AERIAL BALLET

Fittingly titled, the third Nilsson record soars majestically. Named for a vaudeville act originally performed by his grandparents, there is definitely a circus-like atmosphere woven into the grooves. The cover art depicts an old fashioned aircraft superimposed on a drawing of the artist's unsmiling visage. This provides another perspective entirely as the songs deftly perform the sonic equivalent of an Inmelmann turn, which is comprised of an ascending half-loop followed by a half-roll. Successful execution means that the pilot brings the plane to a higher altitude and pulls off a course change of 180 degrees. Listeners are guaranteed an equally exhilarating experience.

In addition to capturing that gravity defying voice in the midst of complex aerobatic maneuvers, producer Rick Jarrard pushes studio craft to its very limit. Add to this the remarkable arrangements of George Tipton and you have a veritable dream team in place. Harry brought some of his most innovative compositions to the table, resulting in one of his finest albums.

Despite the lighthearted intro, "Daddy's Song" alludes to the personal pain felt by its author, whose own father deserted him at an early age. This underscores a rigid dichotomy that informs much of content in this set. Themes of loneliness, insecurity and ruptured relationships are set to uplifting musical accompaniment. This could easily be a companion piece to "1941" from his previous disc. Wrestling with the raw emotions that come with paternal abandonment, there is the idealized version of Dad in the first two verses followed up by the reality of "the rainy day" that he left and the vow to end the cycle of sadness should he become a father himself. With its meticulously multi-tracked harmonies, this beautiful song makes for a compelling opener. In jarring juxtaposition to people who let you down comes a truly inventive ode to the workstation.

“When my heart’s on the floor I just open the drawer of my favorite guest / And what do I see but a picture of me working at my good old desk"

Melodic with a truly killer hook, "Good Old Desk" is one of the highlights in a stellar set. Curiously, many read a divine meaning into the title, seeing it as an acronym for the Almighty (G.O.D.). Appearing on Playboy After Dark in 1969, Nilsson performed the tune, telling host Hugh Hefner (with a straight face) that, "the song's meaning was in its initials." Years later, he fessed up to the fact that he was really just bullshitting Hefner and simply thought that it was a funny thing to say. In truth, there was a far more mundane inspiration for this one. Nilsson had office space at RCA and elaborated on his quiet place of work in a 1977 interview on the BBC:

"I had this little office with a desk, and a lamp, and then a couple of things on the wall and a rug. I turned the regular office overhead lights out and just lit this little lamp, and I was very comfortable there. I'd go there at night and write and there was no one in the building."

The other standout in terms of ingenuity and execution is the brilliant "One". Harry claimed that the staccato keyboard centerpiece of the arrangement was conjured while placing a phone call and getting a busy signal. His vocal is a mini master-class in dynamics, culminating in a flawless falsetto leap toward the outro. Pre-figuring Neil Young by a few years, the "number" that you're doing here is a thinly veiled reference to rolling/smoking a left handed ciggie. Tipton takes a minimalist approach to augmentation, with light strings, decorative flute and a hint of harpsichord supporting that effortless hummingbird of a voice throughout. Three Dog Night covered "One", scoring a hit, while Harry's version failed to chart. Great shame, as the original here is far superior.

Aerial Ballet is notable for being a proverbial Trojan horse, as it contains Nilsson's version of Fred Neil's "Everybody's Talkin'", which would sit virtually unnoticed until it was pulled for inclusion on the Midnight Cowboy film soundtrack in 1969. In an odd reversal of fortune, while others would hit big with his songs, he would do the same when covering the work of other writers. It would earn him his first Grammy.

There is nothing resembling "rock" to be found in the grooves of Aerial Ballet. Nor does the material align with anything remotely psychedelic, flying in the face of the trends of those times. Instead, the musical underpinnings are incredibly serene, at times seeming like a throwback to a bygone era. The professional songwriter surfaces in offerings like "Don't Leave Me" and "The Wailing of the Willow" and both also tap feelings of sadness that are at the core of the lyrical subject matter throughout. Elsewhere, Beatlesque touches can be found in the story-oriented songs ("Mr. Tinker" and "Mr. Richland's Favorite Song"). Harry weaves these narratives with a sharp eye for concision and exposition of the theme, taking the shortest route possible. Your patience is never tested in spinning this wonderful disc as no cut exceeds the three minute mark. While Nilsson Schmilsson often gets the critical nod as his best work, this is an equally strong contender for that honor. It is no surprise that his contemporaries greatly admired his estimable talents. Using his voice as an instrument, backed by top class musicians with a sympathetic producer in his corner, Aerial Ballet is a high watermark in his catalog.

CROSBY, STILLS & NASH at 50

Seismic shifts in popular music occurred during the 1960s. Artists who stretched the boundaries of expression provided listeners with sounds that would have a shelf life lasting for decades beyond the era in which they were created. Rock as a genre had matured. With the advent of FM radio format, full length albums became statements that required your attention as opposed to one or two hit singles cobbled together with filler. Stylistic diversity and the element of surprise were a constant thread that made the material so compelling. As the decade wound down, a new musical aggregate appeared on the scene that would inspire their contemporaries and have a powerful influence on the sonic template of the seventies.

The debut LP of Crosby, Stills and Nash was a game changer.

What's more, they did it quietly.

While the principals themselves disagree on exactly where they first blended their voices in glorious harmony (Joni Mitchell's place versus Cass Elliot's pad for those placing the home game), what is not in dispute is how important the results were. The trio were all former members of high profile groups. Crosby had success with the Byrds, Stills came to prominence with Buffalo Springfield and Nash was a key player in the Hollies. All had experienced creative frustration during their time with these bands. The idea of using their own names for this new project would guarantee that each writer was given equal billing and would be free to pursue solo work, if they so desired. Ground rules in place, they began the task of crafting and rehearsing the songs that would comprise this phenomenal disc.

