UK indie rock quartet Deepseagreen have put their heart, soul and considerable chops into the ten songs that comprise this fine, self-titled debut disc. The additional charm lies in the fact that the tracks were done live, off the floor in a two day blow-out back in the fall of 2009.
Rock and roll that's raw, sweaty and real still exists. You have to look a bit harder for it these days, though.
Stripping it down to basics, the two-guitar, bass and drums lineup of brothers Jon and Dan Jefford, Marco Menestrina and Trent Halliday deliver tight, melodic compositions that suggest the glory days of the classic rock era. Allowing the instruments to breathe, the production job scores points for capturing the immediacy of impeccable ensemble playing coupled with a great, natural sound in the room. This disc will resonate with listeners who remember the warmth of the analog recording process. Perfect example is the lone guitar riff that heralds "On the Steps of Summer", which reverberates off the studio walls without recourse to digital manipulation. When the band kicks in, they make it count.
Another great bonus is Halliday's voice. He is spot on, throughout, without a trace of the frightful, auto-tuned aura of insecurity added to almost every contemporary recording. Highlights are plentiful here in terms of quality songs. It's quite easy to let these ten cuts play through, though several really stand out ("Black Maria", "Polarise", "Janine").
Personal favorite for me is "Plastic Lazarus". Opening with a twisting, distorted guitar figure, the expectation is that the rhythm section is going to slam, head-on, into an over-driven tempo.
Surprise.
Instead, it's a very smooth transition into a feel that suggests reggae while maintaining a razor-sharp, rock edge. Clever lyrics top a fine performance.
These guys have their act together. Deepseagreen will almost certainly find a very large audience with work of this quality. I would highly recommend that you check out their CD.
Following the demise of his artistic partnership with Paul Simon in 1970, Art Garfunkel briefly flirted with acting, teaching and then saw fit to carry on with a solo career that brought a modicum of success. Briefly reunited with Simon in 1975, they managed to fit in a few appearances and recorded one new tune (“My Little Town”) before going their separate ways again.
1977 saw Garfunkel paired with selections from the Jimmy Webb songbook, all of which would be recorded for his third, full length disc.
Well, at least for the initial release.
The completed LP hit the stores in late '77 and was unceremoniously yanked back by the record company as the first single was a no-show on the US charts.
Enter Paul Simon, who joined James Taylor and Garfunkel in a brilliant recasting of Sam Cooke’s “(What a) Wonderful World”. The arrangement is quite different from the original, almost surpassing it in terms of structure. Breathtaking vocal parts really make the difference as all three singers nail the harmonies in glorious fashion, each taking a lead line in the verses.
Serving its purpose, the lone non-Webb penned track was not only added to Watermark (which was then cleared to be sent back into the marketplace in early 1978), but also released as a single where it jumped into the top 20.
Including this stunner lifted the commercial fortunes of the record, though there are many treasures to be found on Watermark. Garfunkel applies his trademark, dulcet falsetto in interpreting Webb’s compositions, which were carefully chosen and impeccably rendered.
"Saturday Suit" is a high point.
Phil Ramone acted as co-producer and helped Garfunkel assemble a veritable "cast of thousands" to back him up. David Crosby contributed vocal parts and the cream of the session-playing crop showed up to grace these grooves. (Steve Gadd, Tony Levin, Hugh McCracken, the Chieftans just to name a few.) Staying away from the huge hits in Webb's impressive catalogue was a very astute move, as it allowed Garfunkel to put his own stamp on each selection.
Incredibly, this phenomenal collection of songs has been relegated to the netherworld of late seventies soft rock. Unjustly, it finds a home in the category of forgotten music.
Spinning my vinyl copy was certainly no chore. It revealed nuances that I hadn't previously noticed, bringing a new appreciation for Webb's lesser known tunes. Garfunkel acquits himself quite well, never seeming overwhelmed by the production that swirls around his natural tenor. "Crying In My Sleep" was the lead-off 45 that failed to dent the top 100, though listeners at that time really should have been more generous with this one. Perhaps the disco-addled brains of the masses couldn't appreciate its subtle charms.
Everything clicks here, with the title song being a personal favorite. Should you happen upon a copy, be sure not to pass it up. This is a very successful marriage of two great talents that deserves to be heard.
Persistence, virtuosity and a staunch decision to follow their instincts have been a recipe for success in the case of Rush.
Defying gravity on stage? No problem.
Creating a diverse and layered body of work over 36 years? Check.
Did the band members themselves think that the ride would last this long?
No way.
In the late sixties, Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson were high school kids from the suburbs of Toronto. Music meant a great deal to both and they quickly formed a bond through playing together and emulating their favorite bands. The impact on their grades was likely pretty severe, but they were teenagers during the golden age of rock. How could they not be smitten by acts like the Who and Cream?
Signal distortion, more advanced PA and monitoring systems were making it possible for fewer musicians to make a bigger sonic impact playing live. The age of the “power trio” (not to be confused with The Kingston Trio) dawned in the mid-sixties. Casting off the 2-3 minute formats into which pop had been straight-jacketed, many groups began to explore the outer limits of improvisation. Out of these non-linear jams, brilliance could easily slip into self-indulgent flights to the Republic of Tedium. Nevertheless, there were groups that devoted themselves to long form, multi-part epics, brimming with inventive playing. No more would the rhythm section tap or plunk out basic foundation work, while the guitarist and singer reaped all of the glory.
