acoustic piano survives, and the layers of keyboards give genuine texture to a few of the tracks, with the assistance Hammond organ. Any synthesizer work is very unobtrusive, and is employed primarily to accentuate melody and atmosphere.

The opening track on the album is "Disco Apocalypse", a dark and atmospheric song suffused with the aforementioned keyboards, in this case organ and electric piano.  The title track follows, with an expressive Browne vocal, and a bland if endearing melody, and the first appearance here of the Lindley alchemy on lap steel.

The production on this album has a glossy feel, which is not unusual for the early eighties, but I would contend that this does not suffocate the emotion, nuance and melody of the set. The separation between instruments is pronounced, and this is exemplified by "That Girl Could Sing".

"Boulevard" is the nearest thing on the album to a catchy, up-tempo commercial song, with an energetic "new wave" blue-collar flavour, the sort of track which would become a staple of American mainstream rock in the years which followed. It is often forgotten how much Jackson Browne pioneered this particular "sub-genre", at least in sonic terms.

Without doubt the most emotionally charged song is "Of Missing Persons", written largely in tribute to Jackson's friend, the late Lowell George of Little Feat.  The song is dominated by the vocal, seized with sincerity and sadness, and the poetic Lindley lap steel work.

"Let's Call It A Loan" then offers some light relief, preparing for the epic closer, "Hold On Hold Out", which almost has a suite-like quality, and the most grandiose arrangement on the whole album. The full range of keyboards is deployed, and the slide guitar again comes to the fore.

Hold Out often gets lost, as it falls between Browne's critically acclaimed early work and his more socially conscious albums of the 1980s.  However, it is worthy of respect, being an entertaining and superbly crafted record.

For Everyman - Jackson Browne - album review

After his acclaimed debut album, expectations must have been high for Jackson Browne's sophomore effort, destined to be entitled "For Everyman".  In the event, whilst containing some of his strongest and most memorable songs, it somehow lacks the uniform excellence of the records which came immediately beforehand and afterwards. Despite my occasional ambivalence about the LP, it is well worthy of examination.

The most immediately conspicuous thing for me about "For Everyman" is that it lacks the cohesion of most other Jackson Browne albums. The exact reasons are not easy to pin down, but the tracks do not fit together very seamlessly, despite the insertion of one or two segues. The presence of a couple of "filler" tracks also adversely affects the flow and continuity.

It almost feels like this record was partially assembled from left-overs and curios. The Browne rendition of "Take It Easy" emerges as quite anemic and perfunctory, as if there was some obligation to record it, and tick a box. "Red Neck Friend" and "Ready Or Not" are California rock by numbers, notwithstanding their amusing, charming or mischievous lyrical content. "The Times You've Come" and "Sing My Songs To Me" are well-crafted and tuneful, if a touch laboured and ponderous.

Thankfully, this is redeemed by the quality of the stronger numbers. It is here also that we seen the first signs of Jackson Browne's socially conscious side, in the title track, and in snippets of lyrics elsewhere on the set. Still, though, "confessional", introspective and personal subjects predominate. The first half (or side 1 on vinyl!)  is loaded with the more substantial songs, although the aforementioned title song rounds the album off in emphatic and powerful style.

There is a large cast list of session players and guest musicians and vocalists, but despite this, the album does not sound particularly disjointed or diffuse melodically or sonically.  There are some very pleasing acoustic guitar lines, with this instrument possibly more to the for than on any other Browne record.  On several tracks, the arrangements are quite heavily layered, with several keyboard and guitar parts intermingling, a departure from much of the debut album, and the succeeding "Late For The Sky".  A significant innovation is the emergence of the wonderful David Lindley as an integral part of the Browne sound.

Lyrically, this album undoubtedly contains some of Jackson's most penetrating and memorable lines, such as the opening sequence to "I Thought I Was A Child", the whole of "These Days", and "For Everyman". These pieces lend credence to Browne's status as a lyricist of insight and acuity.

"These Days" has become one of Jackson's most durable songs, having been covered by several other people. It has a simple but affecting melody which, in tandem with the lyrics, forms a profound impression. This is one of the first Jackson Browne songs to benefit from the guile and sensitivity of the aforementioned David Lindley, on slide guitar here.

"Our Lady of The Well" and "Colors of the Sun" are both slightly redolent of the stripped down haunting landscape of the debut album. Somewhat "pastoral" in nature, they conjure up mental images of rural living, community, hardship and melancholy. As elsewhere on the record, intricate acoustic guitar parts are well to the fore.