THRILL ME TO THE MARROW

Opening with the multi-part stunner that is "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes", the tone is set beautifully. Shimmering harmonies, inventive acoustic playing, Latin flavors and shifting time signatures are blended expertly. Stephen Stills quarterbacks this one, topping his cry from the heart with a soulful lead vocal. Nicknamed "Captain Manyhands" by the others, he plays almost every note on multiple instruments throughout, with few exceptions. Stills' recently ruptured relationship with folk singer Judy Collins translates into a soaring, majestic cornerstone piece. It is nothing less than a career highlight. Just as you catch your breath from the jubilant outro, a snippet of spoken gibberish (courtesy of Crosby) leads into the sleek, catchy "Marrakesh Express". Finding hidden messages embedded in rock records had become de rigueur for those fanatics whose sleuthing was generally aided by a healthy supply of cannabis (or other stimulants). Poking fun at this with his subversive intro, Croz probably inadvertently caused many to damage their vinyl copies trying to play this backward. The joke gets funnier when you take into consideration that many were looking to East Indian philosophies and gurus to find a deeper meaning to their existence. Composer Nash gently sends up all and sundry looking for "The Answer".

Sweeping cobwebs from the edges of my mind
Had to get away to see what we could find
Hope the days that lie ahead
Bring us back to where they've led
Listen not to what's been said to you

He scores with a melodic single, which made it into the top 30 along with "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes". Graham has finely honed pop sensibilities, a knack for which would land CSN on top forty playlists with regularity. Crosby weighs in next with the serene, intelligently designed "Guinnevere". His vocal interplay with Nash is a model of economy and beauty, while the tuning he uses (EBDGAD) enhances the ethereal quality of this quiet gem. All three tracks serve to introduce you to the eclectic nature of the group dynamic and the personalities behind the creative process.

Stills provides two more acoustic-guitar-centric vehicles to showcase their spotless harmonies in "You Don't Have to Cry" and "Helplessly Hoping". The former was the proving ground for Nash to add his clean, stratospheric high harmony to that of his partners in crime. How amazing would it have been to be in the room when he listened intently to the first pass and then provided the missing piece to what would become their signature sound. When you have singers that are this talented, why pile on layers of augmentation? "Helplessly Hoping" is pure, alliterative magic and would remain a staple of their set-lists for years to come.

"Wooden Ships" boasts a brilliant, anti-war tale with Stills and Crosby each taking a lead role from the prospective of characters who are survivors of a nuclear holocaust. Written with Paul Kantner, the narrative ingeniously has the post-apocalyptic group escaping the fallout zone by boat to start a new civilization.

Horror grips us as we watch you die
All we can do is echo your anguished cries
Stare as all human feelings die
We are leaving you don't need us

This is one of the handful of selections that have a full band arrangement (meaning Stills plays everything with Dallas Taylor on drums). The sleeper cuts are "Pre-Road Downs", another criminally underrated Nash tune with a great hook and Crosby's very fine "Long Time Gone". Crosby tends to be overshadowed by his mates as a lead vocalist, though he turns in a powerful performance. The sheer confidence that is on display in every aspect of this landmark recording is felt even today, fifty years after it landed in stores and subsequently on the turntables of millions.

Why is this such an important record?

The key is in the approach. Sharply bucking prevailing trends of the time, arrangements are stripped down to feature acoustic guitars and voices prominently. When drums do appear in the mix, they are unobtrusive and deployed to keep time. Tedious, lengthy, electric guitar-heavy workouts are avoided. The focus is rightly placed on the songs. All three composers brought only their very best to the table. Their transatlantic hybrid introduced a very unique harmonic style that inspired countless acts, setting the stage for what would be labeled as "soft rock" and permeating playlists of the early 70s as the singer-songwriter movement grabbed hold of the public imagination. They also became poster children for the Woodstock generation, due in large part to their coming out party at the festival mere months after CS&N was released. Imitators appeared, though no one managed to successfully duplicate what they were laying down. Elements of folk, pop, jazz, rock and everything in between were synthesized into something entirely fresh. Ultimately listenable, well crafted and still beguiling a half century on, this record is required listening for anyone who appreciates top class harmony singing and melody.

EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS IS NOWHERE at 50

Ladies and gentlemen, this LP is arguably where Neil Young discovered his true essence. Compared with some of the more elaborate arrangements found on his self titled, debut solo disc, Everybody Knows This is Nowhere is austere. All of the urgency, energy and inspiration of the musicians playing together in the studio is captured beautifully. David Briggs understood the value of transferring a "live off the floor" feel directly to tape, without endlessly revisiting the tracks to re-do parts in layers after the fact. No need to over-analyze. The minimalist path to recording would become a signature in the work that Neil would produce from this point forward.

CRAZY HORSE

Danny Whitten, Billy Talbot and Ralph Molina were primarily a vocal group (Danny and the Memories) in the mid-sixties, cut a single as The Psyrcle (produced by Sly Stone) and made little impression on the music scene of that era. All three picked up a musical instrument fairly late in the game. With some rudimentary instruction, they began to play together. Hooking up with other like-minded players, the Rockets were born. Endless jams evolved into shaping some of their own material, penned mainly by Whitten and Leon Whitsell. They managed to produce one, eponymously titled long player. Again, it was not a raging commercial success. At this point, Young stumbled upon them. He had escaped the wreckage of the Buffalo Springfield and had his own first disc in the can. Long story short, he poached Whitten, Talbot and Molina from the Rockets.