Happily unfettered, everyone now had their chance to shine.
With interminable soloing.
Progressive rock was born.
Truth be told, this genre was around for many years. It was called Jazz, though it wasn’t amplified by 100,000 watts with an accompanying laser light show.
Hey! Weren’t you supposed to be writing about Rush?
Indeed!
Fast forward to 1974: Our protagonists, Geddy and Alex, along with drummer John Rutsey, had long been full time gigging pros who had recorded a single and were furiously doing late night sessions to complete their self titled first album. Owing more than a small debt to the sound of the mighty Led Zeppelin, Rush had placed themselves squarely in the game.
Then John Rutsey announced that the touring grind was not for him, especially with the added burden of increasing health issues in the form of diabetes. He bowed out.
What to do?
Enter Neil Peart, whose explosive percussive skills won him the job following his audition/jam session. They had also gained a lyricist in Peart, with Lee and Lifeson more than happy to strictly work on the music.
Personnel crisis averted they then sharpened their focus, recording two more LPs (Fly By Night and Caress of Steel), toured incessantly and despite their obvious talent, saw little in the way of any significant breakthrough.
Neil Peart picks up the story:
"The ensuing tour in support of Caress of Steel was half jokingly referred to as the "Down the Tubes Tour", and it was a pretty depressing string of small towns and small clubs, and a lot of unwelcome pressure from certain quarters about making our music more accessible and more salable. It was uncertain for a time whether we would fight or fall, but finally we got mad! We came back with a vengeance with "2112", perhaps our most passionate and powerful album yet. We were talking about freedom from tyranny, and we meant it! This was the first real blend of our diverse and schizophrenic influences, and it was also our first really successful album. We felt at the time that we had achieved something that was really our own sound, and hopefully established ourselves as a definite entity. The side long title piece itself became a featured part of our live shows, as much fun for us as for our audiences, and the trend was all upwards from that point on."
Flipping a proverbial middle finger at prevailing musical trends and record company hacks, they put all of their energy into making 2112.
Conceptual pieces were not new in the world of prog-rock. Many artists had already mined this territory, with the Who’s Tommy being one of the most successful examples. Yes, Genesis and scores of other bands would devote much effort to album-side length suites that followed a loose storyline and took listeners on a journey.
So it was with side one of 2112.
Granted, this seven part suite is graced with very engaging instrumental passages, impeccably played, though the story itself is somewhat slight:
In the year 2062, a galaxy-wide war results in the union of all planets under the rule of the Red Star of the Solar Federation. By 2112, the world is controlled by the "Priests of the Temples of Syrinx", who determine the content of all reading matter, songs, pictures - every facet of life. A man discovers a guitar and learns to play different music. When he goes to present this to the priests of the Temples, they destroy the guitar. He goes into hiding and dreams of a world before the Solar Federation. Upon awakening he becomes distraught and commits suicide. As he dies, another planetary battle begins resulting in the ambiguous ending:
’Attention all planets of the Solar Federation: We have assumed control.’
As well they might.
Back in 1976, Rush pulled off a coup. In going against the wishes of their own priests of the temples of Syrinx (i.e. record company executives telling them to ditch the concepts) they gambled and won. 2112 grabbed the imaginations of young, predominately male listeners, who bought it in droves. Add to that the live draw of three world class players who mowed down every audience that they faced and the one-two punch was unbeatable.
There are plenty of magical moments through the first side (vinyl copies) of 2112, with all of the main motifs boiled down and condensed in the “Overture” (shades of Tommy). Signature riffs, tasty bass lines and muscular drum work all underpin Lee in full cry on the “Temples of Syrinx”.
In all fairness, there is enough detail in the twenty minute cycle to at least grasp the intended message, though not enough time is allotted to truly develop characters in any great depth. Hence the jarring, 90 degree angle drop experienced as the piece ends swiftly, with cold totalitarian forces (apparently) obliterating all who dare to bring any light into the lives of the masses under their control.
INTERMISSION
Let’s all go the lobby, let’s all go to the lobby, let’s all go to the lobby and get ourselves some pot
In stark contrast to the claustrophobic, grim vision of a future without choices served up in the first half, the second side of 2112 starts out with a fantastic train trip through exotic locations. Each destination offers a chance to stuff your pipe with mother nature's finest.
A dope song? Yes and it's quite fine, complete with a fantastic harmonized lead guitar/bass figure. Best track from a very stellar set.
"We only stop for the best."
This hirsute gentleman guarantees it.
Balancing shorter compositions with the extended narrative that comprised the first act was a smart move. "Something For Nothing" is a strong finish to what would be an extremely pivotal LP for Rush. If you listen closely to the lyrics, there is almost a sense that some loose ends are being tied up with respect to the dystopian picture painted of 2112. Far from subtle, it does serve to nicely bookend the idea of a nightmarish society where freedom of expression is forbidden with a gentle reminder that certain rights and privileges are often taken for granted.