The first piano chords, and the ensuing words, perhaps summarize why some of us became so receptive to, and enthused by, Jackson Browne's music in the first place.  Yes, it bears distinct hallmarks of standard California singer-songwriter fare, but it also possesses that intangible Browne quality of striking an intimate chord with the listener.

The story of the origins of the closing title track is quite well documented.  It was apparently written in response to David Crosby's "Wooden Ships", and ironically features the very same Mr Crosby on harmony vocals. This is the most elaborate arrangement on the record, with strata of keyboards and guitars almost threatening to drown out the vocals and lyrics. The song explores similar, if not identical, territory, to the later "Before The Deluge";apocalyptic, but seeking to salvage some vestige of humanity and brotherhood. One can view it as part idealism, and part a reaction to the fears and threats of the age in which it was composed (Cold War, emergent ecological concerns).

As an overall package, "For Everyman" is not Jackson Browne's most consistent or coherent album, but it does show an artist in the course of development, on the road to the peerless "Late for The Sky".  The better tracks stand favourable comparison with anything else in his repertoire.

Running On Empty - Jackson Browne - album review

By 1977/78, Jackson Browne had established a well-deserved reputation as one of the standard-bearers for the singer-songwriter movement. His first three albums had virtually formed the template for this sub-genre. His 1976 release The Pretender had introduced additional musical diversity, as well as a broadening of the lyrical subject matter. The next record, Running On Empty,also embraced some of these trends, whilst maintaining many of the elements which characterized Browne's "golden" period, but against a fresh backdrop.

The album features tracks recorded in a number of environments, from the concert stage, to the soundcheck, to the hotel room, to the tour bus. There are even cover versions and songs co-written by Jackson with other people, another departure from the usual Browne formula.

It can almost be said that Running On Empty is a concept album, as quite a few of the numbers deal with the pressures, strains and delights of life for the touring musician. This is ideally matched by the rawness and spontaneity, which in turn is partly a reflection of the circumstances under which the recordings were made. The tenor of the songs also evokes the atmosphere of the times, one which is captured by the vague air of resignation and apathy.  The shallow hedonism of the rock lifestyle as a metaphor for the disillusionment of a generation?  None of the ten songs here contains much in the way of overt "social commentary", with the exception of the title track, but in its own way this collection eloquently conveys emptiness,disaffection and even retreat.

It has been claimed that some of the songs here are lightweight, trite even, and it is difficult to dispute that taken in isolation they lack the incisiveness and gravitas which people had become used to. However, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and the balance largely achieves the effect which the artist was seemingly aiming at.

Some backbone is provided by two tracks in particular, "The Road" and "Shaky Town". The former has a haunting melody, accentuated by David Lindley's violin. The lyrics depict a vivid flavour of the road life, and are delivered with the requisite amount of laconic and careworn cynicism. "Shaky Town" possesses a similarly bluesy, ponderous flavour which aptly complements the words.

The instrumentation and sound on Running On Empty are somewhat unlike that on the previous records, but primarily it is pleasingly sparse, economical and intimate. I hesitate to use the word "craftsmanship", but this is not over-laboured, being counter-balanced by the immediacy of much of the material.  For Browne devotees there are the comforting tones of David Lindley's lap-steel playing, both exuberant and delicate.

It would probably be inaccurate to say that this album was a major turning point in Jackson Browne's career;that would not occur until the early 1980s. However, it is one of the most intriguing projects which he has undertaken. Although we have hinted that the songs may not be as instantly memorable and profound as some of his introspective classics, the record has hidden depths and is relatively "undemanding" emotionally. An enjoyable and novel excursion....

Jackson Browne/Saturate Before Using - Jackson Browne - album review

Some artists' debut albums are tentative, uncertain or patchy efforts, betraying only partially developed talents, albeit with strong hints of promise for the future.  Others display a genuine self-confidence, intelligence and sense of purpose.  One album which on balance belongs in the latter category is Jackson Browne's self-titled 1972 debut effort, unofficially dubbed "Saturate Before Using" on account of its sleeve design.

For me, there are a few reasons why this record is so cohesive, unified and impressive.  Although this was his first album as such, Browne had undergone a solid and varied grounding on the music scene, when one considers his relatively tender years.  His songs had already received plaudits, and even been covered, by some luminaries, and he had forged links and friendships with several of these figures.

In some ways, the topics explored in the songs on this album are as diverse as almost any subsequent Browne record.  The LP tends to be labelled in some quarters as exemplifying post-hippie angst, but I find this label to be overly simplistic.