George Whitsell: "My understanding was Neil was gonna use the guys for a record and a quick tour, bring 'em back and help us produce the next Rockets album. It took me a year and a half to realize that my band had been taken."

This new aggregation was re-branded as Crazy Horse. Rehearsals began in earnest to work on music with their new boss. What they put to tape in a relatively short period of time would be a game changer.

THE ALBUM

"Cinnamon Girl" is the perfect opener, deploying a mesmerizing riff in D A D G B D tuning. It is a short blast of pure rock and roll, with a killer hook, dual lead vocals courtesy of Young and Whitten (who takes the high harmony) and culminates in a one note solo that you could frame. Like the best work of any writer, it is marked by brevity and ingenuity. Young lets out brief burst of noise from his Les Paul as a postscript, letting the last note decay in a haze of distortion. This shot across the bow would remain a staple of his set-lists for decades. It has aged beautifully, neatly avoiding any ties to the era from which it came.

So who is this girl? In typical Neil fashion, he provided a cryptic explanation in the liner notes to his Decade collection.

"Wrote this for a city girl on peeling pavement coming at me thru Phil Ochs eyes, playing finger cymbals. It was hard to explain to my wife."

Deftly switching gears, the title track follows with the groove downshifting to a laid back, country rock vibe. Great harmonies frame this fulsome tribute to getting back to a place where the pace of life is slower, free from hectic itineraries. Purposely open ended, the details of this idealized retreat are left to the imagination.

Everybody seems to wonder/What it's like down here...

Just as you get acquainted with the subtle charms of this tune, it fades out, leaving you wanting a little more. Definite highlight. Pulling a complete 180 degree turn, "Round and Round (It Won't Be Long)" is a simple vehicle for acoustic guitar. His keening tenor is joined here by Robin Lane, who admirably complements Young on this folky, minor key sad ballad. As he would later on with Linda Ronstadt and Nicolette Larson, bringing a female voice into the vocal arrangement brought another sonic dimension to the table. While it is a decent composition, this is one instance where cutting the running time down would have been beneficial. A minor complaint, though side one ends on both a hypnotic and gloriously sprawling note. "Down by the River" is a cornerstone piece, which would be taken well beyond the nine minute mark on stage by the Horse. The rhythm section hangs on tight while Whitten weaves simple but effective lines through Young's solos. There are no virtuoso heroics, so bass and drum fills are economic and as unobtrusive as possible. Briggs simply let the band play and pruned the end result of any glaring mistakes or uninspired sections. Another instant classic, without pretension.

Side two gets off to a slow start, flagging a bit in terms of intensity. "The Losing End" (When You're On) is a serviceable, country flavored shit-kicker, though fairly non-descript. "Running Dry (Requiem for the Rockets) is a dirge, salvaged only by the outstanding violin improvisation by...wait for it...former Rocket, Bobby Notkoff. The closer snaps everything back into sharp focus. "Cowgirl in the Sand" is the majestic, long form companion to "Down By the River", yet manages to hit harder due to some truly unhinged fret-bombing from Mr. Young. Sporting a short, brooding intro, the lyric is unfathomable with a turnaround that is nothing short of breathtaking. Just to illustrate how strong this melody is, have a listen to the acoustic version found on Four Way Street, which documents the CSNY live experience circa 1970. It works either way, though it's a blast to hear Crazy Horse support Neil as he coaxes some otherworldly licks from his axe. Slamming the door shut on this timeless disc, it completely overshadows the aforementioned selections that precede it on the second side.

While this stunning artistic statement did not fly up the charts when it was initially released back in '69, it sold respectably and made a lasting impression on his contemporaries. Listeners were put on notice. Young found both his aural template and sympathetic co-conspirators to help bring his unique vision to life. It is remarkable how fresh this music sounds a half century later. If you dig Uncle Neil, dust off your vinyl copy and have a loud 50th anniversary celebration.

NEIL HAMBURGER is... STILL DWELLING

Commitment to a persona, without so much as a wink, is commendable. Neil Hamburger is an inspired product from the fertile imagination of Gregg Turkington. On stage, he inhabits this character perfectly, often challenging his audience with material that is intentionally offensive, groan-worthy and insanely funny. Possessed of a razor sharp wit, he also expertly destroys would-be hecklers while moving, at a glacial pace, through each set up. Hamburger delivers all and sundry in a very distinctive voice, which he deploys on his latest recording, Still Dwelling. For the uninitiated, Turkington steps up to the mic, singing as Neil Hamburger on all twelve tracks. This is not an easy task, though he makes it seem effortless. For the prospective listener, do keep this in mind when you delve into this very fine disc.

Featuring an impressive list of guest contributors, meticulous production, arrangements and impeccable playing, you will be drawn in by the lush soundscape that lifts every song. The choice of covers had to have been an assiduous process as each selection takes you on both a genre and era-hopping journey. Two original compositions ("The Luckiest Man in the Room" and the closer, "Little Love Cup"), co-written by Turkington and his long-time collaborator Erik Paparozzi, round out the set.

Special mention must be made of the masterful job that Erik Paparozzi does in wearing multiple hats as producer/ arranger/multi-instrumentalist. Assuming the roles of Phil Spector, Brian Wilson and one-man Wrecking Crew (pun intended), he raises the ghost of those legendary recordings that came out of Gold Star and Sunset Sound in the sixties. What is most impressive, is that he did not have the luxury of sitting behind the glass at the board with a crack team of session players ready to do his bidding. He alone lays down all of the bed tracks and painstakingly overdubs a laundry list of additional instrumentation. Deserving of every superlative, this is genius level work and the main reason why the end product has such a warm, cohesive sound.