Never one to mince words about his experiences behind the scenes as a Beatle, George Harrison looked forward to creating music on his own terms when the inevitable split became a reality. Roaring out of the gate with All Things Must Pass in late 1970, he viewed the group's demise as an emancipation of sorts.
Solo success brought additional pressure to top himself, not to mention his former band mates. His need to distance himself from these expectations pushed him toward some very interesting musical territory. The Dark Horse LP, in particular, flirted with elements of jazz and arrangements that his fan base found hard to embrace. The 1974 tour was marred by problems with his voice, took a critical pasting and left him disillusioned with the business that he had once been so keen to break into. By 1975, he released the half-hearted Extra Texture to dwindling sales. Coincidentally, this was the last release for George on Apple Records and the label on the vinyl copies depicted an eaten away core as opposed to the iconic Granny Smith that graced all previous discs.
Such seemed to be the state of his career and personal life at that time.
It did get worse before the gloom lifted.
1976 would see him lose the lawsuit filed against him by Bright Tunes, which charged him with lifting the melody of the Chiffons "He's So Fine" for "My Sweet Lord". The actual story on this one is quite bizarre.
Back in 1969, he accepted an offer to do a short tour with Delaney and Bonnie and Friends. Harrison's experience was quite positive and he enjoyed the simple act of playing as part of a great band, without the nuisance of screaming idiots drowning out every note. At one tour stop, Delaney Bramlett and George were hanging out after the gig and Harrison quizzed Bramlett about his song writing: "George came over to me and asked what inspired me to write gospel songs. I told him that I get thngs from the Bible, from what a preacher may say or just my feelings toward God. He said, 'Well, can you give me a for instance? How would you start?' So I grabbed my guitar and started playing the Chiffons melody from 'He's So Fine', singing the words My sweet Lord/Oh, my Lord/I just wanna be with you. George said okay. Then I said, 'Then you praise the Lord in your own way.' Rita and Bonnie were there and I told them when we got to that one part to sing Hallelujah."
Over a year later, Bramlett was shocked to hear this tune blasting out of every radio station he tuned to. He called Harrison and told him that he did not intend for him to actually use that melody. George claimed that he had changed it, though certainly not enough to avoid legal trouble.
Bramlett was even more shocked when he learned that he received zero writing credit for his efforts.
Probably for the best as it turned out.
Back to 1976, he was now unencumbered by contractual obligation to Apple. Signing on with A & M Records, health issues in the form of hepatitis delayed the recording of his new album. A & M promptly sued for breach of contract as the master tapes were not delivered on time.
Enter Warner Brothers records, who gladly took him on and bailed him out of his litigation with Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss. Are we there yet?
Yes.
Considered a return to form, Thirty Three and a Third benefited greatly from the injection of humor in some of the lyrics. Slapped for his more lugubrious excursions into spiritual subject matter, Harrison toned down his proclivity for proselytizing in favor of more down to earth themes.
This set of tunes found him singing about cars ("It's What You Value"), women ("Woman Don't you Cry For Me", "Beautiful Girl") recent legal tangles ("This Song") the absurdities of life in the good old material world ("Crackerbox Palace") and Smokey Robinson ("Pure Smokey"). Malaise thus lifted, it does seem that a great deal of care was taken with arrangements and acheiving the right sounds to match the mood of the music: light and breezy.
Melodic touch sharpened to a fine point, Harrison's slide work is impeccable throughout. The session crew that he employed was not much different from his previous outings (Billy Preston, Tom Scott et al.), though the material that he gave them to work with was far more upbeat. You can hear great joy infused in their playing as a result.
Taking honors as the standout of the pack, "Crackerbox Palace" marries a silky slide orchestra with some of the wittiest lines to ever grace a Harrisong.
Another factor that certainly helped this album was George's mining of song ideas from the late sixties. Revisiting no less than three compositions left unfinished between 1967 and 1969 ("Woman Don't You Cry For Me", "Beautiful Girl" and "See Yourself"), he likely found renewed inspiration in their completion. Managing to go back even further, the lone cover is a very clever update of Cole Porter's "True Love", originally sung by Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly in the movie High Society.
Closing with some cool jazz, "Learning How to Love You" was originally slated to be given to Herb Alpert to record. Considering the spectacular failure of George's short-lived partnership with A & M records, there is a certain incongruous calm displayed in this gentle offering that belied the business squabbles in which both were ensnared at that time.
I'm sure that in a parallel universe, there's a George Harrison LP called Fuck You, Herbie!
Definitely one of his strongest sets from the seventies.
WATER ON THE MOON "Got to be starting something, everything has got to change"
Opening their latest disc with a call to arms, New York's Crazy Mary convey a positive message in "Eyes Above the Clouds" exhorting listeners to "use the weapon of love". Freewheeling in their approach, each track is infused with stellar playing and a particularly soulful feel that nods in the direction of the late sixties. There is a great sense that these people really enjoy making music together, which bodes well for finding a loyal audience, as that natural ebullience is something which cannot be faked. People know when it's real and get swept up in the energy.
"Gravity" is my personal pick of the pack, with clever shifts in time signature and nice harmonies all wrapped in an ethereal chord sequence.
Reminiscent of the experimental side of the Jefferson Airplane, Crazy Mary at times takes chances in arrangement and form. While their songwriting heads are in the clouds, they do keep their feet on the ground with solid grooves.
