Saturday, March 27, 2010

The troubadour's odds and sods album



Thanks for the votes from last time, people....This image is a bit smaller than the last one, partly for economical reasons. But it's not at all a good cover, and like Odessey and Oracle, it is not a good representation of what you'll find inside.

Mellow Yellow. Four stars.

Donovan Leitch really is in some ways the epitome of the sixties hippie ideal. By combining light folk leanings with trippy pop tunes and heavy brushes of psychedelia he manages to completely sum up one whole aspect of the counterculture of the time. He's also light, whimsical, twee. Naturally a bit dated.

Yet these are not bad things. They add to the music's charm, certainly. And Donovan has a lovely Scottish lilt to his voice and is a capable songwriter.

Prior to listening the only song I was familiar with on this 1967 album was the title track, which as it turns out was not at all representative of sound or quality. Mellow Yellow sports a punchy brass band and a lyric that is complete nonsense. There's a school of thought that believe Paul McCartney is doing backup vocals but (unless he's the one whooping it up in the background) I think that's a hoax. I don't really like this song, to be frank.

But that's no problem, because with Writer in the Sun quality goes way up. A gentle, swaying song, featuring a pastoral flute or two. It was written several years earlier when Donovan had believed his career to be over. The resignation and sorrow come across beautifully and the lyrics are far beyond the previous offering.

Sand and Foam has a dark, elegant guitar and the lyrics are so highly poetic as to be nearly incomprehensible the first time. This gives the whole thing a mysterious vibe and it's another highlight.

The Observation is very short, more memorable for the jazzy backup band than either melody or song. But it still gives proof of what an odd lyricist Donovan really is, as he uses the simplist rhymes imaginable (hustling and bustling, mellow yellow, trip out skip out flip out, etc) and can turn around and deliver something really accomplished and poetic - sometimes in the same song.

Bleak City Woman is another light moment. Innocuous and not at all memorable, but there you have it.

House of Jansch is the opposite. Instantly memorable with a very interesting lyric. Why? Because while nothing about it indicates it's a happy song, there's nothing especially sad about it either. Two minute pop songs are usually more overt than that. The title has nothing to do with the song contents, and seems to be meant as a tribute to one Bert Jansch, another Scot, one who founded the band Pentangle.

The real tour de force comes with Young Girl Blues. The voice is way too loud in the mix, and the fadeout is a bit too quick, but other than that! It gets your attention right away, more so with the pauses after every dour verse. "Blues" in a title is usually misleading, but this track is actually quite harrowing and dismal.

With Museum it returns to typical Donovan. A hip, swinging number to enjoy.

Hampstead Incident. Now listen to that guitar. Doesn't that sound a lot like the acoustic passage opening Babe I'm Gonna Leave You? Otherwise it's another dark track, this time featuring strings and an evocative lyric. I really like Donovan's darker work.

But it ends with Sunny South Kensington, a name-dropping, fast paced song. Donovan ditches his Scottish croon for a rather harsher voice, the sort used on his famous Sunshine Superman song. Good music anyway.

Oh, keep in mind, not one of these songs rocks, not even slightly. That really wasn't his forte. Some of them bounce a bit, is all.

Extra facts: Mellow Yellow is in fact not a proper recording at all, at least not from one complete session. It combines leftovers from the Sunshine Superman album, a single or two, and other odds and ends. This may explain the continuously shifting lineup of incidental instruments, or that may just be part of Donovan's style.

However, it does explain the lack of information about the session players. I've heard that it's Danny Thompson on double bass, and that John Paul Jones did arrangements. Based on the McCartney rumour, I'll take such info with a grain of salt.

Otherwise, all I have to say is that this is a nice little record. Fun and moody by degrees, and a good candidate for my list of afternoon tea comfort CDs.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Now in technicolour




Okay, this is an experiment, to see if I can jazz up my Blog by adding pictures and fancy elements...

Odessey and Oracle. Five stars.

Most people are unfamiliar with the Zombies, so here's a bit of background for their only proper album. Released in 1968, after the Zombies had been together for years, releasing single after single that went nowhere. They were never popular in England, though they did get two number one hits across the pond in America (one of which is included here).

In '68, they were ready and willing to call it quits. They were on a new label (CBS), had booked time in Abbey Road, produced themselves and broke up with minimum rancor upon completion.

Ironically, the track Time of the Season became a huge hit when released in America and there were calls for the band to reform. They refused, perhaps not wishing to exploit their success, and as Rod Argent said "it would have been a real downer if we had regrouped and then failed."

Argent was one of the two songwriters of the group, the other being Chris White. Colin Blunstone took distinctive lead vocals for most tracks. Hugh Grundy was the drummer, Paul Atkinson the guitarist, White the bass player. Argent played everything else.

I've never done the whole music history lesson before, but I thought I'd give it a try. Vote on whether you like these changes, please. Now, what about the music?

It's Mellotron heavy, very British pop songs, impeccably crafted with superb harmonies and backups. And surprisingly strong songwriting.

The opener, Care of Cell 44, is a bright, jubilant number about how happy out narrator is that his girlfriend is soon to be released from prison. Just listen to those backing vocals. They put the Beach Boys to shame, almost.

A Rose for Emily is a simple, melancholy piano tune. Without any experimentation or psychedelia, making the story a rather odd theme for a pop song, added to by the matter-of-fact voice.