"Backwards Traveler", which originally featured on Wings' London Town LP, is a clever way to open the proceedings as it sets the tone for the trip back in time that you are about to take. Different from McCartney's arrangement, taken at a faster pace and wisely opting to drop the transition into "Cuff Link", it gives Hamburger a flashy vehicle to establish himself as master of ceremonies.

Highlights abound, though "Everything's Alright" takes things to yet another level of excellence. In addition to the aforementioned exquisite musical underpinnings, Jack Black (as Judas) and Mike Patton (as Jesus) lend their vocal talents to the mix. Their voices bring a sense of balance to this stunning, over the top slice of musical theatre. Former touring keyboardist for the Who, John Bundrick ("Rabbit" to his friends) makes the first of his four contributions, shining brightly with his nimble work on the 88s. Andrew Lloyd Webber himself would surely approve.

Paul Simon's "Homeward Bound" has been covered before, notably by Glen Campbell on his 1967 album, By the Time I Get to Phoenix. His rendition is earnest and smothered in strings. Flipping the script, it is arranged here as a country vehicle. Hamburger brings a genuine a road-weary feel, audibly sighing at times while half-speaking the lyrics, with which he takes a couple of pointed liberties. ("On a tour of one night stands/my suitcase and my jokes in hand" and "Tonight I'll tell my gags again"). Those dusty, maudlin ballads where the narrator spins a deliberately sad tale with a cast of thousands wailing away on backing vocals are parodied here in grand style.

A deep sense of pathos is conveyed convincingly on "Standing on the Corner". Where the original was jaunty, this version has you wondering why the protagonist seems so morose. Key to the desultory atmosphere is the brilliant string arrangement, courtesy of Petra Hayden. Minor key sad, you almost forget about the objectifying nature of the lyrics until the truly creepy, half-whispered delivery of the line, "Brother you can't go to jail for what you're thinking". Imaginatively reinvented, the whole thing works like a Swiss watch. The back nine of Still Dwelling continues with some very pleasant surprises. "Crazy On You" has to be heard to be believed. A galloping drum pattern is interpolated by short breakdowns, with sweeping orchestration (handled by "Rabbit") and choral backing. The coral sitar substituting for the guitar solo is particularly inspired. You can almost picture Hamburger, comb-over and bow tie askew, prodding his finger wildly at those whom he vows to unload on.

Gonna go crazy on you and you and YOU!!

Further ramping up the derangement factor, he also delivers a truly unhinged vocal take on "World Without Love". Gives fresh perspective to that opening line.

Please lock me away

The grand slam moment in this highly entertaining program is the marriage of the Midnight Cowboy Theme with John Lennon's "Isolation". After hearing this beautifully executed piece, you may even be moved to do an A/B comparison with "Let's Go Away for Awhile" from Pet Sounds. Why? Not because the melodies are anything alike, but rather that this is the vibe that radiates from the speaker grills as the music washes over you. It is a very high complement to all involved that this feel is captured perfectly. It isn't a stretch to imagine this wafting from dashboard of a 1967 GTO convertible, racing along the Pacific Coast Highway at sunset.

Closing out on an unexpectedly touching note, "Little Love Cup" offers a tender message to be good to one another.

You'll never be lonely, if love everybody you know.

Signing off with a touch of show-biz schmaltz, the mantra that you're left with is concise: No one loves a hater.

This extremely fun journey through the past is quite clever with nuances that reveal themselves upon each new spin. Love and loss through the lens of truly talented people who have a deep understanding of music history combined with a subversive sense of humor. I would highly recommend that you seek out a vinyl copy of Still Dwelling as this format will allow you to take in every note as it was intended to be heard. Support the artist and grab this for yourself right here

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO LUKE

Steve Lukather, top class musician and songwriter, has a compelling story. The Gospel According to Luke has been out for a couple of years as of this writing, though this is a call to all who have not yet picked it up to do so immediately.

Shame on me for being late to the party

Having devoured countless rock memoirs, I can easily name this book as being three summers ahead of all competition.

Bar none.

Lukather's recollections are unflinching, inspiring and infused with wit. In part, this reads as a passionate love letter to those gifted individuals who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to create the soundtrack of the 20th century and beyond. The players that comprised The Wrecking Crew are deservedly given high praise. They were the gold standard in terms of their craft, setting the stage for the next generation of brilliant, studio session teams that Steve (and his band mates) became an integral part of. The reader is ushered into a world where prodigiously talented human beings were called upon to shape arrangements, turn slight ideas into number one hits and do it all in the least amount of takes.

The brotherhood that led to the creative, multi-platinum selling entity of Toto is examined in unvarnished detail. Rightly setting the record straight about their accomplishments and taking humorous shots at the snobbery of rock critics of that era, you also get an unexpected tug on the heartstrings in his touching portrayal of those genius band members who have since left the material world. Wildly funny tales from the road sit comfortably next to group drama, triumph and loss. It is a page-turning ride that does not let up for a moment. Nor does the author shy away from personal low points. Indulgences in substances, those long nights of work in headphones or away on tour take a toll on families. All is addressed with class and grace.

Name-checking thousands of classic records that he's been a part of is but one layer of the multi-faceted individual who generously shares his life experiences in this tome. Possessed of a relentless work ethic, confidence and guided by a vision that was shaped at the tender age of six while watching the US television debut of four gents from Liverpool, "Luke" reminds you that anything is possible with a mix of timing, perseverance and sheer ability. Happily, there are more chapters currently being written.

Order yourself a copy here and enjoy for yourself. Well worth the investment and ultimately re-readable, it's "a great hang" with a legend.

NAZZ NAZZ is 50

When it came time to record their second album, Nazz really had their act together.