Much to be commended here, though I am surprised that I have not heard of them until now. They have been turning out albums for the past decade and I have some catching up to do.
You may peruse their discography here and then take some time out to learn more about the band
Music of this caliber should be finding a place on the play-lists of contemporary rock stations. We should demand more of that medium. In the meantime, independent ideas still thrive on the net. Time for a change?
It's long overdue.
Here's one to enjoy from the Crazy Mary archives (2001). Water on the Moon is available now and comes highly recommended.
Over fifty years have passed since the The Kingston Trio's close harmonies first made an impact on record buyers. Sporting haircuts that you could set your watch by, with vocal arrangements as sharp as their matching shirts, these guys were also excellent musicians. Their success was a product of possessing a fine ear for arranging traditional tunes coupled with raw talent. Commercially, folk music hit a rare peak in the early 60s due to the pioneering work of Dave Guard, Bob Shane and Nick Reynolds.
Criticized by purists at the time for taking more of a populist approach to the music that they turned out, hindsight reveals more versatility than audience pandering in their material.
From the Hungry i was the second release by the group in 1959 and was excerpted from two nights of recordings made during their month long engagement at this venerable San Francisco venue. "Tic Tic Tic" is my personal favorite. Tight playing and singing is the rule, rather than the exception with nary a note out of place.
Despite their appeal, they were often dogged by a dark, disingenuous cloud for claiming traditional songs that had fallen into the category of public domain as their own. It's one thing to co-opt dusty old melodies from another century (and many artists did so), though when they attempted to take credit for Pete Seeger's (co-written by Joe Hickerson) poignant "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?", he politely asked that they drop any pretense of authorship.
For all that, their rendition is nothing short of perfect. Featured on The College Concert, it is one of many highlights on their first live disc with John Stewart who had replaced founding member Dave Guard in 1961. Guard's departure was apparently not amicable.
Nostalgia has been the primary driver for having these discs in rotation for the past few weeks. My parents had both of these LPs and I used to listen to them quite a bit as a child. (The cartoon depiction of the streets of San Francisco on the Hungry i album cover seemed like a page out of a coloring book to a four year old and I used it accordingly.)
Both sets hold up quite well.
The lads began to fall out of favor in the mid-sixties as more serious social concerns called for stronger language. People who chose to get their folk on now turned to singer/songwriters whose work reflected the turbulence of the times. British invasion bands helped swing the pendulum back toward rock.
Inevitably, they would call it a day in 1967, though the act has been revived with different line-ups in the intervening years.
Balancing ego and accomplishment within the structure of a band is a tricky proposition. While some are content to play their role without demanding a greater slice of creative control or additional time in the limelight, many groups have fallen apart due to needless power struggles within their ranks. Fights about whose songs should be included, the overall musical direction to follow, image and a host of other contentious points have toppled many acts before they have had a chance to fulfill their initial promise.
So it was with Sabbath, Mach II, as 1982 drew to a close.
Please allow Tony Iommi to break it all down for you.
We'd worked so much and we'd been everywhere, non-stop work for years and then we recorded the live album and I say that loosely because of instead of being involved with it and listening to the sound in the [mobile recording] truck, it was recorded that quick at these gigs and we were more concerned with the gig than getting involved in the recording side.
When we got the [live recordings] in the studio, they were just bloody awful. It was so badly recorded that we had a big problem with it. We were pretty tired and our nerves were on edge and it just led to a bad feeling in the band.
And then to top it all, the engineer that was working with us was drinking more and more during these sessions and getting more and more pissed. One day, me and Geezer said, "It sounds different from how we left it last night" -- and this was going on for weeks – and the engineer said, "I can't take this any more! Ronnie's been coming in and adjusting everything and then you lot come in and adjust and then he comes in and adjusts it again and I just don't know what to do!"
And we said, "You're kidding?" and we broke up because of that! And of course, it was all hearsay and I don't really believe [what the engineer said] now but we did at the time.
Dio walked, taking Appice with him to forge a solo career.
Everything had been going so well...
Live Evil hit the racks not long after this bitterly acrimonious period of mixing, remixing, disowning and quitting took place. Quite good it is, too.
Courtesy of Circus Magazine, I recall reading a review of one of the gigs on the Mob Rules tour (Pine Knob amphitheater in Michigan) at that time, with mention of a forthcoming official live recording. This was the first Sabbath record that I was able to purchase when it originally came out. There were many debates revolving around Dio's handling of the Ozzy-era material, especially as Osbourne had released Speak of the Devil (a double live album of old Sabbath tunes) at roughly the same time. In the summer of 1983, I listened to both incessantly.
There are plenty of highlights, including the marathon version of "Heaven and Hell" welded together with "The Sign of the Southern Cross", complete with Ronnie's stage banter about recording/filming the show for eventual release and the audience participation segment. "Voodoo" has an extra verse, Iommi shreds, while Geezer and Vinny fill the spaces with beautiful noise.
If it's too loud, you're too old
It's worth mentioning that, for audiophiles, Live Evil exists in several formats, all with differences that range from track sequence (cassette has different running order than the vinyl copy), mix (CD vs. the record, UK vs. US masters) with the strangest being a CD release from Castle in 1996 that boiled everything down to one disc and eliminated Dio's between-song chatter. The Deluxe Edition, on the market since April 2010, has righted this careless tampering.