Although lyrically "Saturate Before Using" is more varied than it is often given credit for, sonically and atmosphere-wise some common threads run through much of it. The words "haunting" and "mellow" may spring to mind for many, but in all honesty neither really suffices in describing the feeling I get when I listen to these songs.  They conjure up a kind of eeriness, like staring over a barren landscape as the sun sets and the temperature drops...

For all the enigmatic nature of much of the album, it also contains some of Browne's best-known numbers, including "Jamaica Say You Will", "Doctor My Eyes" and "Rock Me On The Water", all of which have been covered by other artists.  "Jamaica Say You Will" in particular is an absolute gem, a song of utter simplicity and charm, but combining this with real emotional pull.

Jackson Browne's singing still has an innocent and even tentative quality about it on this record, and it is true that his vocal confidence and phrasing improved as the 1970s progressed.  However, here the restrained delivery is in keeping with the tone of the compositions, the arrangements and the overall mood.

Jackson's qualities as a "storyteller" are very much in evidence here too, on tracks such as "Something Fine", "From Silver Lake" and "Looking Into You".  Other compositions do peer into darker corners of the human condition, giving us a real taste of the evocative and intelligent lyrics which were to become a hallmark of his career.

The instrumental backing is, for the most part, markedly less ostentatious than on the artist's other works, and it is worth noting that David Lindley had not yet entered the picture at this point.  The textures offered by   his contributions only began to take effect on 1973's For Everyman.  For all this, there is still some very pleasing piano and acoustic guitar work throughout.

On this album, Jackson Browne did not just announce himself as a promising talent for the future; he was unveiled as an important and eloquent voice in rock music.  In some respects it can be justifiably described as very much "of its time", but it still holds up very credibly today.

The Pretender - Jackson Browne - album review

On his first three albums, Jackson Browne established himself as one of the foremost singer-songwriters of his time, combining insightful and mature lyrics with subtle and affecting melodies.  This reached its zenith on his 1974 work Late For The Sky, which I wrote about some time ago on here:

Late For The Sky

His 1976 album The Pretender perhaps acted as a kind of hinge in his career, between the time when most of the lyrical concerns were personal or introspective, and an age when the subject matter became more diverse and socially concerned.

The Pretender has a gloss and sheen which is largely absent from the first three releases.  Indeed, I can imagine that in 1976 this might have come as quite a shock to some fans.  The organic, acoustic feel has diminished, with one or two exceptions.  The production sounds more "modern", although whether that is a good thing is open to debate!   This may have been largely unavoidable, because of the recording technology and personnel being employed, I don't know.  It could have been intentional, as representing a break with the past...

A few of the songs have arrangements which lack the depth and subtlety of earlier LPs, and this can leave them sounding a little clinical and soulless.  The piano parts, though, sound very sprightly and luminous, though some people may prefer the more natural sonic charm of the past.  This, and also the distinctively brittle and sparingly used guitar are possibly the hallmarks of the set, along with Jackson's more confident vocals.

It has often been remarked how more assured and technically "adept" the lead vocals are on The Pretender.  In truth, this can be viewed as a double-edged sword.  Certainly, the vocals are fuller, and there is more power there, but at times I find myself longing for the more fragile and pleading style of years passed.

Perhaps the most telling thing is the less prominent role of David Lindley in the arrangements. 

Although people hoping for, or expecting, more of the Jackson Browne of 1972-74 may have been disappointed, it was probably time for him to move on anyway.  By 1976, the singer-songwriter movement, such as it was, had begun to fragment.  Some observers have commented on the danger of the material becoming samey and stale.

The first track, "The Fuse", sets the tone, and gives us some clues.  The song has a brooding flavour which permeates much of the album.  The lyrics are open to interpretation, but there are hints that the writer is looking forward, and more outward than inward.

"Your Bright Baby Blues" almost feels like a relic from old.  This song appears to have been written a few years before, as I have seen footage of Jackson performing it with the Eagles circa 1974.  The sound is a throwback to For Everyman, with rich instrumentation, including piano, organ and acoustic guitar.  The slide guitar and harmony of Lowell George supply real character and bite, although in fairness there is plenty to hold the interest anyway, with JB in controlled and confident form on lead vocal.  All these ingredients lift the song well above the ordinary.

The greater eclecticism of The Pretender is encapsulated by "Linda Paloma", with its overt Mexican/Latin stylings.  A pleasant enough melody, with relatively undemanding lyrics, and a lightweight counterpoint to the more profound material.