All members were apple-cheeked, talented and barely into their twenties. Todd Rundgren provided strong songs, was de facto producer/arranger and burned up the frets with his lead playing. Robert "Stewkey" Antoni handled lead vocals and keyboards like a seasoned pro, with supporting harmonies from his band mates. Carson Van Osten approached the bass with the chops of Jack Bruce while drummer Thom Mooney flew across the kit like a caffeinated Keith Moon.

This mesmerizing set was released 50 years ago today.

Heralded by a manic snare drum build-up, with instrumental swells accented by a crisp bell, the lads forcefully kick down the door on "Forget All About It". Transitions happen at lightning speed, with 180 degree swings from the verse to the hooky chorus. The intro passage reappears briefly (a nod to Cream's "White Room") before the quick, stinging solo from Rundgren. The quiet, keyboard-centric breakdown is a masterstroke. Van Osten excels, with roller-coaster bass runs throughout. All of this action is packed into three and a half minutes.

If you haven't got time to rest, then take the record off now

"Not Wrong Long" follows. Short and sweet with piano and organ sitting prominently together in the mix, there is a hint of Big Pink era Band here, if only in feel. Pulled from the pack as the taster single this one (surprisingly) didn't score on the charts at the time, though it is more than worthy.

Ride my chariot, baby!

Keeping the energy high, "Rain Rider" is another stunner with great harmonies. Highlighted by Antoni's dexterous work on keys, the performance is tight and punchy. The first side then takes a detour down a softer alley. "Gonna Cry Today" points toward the solo work that Rundgren would soon be indulging in and wouldn't sound out of place on Something/Anything?. Out of left field is the best descriptor for the multi-part "Meridian Leeward", with quirky lyrics, complexity in arrangement and a creepy vibe. Must be heard to be believed, though it is fantastic as it is strange. The closer to the first half of the program features Mooney inserting short bursts of solo fills, at dentist drill speed, on the proto-metal "Under the Ice". These guys were an exceptionally tight band and they pull out all of the stops in flame-thrower fashion. This should have been sequenced as the last track, as it kills everything that comes after.

Which brings us to the second side. Solid, blues inflected rock sums up "Hang On Paul", "Kiddie Boy" and "Featherbedding Lover". All have requisite gunslinger solos and showcase the players well, though they lack the innovation of their predecessors. Rumor has it that Rundgren was pushing for this to be a double album, including more esoteric compositions in which he took inspiration from the work of Laura Nyro. His colleagues and the record company disagreed, choosing to boil the sessions down to a single disc. This would lead to his departure shortly after Nazz Nazz was issued. Coincidentally, the compromise may well have been the inclusion of the final two cuts. "Letters Don't Count" is as beautiful as it is concise. Closing in grand style is the sprawling, "A Beautiful Song", which clocks in at nearly twelve minutes and veers from instrumental riff-fest to a soft, harmony driven section before bowing out on an "everything WITH the kitchen sink" ending. If you listen closely, Todd even provides Pink Floyd with a guitar figure that they would deploy a decade later, midway through "Hey You". Wrapping up on a majestic note, this would, sadly, mark the end of their activity as a group. 1971 saw the record label put out Nazz III. Comprised entirely of the songs recorded during sessions for Nazz Nazz (but excised from the LP), it was merely a postscript as opposed to a new project.

What happened?

As mentioned earlier, their chief songwriter bailed out. The resulting album, fine as it is, didn't find the massive audience that it was rightly deserving of. Whether it was the lack of a hit single, failure on the part of the record company to properly promote Nazz Nazz or a low band profile, with Rundgren gone all of these factors would be moot.

The great shame in all of this is unfulfilled promise. Production standards were top class, the songwriting and playing first rate. In an alternate reality, this compelling work should have struck gold and allowed for at least another recording by the quartet. Every bit the equal of the work that was being turned out by their contemporaries, Nazz Nazz should be treated to a 50th anniversary repackaging, with bonus cuts and liner notes that loudly sing the praises of this underappreciated gem. Spinning this now, it's remarkable to hear how fresh it sounds. All a testament to the wizard and true star behind the board. For those who are already initiated, you get it. If you aren't acquainted with Nazz Nazz, seek out a vinyl copy and crank it up.

VAN HALEN II AT 40

Sophomore Album Syndrome is one of those overused descriptors that those who opine on rock music tend to lean on when tasked with evaluating the much anticipated follow up release from artists who knocked it out of the park with their debut. Upon first spin, the prospective listener may feel that Van Halen II is a bit more restrained in tone when compared to the heart-pounding pyrotechnics that poured from the speaker grills throughout their first effort. Further investigation reveals a concise, impeccably rendered set with subtle charms sprinkled amongst the heavier fare.

Fresh off their first world tour, the musicians were in top form when they trooped into the studio to commit these songs to tape. Completed in a mere three weeks, much of what you hear is the result of first-take magic, without overthinking. That spontaneity is what makes these tracks sound so compelling forty years on.

Easing into side one, "You're No Good" kicks off on an understated note. As the lone cover tune here it is a far cry from the ostentatious opener that "Running With the Devil" provided on Van Halen. A bold move in that they don't attempt to tear your head off from the drop of the needle, yet it really doesn't feel as if the players are fully into this one. Far more successful is "Dance the Night Away" which proves to be melodic, catchy and reveals them to be adept at turning out a perfect pop single without a hint of contrivance. It sounds as if it could have been recorded last week and made a stuck landing on radio playlists. Hard rock swagger with a twist of fun returns with the scorching intro of "Somebody Get Me a Doctor". This one bears all of the hallmarks of "live off the floor" excitement, with Alex Van Halen putting on a masterclass in precision playing. Listen to his ride cymbal work during Ed's solo. Roth rides the wave with a wink and a gun delivery, brilliantly supported by the harmony vocals of Michael Anthony. The laughs continue with "Bottom's Up" and that vocal breakdown where the lads get a case of the giggles on the mic. Anthony pulls off some tasty jazz chops on "Outta Love Again", whereas the Van Halen brothers simply shred and burn right into the run out grooves. Flipping over to the second side, "Light Up the Sky" and "DOA" offer hyper-adrenalized riffing that would make any metal head eternally happy. Multi-faceted in their approach, there is something for everyone in this action packed thirty minutes and change.