Maybe After He's Gone is in more familiar territory, a poetic broken-heart song with a surpringly optomistic chorus.

Beechwood Park is a beautiful, elegant ode with some surprising quirks and a gentle melody.

Brief Candles also manages to carry a good melody and a thought-provoking lyric. It's quite beautiful.

Hung up on a Dream turns to describing hippies. It sweeps along almost thematically and is highly poetic. Most of these tracks are, yet none of them come across as pretentious.

Changes (how many songs are called that, anyhow?) juxtaposes a harmonised chorus backed by spare drumming with a certain music hall set of verses that have an infectious melody. It feels a little half-baked, but it makes for a great curiousity.

Everything perks up with I Want Her She Wants Me. It's a jaunty song, featuring gentle verses that clash with a slightly grating harmonised chorus. The rest of the the harmonies are beautiful, of course.

This Will be Our Year is also cheerful, or as cheerful as Colin Blunstone can sound with his voice. It's a bit hammy, like a showtune, but the overall quality is very pleasing.

Which makes Butcher's Tale (Western Front 1914) all the more shocking. It's a stark view of war, sung by Chris White in a raw voice free of harmonic backups. There's spooky tape loops and organ instead. A sore thumb on the record but a damn good one.

Everything gets sunny on Friends of Mine, a sweet little song about having one's faith in life reaffirmed by seeing friends in love. The chorus listing off half a dozen couples is so charmingly twee that I smile everytime. Even back then, people avoided such bubblegum tendencies in the hopes of being taken seriously...

Time of the Season is the icing on the cake, a soulful, sultry gem. It is immaculate. There isn't a a flaw in the song. The Zombies knew what they were doing in the studio, and again, just listen to the backup voices. It's perfect and deservedly a monster hit.

Okay, it's art/baroque pop with a British slant, and naturally a bit light. But if you like The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society or Deram era Bowie, there is a good chance you'll enjoy this. I know I do.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

One more from the well of darkness...

Mask. Four Stars.

With their second album, goth rockers Bauhaus picked up a bit of much-needed finesse, without losing much in the way of energy. Musically, little has altered from In the Flat Field. It's still punkish thrashing with a creepy edge. And Peter Murphy still goes off the deep end every chance he gets.

Yet there is a higher quality to the songs themselves. They have a clearer structure, making them more accessible overall.

Hair of the Dog doesn't make any of the small changes immediately noticable. It goes for chaos and the contrast between the dark backbeat and the strange guitar is quite interesting.

Passion of Lovers is a Bauhaus classic. It's very strong, with a sordid lyric mangled by Peter's odd phrasing, plenty of real atmosphere in the music, more weird guitar and a memorable chorus. The backup vocals are a nice touch.

Of Lillies and Remains is a strange little piece. Bouncy, spacey filler. It never really becomes music, as the lyrics are spoken, not sung. It's a bizarre "tune," and though it starts deadpan, Peter does his usual job on the later verses. I'm at a loss about it. Is it supposed to be funny?

Dancing sounds like an extra from their debut, a leftover. It's messy, the lyric is useless and Peter does a lot of yelling...

Hollow Hills is what I truly expected Bauhaus to be like - before I heard any of them. Perhaps the reason for my disappointment. It's a crawling dirge where all the band sound like they're far away. Good lyric, and my favorite track from Mask.

Kick in the Eye 2 (where is 1?) is positively danceable. It's a fun track, with dramatic (not histrionic) vocals from Peter. I can't say more than that.

In Fear of Fear is a light, slightly obnoxious little number. It's a decent followup to Kick. I do like the way Peter juxtaposes his voice by singing twice in higher and lower register.

Muscle in Plastic contains their second reference to Nyjinsky (a ballet dancer who was diagnosed with schizophrenia). Dancing also references him. It's a manic song, without any overdubbing on Peter's voice.

The Man with the X-Ray Eyes is more typical of the CD. Creepy yet incomprehensible lyric and a pretty good climax where the typical wailing corresponds with peppy backups.

Mask also showcases the singer gaining a degree of subtlety that's nice to hear. This is the end of the original release and is quite strong.

Bonuses again included. In Fear of Dub is basically an instrumental edition of In Fear of Fear. Why?

Ear Wax, which seems to have been named that just because, is entirely unmemorable, but atmospheric.

Harry,also named so for no reason, is even stranger. It feels like a British Invasion pop song. Likable, but undeniably odd. It proves how eclectic Bauhaus really was.

The painfully titled 1. David Jay 2. Peter Murphy 3. Kevin Haskins 4. Daniel Ash is actually very good. It opens as a piano driven piece with one of the other guys singing about a law suit or something. Dry run for Love and Rockets. Then it grooves up and Peter takes over with a totally worthless but very funny lyric about fish and potatoes. It's ludicrous to be sure. Then it slows down and another segment (cautionary and not so memorable) finishes the "song." The whole thing is so bizarre it's a standout.

Satori holds promise to start, and features choppy singing in another language. It fades out and then an instrumental percussion fest fades back in. This lasts a while and desists. End of bonus tracks.

Overall, though I like Mask better than In the Flat Field and would listen to more Bauhaus if I had it, I can't say I like them very much. I'm not a fan, as they seem to be the classic example of the mixed bag. They're influential, they popularised Goth Rock alongside Siouxsie and the Banshees, but I prefer their later incarnations, once Murphy had learned how to sing. :)