"Original Dio crowd interaction and audience noise restored."
Good.
Regardless of which copy you may own, it is a sterling document of this incarnation of Sabbath.
Bolstered by the warm reception that Heaven and Hell received from critics and fans, Sabbath now returned strongly to the commercial arena. Always popular as a live act, their record sales had dwindled sharply from the mid 70s. Those fortunes now reversed, they carried on with an extensive tour to support Heaven and Hell. Plagued by a number of personal issues, Bill Ward abruptly quit the band before a show in the middle of the tour.
Enter Vinny Appice.
Younger brother of Vanilla Fudge drummer Carmine Appice, he brought a different approach, technique and attack to the Sabs. At the time, Tony admitted that Appice's playing gave himself and Geezer "a kick up the arse" on stage, sharpening their focus with live arrangements of both the new and "classic" material.
These changes amounted to a total overhaul in the sound and personality of the group, though it was an "apples and oranges" comparison when matched against the original line-up. Both incarnations produced work of great merit, equally enjoyable on many levels.
Striking while the proverbial iron was hot, the Anglo-American Sabbath went into the studio to record the tracks that would comprise Mob Rules. Once again, Martin Birch handled production duties and the results were impressive. A decade would pass before these four musicians collaborated on another studio recording, though we're jumping ahead a bit.
Back to 1981
Much heavier than the last set, Mob Rules kicks off with Vinny Appice applying a balpine hammer to open hi-hats, announcing the arrival of "Turn Up The Night". Setting the tone for a very compelling "side one", it has a great turnaround in the bridge with a frenetic build-up to the guitar solo. Iommi's sound is much brighter in the mix, which Birch ensures is balanced with much more "top end" than usual for Sabbath. Dio's themes deal with madness, violence and black magic blending with his standard recipe for conjuring tales out of the mist. He particularly scores on both the epic "The Sign of the Southern Cross" and the fleet-footed "Falling Off the Edge of the World", which has an inspired guitar figure with tortuous, demanding intervals.
Throw in the pulverizing title track, an incredibly fast exercise in distorted mayhem that reinforced their position as dealers of the weightiest slabs of metal in the business, and the picture is complete. Even somewhat lesser tracks ("Slipping Away", "Over and Over") still have an energy in performance that keep them afloat and give the impression that they are worthy of placement amongst the other giants on the disc.
Very fine album.
Interesting to note that the song sequence is quite similar to Heaven and Hell, which suggests that perhaps a bit of branding was afoot. It would have been interesting to see what musical course this aggregation charted next. Following the tour in support of Mob Rules, things went downhill pretty fast, leading to another major shakeup in the Sabbath camp.
Picture a great storm passing over a patch of ocean water thousands of miles away. Suddenly, two or more waves recombine to form a large swell that travels over a great expanse to come crashing into your local coastline. The well crafted, instrumental stylings of UK artist Matt Stevens have been unleashed in similar fashion, with his latest disc, Ghost, headed this way.
Stevens utilizes his formidable acoustic guitar skills to great effect, conjuring up inspiring themes that instantly lodge themselves firmly in your consciousness. Once you think you have it figured out, he deftly shifts the creative goal posts, thereby ensuring that the listener's attention is maintained throughout. Layering his motifs intelligently, there are many subtle, moving parts within these compositions that demand repeated listening.
The best part? Human hands play an integral role in 99 percent of everything you hear on Ghost. Technology is only employed to enhance the material, not to create or overpower it. Great care has been taken with the arrangements and every note is executed tastefully
Standout tracks are "Into the Sea", "Eleven" "8:19" and "Ghost", though this is merely a matter of preference as all that you encounter here is brimming with melody and invention. Truly enjoyable in every aspect.
Did you ever have one of those little daydreams where you try to trace a series of events/decisions that led you to your present position in life?
Of course you have!
You wouldn't be human if you didn't take time to ponder your place in the cosmos. Happenstance, luck or just deviating from your usual weekend routine can sometimes alter the course of your existence.
For John Osbourne (Ozzy to his friends), 1979 was a pivotal year. Black Sabbath spent the latter part of the 70s in decline. Their last two releases (Technical Ecstasy and Never Say Die) had a soporific effect on the hardcore element of their fan base and rehearsals for the next project with Ozzy fell apart quickly. The ax was bound to fall. Fired from his gig fronting Sabbath after ten years and eight albums, Osbourne was in sorry shape. The decision to let him go on the grounds that his substance abuse and drinking were out of control could be viewed as a bit hypocritical, in light of the fact that the others were not exactly model candidates for membership in the temperance society themselves. Worse yet, drummer Bill Ward, one of his closest friends, was chosen to be the bearer of bad tidings
Ward was so out of it during this time that he does not recall the recording sessions for Heaven and Hell.
Making the story even more interesting is the fact that Sharon Arden (daughter of Don Arden, who managed Sabbath at that point) recommended Ronnie James Dio as Ozzy's replacement. Sharon would go on to manage and marry Ozzy, steering him through a very successful solo career.
Fate.