By direct contrast, "Here Come Those Tears Again" is one of the centerpieces of this album. An intensely personal song, it is stylistically difficult to pin down, but its emotional impact is undeniable, with another fine vocal, Jackson stretching himself.

I know that "The Only Child" has been lauded in some quarters, but I have tended to regard it as a little bit weak and directionless, even though it contains some nice touches, notably David Lindley's violin. Overall, though this song to me smacks a little of going through the motions, almost "Jackson Browne by numbers".

"Daddy's Tune" has more substance to it, with a welcome change of atmosphere part-way through, which adds vibrancy and energy. The introduction of a brass section was certainly a novelty for a Jackson Browne record, at least in those days!  This one is lyrically quite intriguing, too.

Another of the landmark tunes on The Pretender is "Sleeps Dark and Silent Gate".  In its very early stages, this song looks like flirting dangerously with MOR, but the incisiveness and resonance of the lyrics elevate it comfortably above all that.  In addition, it does not outstay its welcome, saying what it needs and wants to stay, before bowing out.  There are some memorable and penetrating lines here, with which many of us will identify closely.  Familiar Browne themes still very much present, here at least.

The title track, of course, is one of the artist's most famous compositions, although it is questionable whether those who hear it on the radio pay more than passing attention to its messages and observations.  Lamenting the frustrated ideals of one era, and swinging a lamp on some new social trends, and those lurking on the horizon. Churlish I know, but for my own tastes the guitars, backing vocals and keyboards on the closing song are excessively "pretty", but they are indisputably also "radio-friendly". 

I find it difficult to judge this album.  The stronger songs are potent, cerebral and memorable, but there are some patchy moments too. Its diversity and its restlessness inevitably mean that for some it may lack the cohesiveness of other Browne albums. However, looking at things objectively, it is a fine album, and an intriguing window on the artist's life and career, the music scene, and indeed the wider world, circa 1976.

After The Gold Rush - Neil Young - album review

After recently writing blog posts about two of Neil Young's classic 1970s albums, I thought that I would take a look at the Canadian singer-songwriter's first effort of the decade, After The Gold Rush.

Commonly cited as Young's quintessential "singer-songwriter" LP, it is in fact quite a diverse and varied piece of work, containing many of the elements which have made his career so enduringly fascinating and unpredictable.

The album opens with "Tell Me Why", which contains ingredients from both Young's troubadour days, and also the style of Crosby Stills and Nash, with whom he had recently been collaborating when this was recorded. The vocal harmonies here are fragile and airy, and somewhat unique in flavour to After The Gold Rush.

The title track follows, and is one of those songs which was very much in keeping with the tenor of its time, hinting at apocalypse and subsequent rebirth.  Similar themes to Jackson Browne's "For Everyman" and "Wooden Ships" by CSN.

It is fair to say that many of the stronger compositions on this album are packed in at the start, and this is maintained with "Only Love Can Break Your Heart", which has become almost a standard because of many renditions by other artists. This original drifts by without drawing that much attention to itself, and is quite difficult to categorise and define, so I won't bother trying!

The track which aroused most discussion and debate was "Southern Man".  Apart from its socio-political message, this is a very powerful track musically, with perhaps the last major outing on record for some time of Young's idiosyncratic, brittle and meandering guitar style.  The piano-playing on this song is also sometimes forgotten, adding depth and helping to drive the melody along.

It has to be said that the remaining tracks are a mixed bag, two of them being brief and rather whimsical items, "Till The Morning Comes" and "Cripple Creek Ferry".  These, together with the perfunctory and incongruous cover of Don Gibson's "Oh Lonesome" Me, tend to belie the reputation of After The Gold Rush as a classic of its kind.  Whether Young was short on genuinely strong material around this time, it can only be speculated. Of course, some of his superior creations were being diverted to CSNY, and other projects.

These weaker links are balanced out by some memorable and beautiful moments towards the close of the album. "Birds" and "I Believe in You" are far from the most popularly revered songs here, but they both have charm and finesse, and have not suffered from the over-familiarity associated with the earlier "marquee" numbers. Again, piano is used to considerable effect on both of these songs.

After The Gold Rush is something of a hinge in this phase of Neil Young's journey, having a character of its own, but still showing the legacy of his early albums, and paving the way for the more "commercial" period, albeit relatively brief, on which he was about to embark.