The biggest knuckle ball delivered on VH II? Lasting a scant sixty seconds, "Spanish Fly" offers tapped harmonics with a roller coaster run up and down the fret board of Eddie’s Ovation nylon-stringed guitar. All of the doubters who wrote off his finger tapping technique as the product of stomp-box manipulation and studio trickery were silenced in one fell swoop by this stunning display of virtuosity.

Take that!

Similarly, the crystal-clear, water droplet harmonics that herald "Women in Love" are sonic perfection. If asked to summarize the genius of EVH in a quick clip, this is exactly what I would queue up. No exceptions.

Closing strong with the groovy "Beautiful Girls", you've got a drink in your hand, toes in the sand and Van Halen II cranked. What more could you ask for?

ZZ TOP's FIRST ALBUM

Long before Billy Gibbons and Dusty Hill launched a personal campaign to bring down the Gillette Corporation, they, along with drummer Frank Beard, recorded their debut LP and unleashed it on an unsuspecting public in early 1971. The Texan trio emerged fully formed from their chrysalis, with great tunes, sturdy chops, sexually charged lyrical subject matter and a healthy sense of humor all blended effortlessly in a hypnotizing boogie. The overriding theme here is blues, though they wisely don't stretch the material into the outer limits of tedium, opting instead for concise, punchy arrangements that never overstay their welcome.

The concept of the power trio was honed to perfection in the sixties with Cream and The Jimi Hendrix Experience in the vanguard of what could be accomplished with a dash of signal phase distortion, talent and the will to take Chicago blues to places that it had never been before. In the case of UK based musicians, they were besotted worshippers of BB King, Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon and Howlin' Wolf (to name a few). These legends were unfairly underappreciated in their own country, though the music that they telegraphed across the pond was welcomed warmly by English musicians. They brought this sound back to its birthplace, reminding listeners of the great treasures that they were ignoring in their own back yard. Curiously, ZZ Top felt the same indifference toward their inaugural efforts back in the USA.

London Records to the rescue.

Yet again, the reps from this British label were immediately hip to what they heard and signed the band to a deal. Gibbons and team did not disappoint. Don't buy the line about the group lacking polish here or requiring more time to get their act together. They were already bad-ass. Audiences would eventually catch up and propel them nationwide.

Clocking in at a mere 35 minutes, this platter is heavy on groove, beautiful guitar tone and every note is delivered with authority. Kudos to producer Bill Ham for capturing the warmth of these performances directly, allowing the personalities of each player to shine in a very simple mix. He snags co-writing credits on a few tracks in the bargain.

Right out of the gate, "(Somebody Else Been)Shaking Your Tree" grabs you with a harmony laden hook, complemented by the sweet strains of pedal-steel. Gibbons soulful vocal gives way to a brief face-melter and things wrap up under three minutes. It's a model of economy and surprisingly pop oriented. "Brown Sugar" follows, throwing a 180 degree change-up with a solo intro that delves deep into the blues. Gibbons provides a drop dead imitation of the subtle feedback that Hendrix used to ease into "Foxey Lady". Before you can catch your breath, Hill and Beard kick in hard and make you forget all about the Stones song of the same name. The lads got the jump on Mick and company by a few months in terms of using the title, though the lyrics are far less subtle. Speaking of Jimi, he very generously took Gibbons and his old aggregation (The Moving Sidewalks) out on tour as an opening act in 1968. Billy has spoken in glowing terms in interviews about how Hendrix got the sonic results he wanted out of his gear. One of his tricks in achieving a particular tone was to remove the scratch plate from his Stratocaster so that he could manipulate the toggle switch to stay put in five positions instead of three. This opened a whole new avenue of tonal control, which wasn't lost on his young protégée. The tasty sounds that Gibbons coaxes from his axe on these tracks shows how much he learned from the master and how expertly he incorporated these important lessons into his own style.

Overall, this set is pretty spotless. They prefigure just about every rock ballad that Lynyrd Skynyrd would commit to tape with "Old Man" and provide highlight reel fodder at every turn ("Just Got Back From Baby's", "Squank" and the closer, "Backdoor Love Affair"). Particularly impressive is how they get maximum return out of simple, rotating riffs while subtly deploying shifting time signatures to showcase Gibbons' nimble fingers ("Going Down to Mexico") before returning to the main motif. In the hands of lesser musicians, playing straight, 12 bar can be a stultifying experience for those who are subjected to it. By contrast, Gibbons, Hill and Beard created pure joy in the room, with nary a wasted note to be found. That chemistry is real and rare. While none of these selections found their way onto radio playlists or greatest hits packages, all of the cuts retain a freshness that doesn't pin them down to any era.

Eternal shelf life...

POSTSCRIPT

Back in the mists of the early 80's, I had a pretty magical introduction to this very fine debut. Eliminator was all over radio and MTV at this point in time. An older friend, who turned me on to a great deal of excellent music, had agreed to give me a lift to join some friends at a party in "the city". It was winter, roads were dodgy and the drive from our rural community took longer than usual. Taking my place in the passenger seat, he handed me a lit joint and popped a cassette into the deck. For the next half hour, I was completely mesmerized by the slippery rhythms and guitar wizardry that emanated from the speakers. There was no need for conversation. 15 year old mind was blown. At my request, he made a copy that would be virtually worn out from nightly listening in headphones. Eventually, I hunted down the vinyl pressing that is with me to this day. Impossible to put a price tag on that type of gift.