With Dio on board, the Sabbath machine once again started up in earnest, though bassist Geezer Butler quit for a period of time and was replaced by Craig Gruber (another former Rainbow member). Geoff Nichols also moved in to augment the band with keyboards. Work started on what would become the Heaven and Hell album. Butler returned early in 1980, carrying on with tracking as the new songs came together. Nichols remained, though Gruber was again out of a gig.
Gone were the transitory experiments with strings, brass and jazz stylings that had crept into parts of their previous two discs. Combining the traditional, bass-heavy attack with a slightly more sophisticated approach in the vocal department served to revitalize their sound. The relative excellence and consistency of these new compositions added up to a very satisfying listening experience, with Iommi stripping things back to basics. He proceeded to turn in his most impressive set of guitar figures in quite some time.
The Dio/Sabbath marriage rejuvenated interest in the group, though, clearly, an altogether different style was presented to listeners. "Neon Knights" kicks down the door at full speed, with an intensity that doesn't let up until the quick break before the solo. Fantasy imagery mixes with a tearing riff and Dio's peerless vocals. Instantly, they shred just about everything in the Rainbow discography in just under four minutes of metal. "Children of the Sea", a thinly disguised cautionary tale about poisoning the environment, opens softly before kicking into the sludgy mid-tempo riff that winds through a few tricky changes, including a great turnaround that supports Iommi's tasteful lead break. This passage breaks down with a mild chant in the background as we loop back to the introductory passage. Brilliant on all fronts, both of these tracks would soon be staples of the live set.
"Lady Evil" is notable for a little joke inserted close to the end of the tune. Singing of a woman who resides in Witches Valley and hand feeds the darkness itself, Dio seems to have no trouble with his new bandmates trying to steer him away from his natural writing style. In turn, after a breakdown with some tasty wah-wah pedal-driven lines, Iommi breaks into the riff from Cliff Richard's 1976 hit, "Devil Woman", before wrapping back into the outro verse.
You can almost imagine him flashing a subversive smile while doing so. There is confidence exuded in every aspect of the playing, none more so than on the astounding, multi-part title track.
"The closer you get to the meaning, the sooner you'll know that you're dreaming
And it's on and on and on, it's Heaven and Hell"
Heralded by a signature riff from Iommi, the distorted intro dissipates, leaving a sparse, insistent bass and drum foundation over which Ronnie powerfully delivers his lyric. Almost hypnotic in structure, the song shifts gears several times with a wealth of changes that could have been used to drive several different compositions. Nichols provides atmospheric coloring on keys throughout. Resolving on what seems to be an abrupt conclusion, Ward kicks in double time, with a perfectly controlled, yet frenetic sounding beat upon which the others jump on furiously.
"They say that life's a carousel, spinning fast you've got to ride it well, the world is full of kings and queens, who'll blind your eyes and steal your dreams it's Heaven and Hell"
Breathlessly racing to the finish, there is passion in every pore of this music, by far the best out of everything on this disc, which is saying something.
As a teenager, I used to listen to side two of this record in headphones many a night while in that twilight space between consciousness and sleep. It's a phenomenal stretch of music that walks a fine line between aggressive playing and lighter moments. Dio's range is on full display as he handles both moods with ease, often within the same track. ("Wishing Well and "Die Young" being perfect examples)
Closing with one of their most underrated pieces ("Lonely Is the Word") Iommi works in some jazzy licks, finally incorporating this side of his playing quite successfully in the context of what begins as a lugubrious, slogging riff that lightens in tone toward the end. Dio is particularly inspired and through the long fade, Nichols quotes from the Jimmy Page playbook with a repeated, short burst of notes (on keyboard) straight out of the final moments of the "Stairway to Heaven" solo. I'm not sure if it was done intentionally or not, though it's certainly apropos, considering the album's cornerstone title track.
Perhaps done as a jibe in the direction of his former band, the back cover artwork is a carbon copy of the last Rainbow LP to feature Dio. Speculatively, this had to have been his idea, or at least an extension of his sense of humor.
Heaven and Hell stands as one of their masterworks, bar none.
Personnel changes would be the only constant during the period that Rainbow was active. Following the Rising tour, it was three up, two down.
Jimmy Bain: gone.
Tony Carey: gone.
Enter keyboardist David Stone and bassist Mark Clarke.
Well lads, let's get to work on the new album. Uhhh, except you, Mark. You're fired!
Blackmore decided to handle the bass parts himself, for the most part, with Bob Daisley called in to take the honors on three tunes ("Kill the King", "Sensitive to Light" and "Gates of Babylon"). When the dust settled, the finished product fell a bit short of their last studio effort. Indeed, there is an overall sense that the creative interplay between Dio and Blackmore is on the wane, the result being workmanlike.
A lesser opus, if you will.
Containing a mix of the very fine ("Kill the King" "Gates of Babylon") and play by the numbers ("Lady of the Lake" "LA Connection") Long Live Rock 'n' Roll is a bit too uneven to earn the "classic" stamp. Dio turns in his usual spotless vocal performance, though Blackmore's playing doesn't have the fire he had previously displayed and many of the riffs come off as fairly generic. Disappointing for someone of his capabilities. The signature, mystical quality of the lyrics seems to be submerged in favor of more mundane fare. "Sensitive to Light" sounds as if it could slot in comfortably on a Nazareth LP, with the exception of the lead vocals.
