Monday, October 11, 2010

15th CD...



The Times They Are A-Changin. Four stars.

Okay, I am scared stiff. This is bearding the lion, phase 1. What could possibly be worse than describing this?

Answer: Highway 61 Revisited. So I should count my blessings.

Now Dylan's a bit of a cynic and pessimist on all his records, but I think this one takes the cake for surpreme downer. Almost every song is either a bitter ballad or written in protest of some form of injustice. Trust me, this is not the place for the uninitiated to start. His other records from around this time have far more humour and musical diversity, never mind when he went electric.

And for those who want to know, this album came out in early 1964.

Every line of the title track is solid gold. It is the bar-none classic from the record. Early Dylan consisted of him, his guitar and bursts of harmonica, and the sound of this track is the blueprint for all the others herein. Musically primitive, but the song itself hasn't dated an inch. Great statement.

Ballad of Hollis Brown is certainly memorable. Tense guitar lick, and an excruciatingly slow building murder ballad. After introducing Hollis and his starving family, the rest of the story changes to the viewpoint of "you." This stroke of genius forces empathy, as you listen in to every awful detail.

With God On Our Side is a still more obvious protest song. This one is rather stuck in its era, but it still makes some valid points. The nice thing about his protests: they don't offer any reform plans, he just says what he thinks and leaves the audience to make up their own minds. It's the reason this stuff still holds up after decades of changing ideals. Don't ask me about the melody though; it clunks at every note.

One Too Many Mornings is the shortest track (God was the longest) and the most beautiful, wistful and sad. It's an evocative vignette, not a statement of anything.

North Country Blues is the bitterest of the ballads. It's about the iron ore mining towns, the casualties they create when operating, and the ruin when they shut down. "They say it's much cheaper down in South American towns/Where the miners work almost for nothing."

Only a Pawn in Their Game. More protest, obviously. Better than God.

Boots of Spanish Leather is structured as leave-taking between two lovers. It's the lady leaving on a boat, though until the last verses you can't tell. It ends ambiguously, yet unhappily, and the entire song is hauntingly rendered.

When the Ship Comes In is positively allegorical, like the second coming of Christ. It is the only upbeat tune, and quite a welcome addition too. Great change, full of fantastical imagery that doesn't quite reach biblical in nature until the end.

The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll is an extraordinary ballad. Lovely melody, however simple it is. The story is of a 51 year old servant "killed for no reason" and it is surprisingly moving. The story catches you up just like Hollis Brown's did, and it's impossible not to feel insult and indignation at the absolute misplacement of justice depicted.

Restless Farewell is a fitting end. The narrator is moving on, and leaving a sprawling epitaph behind. Old-fashioned, poignant and a fine finish all around.

...Okay, how'd I do?

Monday, October 4, 2010

14th CD



After the Gold Rush. Four and a half stars.

In 1970, after his collaboration with Crosby, Stills & Nash (resulting in the extremely successful Deja Vu, which I still haven't heard), Neil Young went back to his solo career with another successful record. Keeping his backing band Crazy Horse, he also got Jack Nitzsche from the first album for piano and Greg Reeves (bass player for Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young) on board. Oh, and Stills gets to do backing vocals.

So it sounds a lot like the hard rock/country and folk/country of previous efforts, with the difference of Bill Peterson (whoever that is) playing flugelhorns.

Tell Me Why. Neil starts singing almost immediately on a lovely acoustic number with harmonizing. It's everything I like about his music in one song.

After the Gold Rush is a piano ballad. The lyric makes no sense (that's probably because it's based on a screenplay for a film of the same name. The film never materialized, by the way.) The melody is nice; the horns get their first airing on the bridge. For some reason, I really haven't warmed to it.

Only Love Can Break Your Heart also leaves me cold. It's really quite fragmented, like he had something he meant to say, but couldn't find the words to say it. There's not much to it, but it got to # 33, so what do I know?

Southern Man makes up for these weaknesses. It starts seemingly right in the middle of an epic rock song. Most of it is taken up by guitar soloing, but the piano steals the show for me (that's an unknown Nils Lofgren, by the way). Anyone who played on this song can walk tall for the rest of their life, that's how good it is. Great lyric too; a stark, sweeping glance at the South's slave legacy.

Then, Side 1 finishes with Till the Morning Comes, an extra lavished with horns and harmonies that turn Neil Young into a barbershop quartet. It's treated like a real song, when in fact it is two lines and an infectiously good-natured piano riff. At one minute, its nearest relatives may be found on the Beatles' White Album.

Oh Lonesome Me is a cover of country artist Don Gibson. Harmonica! Pure country, of course. Neil's delivery is as sincere as it gets, which is good, as the lyric is a bit old-fashioned. It's a dirge, but rather nice.

Don't Let It Bring You Down is packed with vivid imagery, centered on the city (which is a bit of a scenic shift) and one of the most gripping songs herein.

Birds is a mercifully short piano ballad. It's pure heart-on-your-sleeve material. Just listen to him sing the line "It's over..." It is absolutely beautiful and sublime and chokes me up.

When You Dance, I Can Really Love is a rock song, and the other single. Rather low-concept, but a thankful change of pace from all the harrowing songs about lonely people.

We go right back to that with I Believe in You. It's an acoustic guitar partner to Birds and gets much the same reaction.

Side 2 wraps with another throwaway. Cripple Creek Ferry is one verse and a chorus. The simplicity makes it somewhat ridiculous, though the story it paints has a lot of potential.

I'm rubbing my hands in anticipation of Harvest and Live at Massey Hall 1971, though I must say After the Gold Rush is a little bit uneven.

Also, despite my lackluster readership, I have to say I'm enamoured of this job I've undertaken, and I have no intention to stop until I've reviewed everybody from Abney Park to ZZ Top.