Whilst there are some strong songs, and an appealing "organic" and sparse feel throughout, it has possibly been slightly over-rated. This was one of the first Neil Young albums which I listened to, and I judged it before exploring other areas of his catalogue. Once I had been exposed to Tonight's The Night and On The Beach, After the Gold Rush began to sound much tamer and anodyne; almost, but not quite, a case of treading water.

So even if the passage of time, and repeated exposure, dulls its impact, and makes it appear ever so slightly sterile, After The Gold Rush is still a great listen.

Late For The Sky - Jackson Browne - album review

On internet forums, and in the media generally, it is commonplace for people to be asked to name their "top 10 albums" or their favourite album of all-time.  The centre of gravity of my musical tastes constantly shifts, but for around a decade and a half, pride of place at the top of my list has been occupied by Jackson Browne's 1974 work, "Late For The Sky".

I had been aware of Jackson's music, but mostly through his more glitzy and commercial singles of the 1980s.  It was only when I became a fan of the Eagles that I discovered his classic 1970s material.  The Eagles and Jackson were label-mates, friends and songwriting collaborators in the early Seventies, and I was persuaded therefore to look into the Browne canon.

As soon as I heard "Late For The Sky", it struck a chord, both melodically and lyrically. I actually came to it after hearing three or four of Jackson's other LPs of that era, and it stood out from those efforts in several ways.  The instrumentation and arrangements were more spartan and stripped-down than the previous "For Everyman", with its layered acoustic guitars and keyboards.  On "Late For The Sky", one is aware of greater separation, through which the inspired lyrics are able to project themselves.

In addition to the technical musical differences, the themes and concerns examined in the songs seem more focussed than before, and Jackson is generally less oblique and cryptic in telling his stories. This extra focus adds to the emotional impact of the songs, as they zero in on the hearts and minds of the listener with more clarity, and the album feels more like an overall "experience", certainly compared to its two predecessors.

In its entirety, "Late For The Sky" is the most compelling showcase for Jackson Browne's special capacity to both tug at the heart strings, and stimulate the grey matter.  Some of the subjects explored may have had peculiarly contemporary resonance in 1974, but they have proved to be timeless, and indeed to me the songs are more relevant than ever.

Considering that we are dealing with a classic album, it seems churlish to refer to "filler", but two of the songs, "The Road and The Sky" and "Walking Slow", have to be described as such. I suspect that they were included to offset and ameliorate the effect of the meatier and more profound fare around them. For the purposes of this review, I will therefore disregard these two tracks, and concentrate on the six numbers which form its solid and enduring core.

The opener, and title track, introduces us to the type of backing we can expect throughout the album, Browne's piano and David Lindley's evocative and wonderfully brittle guitar are supported by some subtle, and at times almost inaudible, organ work. The lyrics of this song are the bleakest of all, seemingly concerned with the break-up of a relationship.  Film fans may recall the song being employed to telling effect in the movie "Taxi Driver"

On this work, Jackson seems to have enlisted the help of various people to help out with vocal harmonies, and they are a feature of this album, helping to create quite a gritty effect, consistent with the overall tone.  Jackson himself sings more passionately on these tracks than at virtually any stage of his career.  Whether this was intentional, or just a function of his development as a vocalist, is difficult to say.  The pleading phrasing ideally complements the words.

Track two, "Fountain of Sorrow", is the longest on the LP, and also the most lyrically impenetrable.  To be truthful, I have never fully made my mind up what the metaphors here are alluding to, but this is a beautiful and intelligent piece of work. The instrumentation is even more sparse than on the title track, and Browne's voice captured with greater clarity, supported by some more substantial backing vocals.

Next we come to "Farther On", a song which had a major effect on me almost from the first time I heard it.  Rarely can an instrumental part have been as apposite as David Lindley's weeping lap steel is on this. The song muses, reflects and laments upon the passing of time, and frustrated ambitions and hopes, but also celebrates humanity and its compassion and eternal optimism.

The thoughts and sentiments being expressed here will seem relevant and powerful for people, most probably those in their thirties and forties.  What still seems remarkable, not just about this song but most of those on "Late for The Sky", is that Jackson Browne was writing cohesive statements like this in his mid-twenties.

"The Late Show" is marginally less demanding than the numbers preceding it, but has some very thoughtful lines, accentuated by an appealing, wandering melody. Vaguely  "country rock" in nature, but with more complex lyrics than would be expected from that genre, it touches on many of the themes central to the album.

A song addressing the subject of death, "For A Dancer", stops well short of descending into the maudlin, and is a deceptively simple but incisive piece, curiously hopeful in areas. David Lindley's violin is used effectively but sparingly.