The Devil makes an appearance, as per usual, though the Goat-Footed One's presence is fleeting as are the themes that evoke mist, swords and sorcery. Dio's natural affinity for such subject matter was now at odds with Blackmore's desire to lean in a more mainstream direction. This rift would widen, leading to RJD's depature from the Rainbow fold in 1979. The revolving cast of musicians would render the band unrecognizable as they soldiered on into the eighties.
"Rainbow Eyes" closes out this set in curious fashion. The execution, structure and pace are undeniably pretty, though this track really belongs at some second rate Renaissance Fair, being woefully out of step with everything else here.
Far too medieval and not enough evil.
No wonder Dio bolted.
The next move for this powerful singer would surprise many and forge another winning, albeit short-lived, writing partnership.
Looking to capitalize on their strengths, live recordings of Rainbow in full flight were made at stops in Germany and Japan on the tour to support Rising. Cherry picking the best versions of songs from their sets, Martin Birch was tasked with pulling together the finished product for release in 1977.
It has been said of Blackmore that he's always been much more comfortable playing live than in the confines of the studio and certainly much more inventive when walking the tightrope in front of an audience. Dio had the range and power to easily carry off everything he did on record, often surpassing those versions. Add the powerhouse rhythm section with a versatile keyboardist to tastefully fill the spaces and you have the recipe for an incredibly exciting live experience.
That it is.
On Stage documents a band that's firing on all cylinders. It would also represent the beginning of the end for this lineup.
Forging ahead in grand style, the two principal members of Rainbow wrote six new songs together and as the calendar page flipped over to usher in 1976, Ronnie and Ritchie had fired the rest of the band.
When the magicians clapped their hands, not only did a dove materialize but also three new hired guns: Cozy Powell, Jimmy Bain and Tony Carey now filled the drum, bass and keyboard slots. Dream lineup in place, they recorded the Rising album in just one month. As with the first disc, the legendary Martin Birch handled production/engineering duties and the final product clocked in at just 33 minutes.
This is where the similarities end.
Lauded as one of the finest works of the heavy metal genre, there is zero filler in this most impressive set.
Rock was starting to show some bloat by this stage. The advent of the power trio in the late sixties saw the role of the rhythm guitarist vanish through the magic of signal phase distortion, walls of amplifiers and PA systems designed to blast the eardrums of thousands. The early seventies gave rise to acts who invented LOUD. Sabbath, Purple, Zeppelin... all delivered volume by the truckload. As the decade wore on, these groups would move away from the sonic styles that made them famous. With "heavy" giving way to soft rock, disco and homogenous, corporate, soulless garbage, there had to be a successor to the recently abdicated metal throne.
This incarnation of Rainbow would not disappoint.
Built on the sheer strength of the players involved, the opener ("Tarot Woman") is prefaced by over a minute of synth noodling with Blackmore's intro riff faded up into the mix as everyone kicks in hard.
"Beware of a place, a smile on a bright shiny face. I'll never return, how do you know? Tarot woman"
Ritchie's solos are tasteful and Dio provides his own harmony vocal to punch home the chorus. It's a mesmerizing performance all around. The remainder of the first side is no less gripping, with every measure taken to keep the arrangements tight, yet each musician has room to showcase their talents. The drum fills in "Run With the Wolf" are plentiful, inventive, though they do not overpower the song. Even better, the running time of each selection is quite economical. Business is stated quickly, with a hard edge to balance the near pop format, replete with extremely effective hooks.
Epic pieces are saved for the mighty second side.
"Stargazer" gets the full orchestral treatment, drifting close to Zep's "Kashmir" in places (you'll hear it) and prefigures the territory that Iron Maiden would later explore further ("To Tame A Land" and "Powerslave" ) with guitar parts that have a middle eastern flavor.
Closing with the supercharged "A Light in the Black", each instrumentalist really gets to stretch out, with dextrous, flame-thrower solos tossed out by both Carey and Blackmore.
It really doesn't get much better than this. Dio hurls vocal Molotov cocktails, making the most of every syllable, wasting not a word. Rising is clearly the very best LP to be issued in the Dio-era of Rainbow and this line-up is the main reason for that. Jimmy Bain would soon be dumped from the band by the ever mercurial Blackmore, though he would be again recruited by Dio in the early 80s when the singer formed his own group.
The next item on the Rainbow project list involved capturing their live show for release.
Though he had been fronting bands since his teen years (in the late 1950s), Ronnie James Dio did so in relative obscurity until 1975. He had caught the ear of Deep Purple's Ritchie Blackmore while singing for a group called Elf. Due largely to his prodigious vocal talent, the band was invited to tour with Purple. He caught a further break when Blackmore, pissed with the direction that DP Mach III was moving in, recruited Ronnie and his Elf-mates to make an album.
This is where the Dio legend begins.
Hurriedly recorded, the debut disc has its moments, though suffers from being somewhat underwritten. Containing the very fine "Man On The Silver Mountain" and stellar cuts like "Catch the Rainbow", this is by no means a bad record. The highlights make it worthwhile, though it is not consistently brilliant. What really counts is RJD's peerless voice, which lifts everything he touches. There would be no conventional "you know I love ya baby" couplets tossed out as an afterthought, as he worked to craft lyrics that suggest fantastic realms, occupied by otherworldly characters. This would become his signature, garnering as much attention as his operatic delivery.