WARNING

Following the massive success of Eliminator, a decision was made to remix their first six releases in an attempt to give these discs a contemporary feel. The results were disastrous, with drums that sounded as if they had been recorded in an airplane hangar and guitars that were pretty much neutered in the process. Do yourself a favor: find an original copy of ZZ Top's First Album on vinyl and avoid the sonically butchered version.

Accept no substitutes.

MAKING MOVIES

Truly fitting that Mark Knopfler would soon branch out into writing film soundtracks, as his compositional approach on Making Movies successfully completes a transition from small screen vignettes to full blown Cinemascope. He had hinted at these abilities with "Sultans of Swing". You can see the faces of the weary pros onstage in the club, playing because of a long standing passion, the dismissive kids in the crowd who don't have the capacity to embrace or understand the music. There is a bit of backstory on the musicians, though the focus is on Knopfler's dazzling technique as he peels off a number of monster solos. Kitchen sink drama with virtuoso chops.

With Dire Straits third outing the musicianship remains intact, while song craft and production values take a huge stride forward. Jimmy Iovine was brought in to to co-produce, who in turn coaxed E-Street Band keyboardist Roy Bittan to add his nimble fingers to the proceedings. The lyrical subject matter of all three tracks on side one deal with (loosely) love and disappointment. "Tunnel of Love" is a masterclass in how to build mood with a series of guitar breaks that set a bar and then vault over it effortlessly with each new passage. The outro salvos are as close to perfection as you can possibly achieve. Bittan finds space to weave in his parts, always complimenting and never distracting from the melody. Over eight minutes, Knopfler takes you on an emotional journey that ends in a gut-punch as the protagonist realizes, belatedly, what has actually been lost.

She took off a silver locket. She said remember me by this.
She put her hand in my pocket. I got a keepsake and a kiss.
And in the roar of dust and diesel I stood and watched her walk away.
I could have caught up with her easy enough, but something must have made me stay.

Utilizing the amusement park as a backdrop is inspired and as the piece downshifts, there is yet another veiled reference. The Spanish City in question is actually an English fairground in Whitley Bay.

And girl it looks so pretty to me, like it always did,
Like the Spanish City to me when we were kids.

There is a depth to the writing that allows the listener to easily get swept into the narrative, yet it doesn't cross the line into pathos. What comes next is the very clever "Romeo and Juliet", which outlines a relationship doomed by poor timing. Framing the overall storyline with regret over an inability to maintain what was initially a strong bond, the updated version of Shakespeare's star-crossed lovers suggests that the narrator was there in full support of "Juliet" as she aspired to make it in showbiz and was unceremoniously dropped as a partner when that dream was achieved.

Come up on different streets they both were streets of shame
Both dirty both mean yes and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real
How can you look at me as I was just another one of your deals?

One of his best songs, bar none. The stutter-stop "Skateaway" closes out an absolutely spotless 22 minutes of music. Nothing less than a crowning achievement in their recorded legacy.

There is also a second side.

Anticlimactic after being bowled over by what precedes it, the back nine of this remarkable LP is marred only by the closer ("Les Boys") which has no business sitting alongside the other material here. Apparently, they had "Twisting by the Pool" in the can at this point. It would have made a far better substitute. "Expresso Love" and "Solid Rock" are definite highlights of the pack, though both return the set to earth without compromising the high standard that makes this disc so compelling. I would rank it at the very top of their discography in terms of substance and sheer brilliance across the board. Brothers in Arms would be a commercial bonanza for the band a few years later, though this is Knopfler's finest hour. Spin it again, as it has aged beautifully with enough nuance to keep you coming back for repeated listens.

FORGOTTEN MUSIC: THUNDERCLAP NEWMAN

This subtle charmer of an LP is surprisingly solid, considering the mile-wide delta that separates the personalities of the group that were brought together to write and record it. John "Speedy" Keen, Andy Newman and Jimmy McCulloch formed the nucleus of this aggregation. Hollywood Dream features great melodies, strong performances from all involved and excellent fidelity. Pete Townshend was responsible for the fine production job, assembling the aforementioned players and handles all bass work on the record.

Quirky and catchy, "Hollywood #1" leads off with the author lamenting the bygone days of old Hollywood with Newman rolling over the 88s all on his lonesome in the outro, as if there was no space for his part within the body of the tune. "The Reason" follows, bringing another stellar outing from the musicians. McCulloch turns in a scorching, face melting solo (one of a few stunners that he contributes here) that raises the game several notches. Excitement pours from the speaker grills into the fade. Astounding work from a lad who was all of fifteen years old when he did these sessions.

Who aficionados take note: The arrangements on a number of tracks are redolent of the approach that Townshend took while composing the demos for Tommy (think "1921" and "Sally Simpson"). As principal author of the majority of the material, Keen's work bears a similar stamp of that of his former boss. This is a plus, though it doesn't detract from the unique songwriting vision that he brings to the table.

"Accidents" is the cornerstone piece of the pack. Wildly adventurous in the structure, this multi-part composition weds grim subject matter (the untimely ends of several children) with free form experimentation. These flights of fancy were born out of the revolution in sound that began to take root in the mid sixties. Casting off the conventions of 2-3 minute running time, whole sides of vinyl could be swallowed up by a single theme. Clocking in at nearly 10 minutes, this epic cut ends with a relentless mantra that takes you right to the run-out grooves.