"Before The Deluge" is a song which tackles apocalyptic and utopian anxieties, continuing on from "For Everyman", but it also expands its reach into environmental issues, which were to become a recurring feature of the songwriter's career. Some may consider the lyrics dated, naive and even quite mawkish, but I see them as courageously idealistic.  Lindley's violin is more integral to the melody, and there are some delicate but unobtrusive organ flourishes.

It seems appropriate that this song, with its concentration on social concerns, finishes the album, which itself closed a phase in Jackson Browne's career, the "singer-songwriter" period. From now on, "non-confessional" topics would gradually assume greater importance.

In itself, "Late For The Sky" probably represents some kind of high watermark in the California singer-songwriter "movement".  It may not have been Jackson Browne's best-selling album, but its emotional pull and understated quality shine like a beacon when assessing his discography. 

At every opportunity, I try to encourage people to listen to this album, stressing what a thought-provoking and rewarding listen it remains.....

Nick Drake

I spent some time with my older brother over Christmas, and the discussion got around to how our respective musical tastes began to diverge as our teenaged years progressed, and we drifted into adulthood. I chuckled when I reflected how I would deride my brother's preferences, but also admitted that I had eventually grown to like and respect much of the music to which he had listened, albeit over two decades later!

One of the artists falling into the above category was Nick Drake.  I distinctly recall my brother coming home, clutching those vinyl albums. I did not pay any great attention to the music, and rather arrogantly dismissed it as part of an introspective phase on my brother's part, or an attempt to appear "hip" with his friends. There is a temptation at that age to question the motives of siblings, rejecting any notion that something may actually interest them for purely intrinsic or aesthetic reasons.

Well, two decades passed, and I did finally "find" Nick Drake, via a more circuitous route than my brother had taken.  In my twenties and thirties I listened to lots of folk-rock and country-rock, and this led me on to singer-songwriters (Jackson Browne, Neil Young, Gene Clark), and then on to the British exponents of that genre, prominent among them being Drake.

On revisiting the three original studio albums, one thing which struck me is the "pastoral" feel, and also the ease with which one can be carried along by the deceptively complex melodies, and having to re-trace one's steps in order to fully take in the lyrics.  The foremost emotion which came to me, though, was "why haven't I been listening to this stuff for the past twenty-odd years?"

The album which appeals to me most overall is Five Leaves Left, with its relatively sparse but subtle arrangements, and varied lyrical themes. Acoustic guitar forms the bedrock of most of the songs here, but other instrumentation is tastefully added to provide texture and depth.  The nuances and charm of the songs and melodies are gradually revealed with repeated listening.  There is also an almost otherworldly, ethereal feel to some of the tracks, particularly "River Man","Day Is Done" and "Thoughts of Mary Jane".

Lyrically, Five Leaves Left comes across as a mixture of the observational and the introspective, and the listener feels like he or she is being transported to a particular place and time, and also a distinct stage in the songwriter's life. While some of the compositions on this album may initially come across as quite bleak, closer scrutiny uncovers some joy, wonder, awe and optimism.

The Drake album which I suspect divides opinion most clearly, and is also the most troublesome to analyse, is 1970's Bryter Layter.  More experimental and inpenetrable than the debut, with a discernible jazz-like feel in places, the songs alternate between the dreamy and the melancholy. Oddly, there are a couple of instrumental tracks.  I know that the arrangements on this album can have a polarizing effect, but I find it fascinating to hear these lyrics shrouded in such an unusual, even incongruous, sonic mist.

Pink Moon, the final studio album, is possibly the least melodically diverse of the three, and features none of the augmentation by strings and woodwind instruments.  This absence of such embellishments can make the album sound bleak, but also intimate. Drake's distinctive guitar work is projected more keenly, and the sense of intimacy is enhanced by the gritty sound of it, as well as the vocals.  Pink Moon has a much more seamless and spontaneous vibe to it than the other material, reflecting the manner and circumstances in which it was recorded.  None of the songs particularly stand out - the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

So, there we have it, a small but impressive and varied body of work.  Stylistically, Five Leaves Left stands betwixt the other two LPs, but I sense that there was no calculated career path.  The individual albums simply reflect the time and place being inhabited by Nick Drake when they were written and recorded. This is often the case with "singer songwriters".

For those who admire sensitive and literate music, Nick Drake's work is a must.  I just hope that other people don't, like me, take twenty years or more to fully embrace it!