Clocking in at just over a half hour in total, padded by two covers, it only provides a glimpse of the potential that the Blackmore/Dio partnership had to offer. Their follow up would be far superior.
Long before their ascent to fame, Hall and Oates were fixtures on the Philadelphia scene, toiling away in separate groups. Even after cementing their creative partnership, they wrote and performed in relative anonymity for quite some time before they took the first steps toward wider recognition and eventual superstardom. Their first release as a duo (Whole Oats) in 1972 was roundly ignored.
Undeterred, the pair went about the process of writing songs for their next full length disc, Abandoned Luncheonette.
It would be nice to report that this record was a monster hit, though, sadly, it met with the same fate as their first LP. Critical raves across the board did not translate to commercial success. Truly a shame that the record buying public let this one slip by on first appearance, as it is melodically strong, cleverly arranged and extremely engaging.
To their credit, they pressed on.
For those who have a nodding acquaintance with Hall and Oates, the work found here does not bear any resemblance to the material that struck gold for them in the eighties. That's not a criticism; merely a friendly setting of expectation for those who want to delve into this record. Your curiosity will be rewarded as their estimable talents as writers/performers coalesce on a number of very inventive selections. It is the pairing of voices that really puts the material across. Abandoned Luncheonette also proved to be a proverbial Trojan Horse, concealing a potent weapon that would go unnoticed on the first pass.
Ultimately, fellow R & B soulsters (The Tavares) would record "She's Gone" and hit number 1 in 1974. The original version found here on this disc didn't score for its composers until 1976. Still holds up as one of their finest creations. Elsewhere, the adventurous. multi-part title track would spin a tale that Billy Joel would take more than a few cues from when constructing "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant" four years later.
Highlights here are "Had I Known You Better Then", "Las Vegas Turnaround" and the very fine "I'm Just a Kid (Don't Make Me Feel Like a Man)". Production is slick, quarterbacked by the late Arif Mardin. Despite the instrumental layering present, he does not forget to accentuate the harmonies that the pair hit so effortlessly throughout. Intimacy is maintained, despite the long list of musicians that contribute to the mix. These tunes stand, never overwhelmed by the augmentation, all boasting merit and melody. The duo has always excelled in live performance (as the clips posted here demonstrate). Arrangements of these songs for the stage were grittier and they had the chops (with a stellar supporting cast) to pull it all off with ease.
With so much going for it, there is really no reason why this set shouldn't have been a hit. The cover choice was certainly an artsy decision, though it probably didn't help to market the LP in any tangible way. With "glitter rock" all the rage during the early 70s, a record sleeve depicting a crumbling cafe really couldn't compete with androgynous, space alien singers.
Easily the best representation of their early work.
One of rock and roll's best friends, Joe Heuer, has written a brand new book called "The Rock and Roll Guide to Customer Loyalty"
Finally, a guide that makes perfect sense! Insightful, humorous and well worth your time, this is highly recommended reading. There is a sharp wit mingled with very positive messages on every page.
Britain was the spawning ground for many of the most innovative rock groups of the sixties, with an impressive list of bands that virtually changed the face of popular music. Contemporary listeners have little difficulty identifying the Beatles, Stones, the Who, Cream and other giants of that era.
Mention The Gods, however, and you will likely be met with a blank stare.
Notable for reasons other than their output, they had a rotating cast of members that would move on to find greater success elsewhere. Mick Taylor and Greg Lake both logged time as Gods, though they were gone well before the initial recording sessions commenced for Genesis.
Interestingly enough, two fourths of the lineup on this album (Ken Hensley and Lee Kerslake) would be later play a major part in Uriah Heep.
We are now getting ahead of the story. Time to blow the dust off of a forgotten disc.
Progressive rock was in its infancy in 1968, though there were many aggregations who were more than prepared to propel mainstream fare into the outer limits. Psychedelia was still very much in vogue, though the free form jams that were a product of lysergic influences began to give way to more traditional formats. The British blues movement brought long improvisations in line with 12 bar structures. The Gods had been playing the blues, though they went in another direction, embraced the spirit of the times and adopted the trippy sounds of the era.
You can hear the beginnings of what would become the signature, Hammond-driven sound of Uriah Heep in the early 70's, due to the dominant instrumental presence of Hensley. He handles lead vocal chores here as well. The end product is decent and well worth listening to, though it is an unremarkable set. Exceptions are the brilliant "I Never Know", which features a dreamlike mellotron part and "Looking Glass" with vocals that threaten to scrape the stratosphere.
Redolent of the sounds that were prevalent in the late 60's, there are few surprises if you are familiar with contemporary music of that period. You can hear stylistic traces of Vanilla Fudge and Steppenwolf in places.
To their credit, no truly horrible songs spoil the proceedings, although the tiresome, random sound effects that link the tracks do not jell with the music that is presented. There is a feverish imagination at work that carries the material and makes it seem more interesting than it actually is. Again, this is a more of a curio for those who want to trace the early flowerings of the prog movement, though it is a respectable effort.
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