Life's just a game, you fly a paper plane, there is no aim

Though it was an unlikely candidate for a single release, it was edited and duly issued as such. It failed to make an impression on the charts and works much better in all of its unexpurgated glory.

Highlights abound on this disc which includes an immaculate Dylan cover ("Open the Door, Homer") the instrumental title track (written by Jimmy and Jack McCulloch) and the closer, "Something in the Air" which had already scored them a number one in the UK in 1969.

Call out the instigators
Because there's something in the air
We've got to get together sooner or later
Because the revolution's here, and you know it's right

Known by contemporary audiences for the dead-on cover that Tom Petty recorded for his greatest hits compilation in the early 90s, it is a shame that the original doesn't get played on classic rock stations with the same frequency as other hits of that era. It is a superb song in every respect. With so much to commend it, it is surprising that Hollywood Dream was a commercial bust when it initially appeared in 1970. Keen's falsetto can be a bit overwhelming in large doses, yet that is the only area where potential points could get deducted. It has been stated that they may have waited a bit too long to deliver on the full-length project following the success of "Something in the Air", though 50 years on that's a moot point. Regrettably, this line up would not produce any further music together. MCA re-issued it with different cover art in 1973, though it did not stir any resurgence of interest in the band. This is the vinyl version that I own and am currently spinning. An original pressing will cost you up to 100 dollars or more.



Guaranteed that this unjustly forgotten gem is worth every penny that you'll spend to add it to your collection.

MINI REVIEW: DARK HORSE

George Harrison turned a corner with his third studio release. Featuring an array of session players, notably members of the LA Express, the result plays a lot better now than it did to those eagerly awaiting its arrival in the shops back on this date in 1974. While it is not the best LP in his discography (that honor typically goes to All Things Must Pass), it is quite worthy of investigation as he explores a few different sonic avenues. There is a looser feel to some of the tracks ("Hari's On Tour (Express)", "Maya Love") and the author isn't shy about chronicling some of the painful recent events that had cast a shadow upon his personal life. Substance abuse ("Simply Shady"), his marital breakdown/separation ("So Sad", the bizarre cover of and lyrical updates to "Bye Bye, Love") are laundered and left to freely twist in the breeze.

Despite the rough patch, a sense of humor remains. The title cut makes a number of amusing allusions to his status as the quiet, economy class former Fab who sneaks up to pull away from the others in field, running on a dark race course. It features some beautiful, Harrisonoid changes, with a jazzy arrangement lifted by the flute of Tom Scott. Definite highlight and deservedly got the nod as a single release. His voice was not in the best shape for these sessions, though the slight frog in the throat delivery comes very close to that of his old pal Eric Clapton on this one. This actually helps, rather than hinder, the end product. Soul informs the stunning "Far East Man", adding yet another dimension to the overall eclecticism of this disc. This was a co-write with fellow raver, Ron Wood and one that he hoped might pique the interest of Frank Sinatra in terms of having Ol' Blue Eyes cover it. He passed, though you should not as it ranks with "Dark Horse" and "Maya Love" as a standout here. The only real clunker is "Ding Dong, Ding Dong" which was intended to reap some airplay as a would-be seasonal favorite. Lavishly produced, it bombs the assignment due to Harrison's inability to provide a strong vocal performance. In the end, it should have been elbowed off of the completed project.

Why did this effort receive such a critical pasting when it first appeared?

Refusing to play to type, Harrison deliberately went in a 180 degree direction from his work up to that point. Delving into jazz, soul and taking a more spontaneous approach to his craft were bold moves. The record-buying masses aren't keen on change. George put his foot down on providing the musical comfort food that his Beatle-obsessed followers were craving and in doing so, created some very compelling soundscapes for Dark Horse. Listen with fresh ears to the closer ,"It is 'He' (Jai Sri Krishna)". Deeply introspective and exquisitely crafted, it is several summers ahead of what his contemporaries had on offer at that time. Ragged in places, though disarmingly honest overall, Dark Horse is a far better record than its detractors would have you believe. Spinning it again today has revealed further nuances that have only served to reinforce that opinion. Revisit your vinyl copy (if you have one) and hear for yourself.

THE KINKS ARE THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY AT 50

The songs that grace this high watermark in the Kinks discography are some of the finest that Ray Davies would ever submit for public consumption. High praise indeed as he was in the midst of an incredibly inspired composing run. "Sunny Afternoon", "Waterloo Sunset", "Autumn Almanac" and the brilliant Something Else by the Kinks LP had all showcased an embarrassment of riches in terms of pure quality.

In part, Village Green offers up a fond, poetic obituary for a fictional place in the distant past. The added bonus comes in the use of interesting stylistic, musical detours which maintain listener engagement throughout. This should have been a universal smash for the group. The release date would not be an auspicious one for the set. Falling on the same day as The White Album, the disc was overshadowed by this seismic event along with the offerings of other heavy hitters during this timeline (Beggars Banquet, Electric Ladyland had also hit the shops at this point). Lacking proper promotion (new albums weren't hyped half as much as they are today) and with the Kinks still banned from touring in the US, it sank commercially. Lyrical subject matter was well out of step with the psychedelic vibe that was prevalent at that time, which also didn't help matters.

"While everybody else thought that the hip thing to do was to drop acid, to do as many drugs as possible and listen to music in a coma, the Kinks were singing songs about lost friends, draught beer, motorbike riders, wicked witches and flying cats."

One additional wrench in the works was a decision to put out a different iteration of the disc for the European market. This version had 12 tracks, omitting "Last of the Steam-Powered Trains", "Big Sky", "Sitting by the Riverside", "Animal Farm" and "All of My Friends Were There" and adding "Mr. Songbird" and the excellent "Days", which had already scored in Britain as a single. The record company restored the aforementioned tunes (removing "Mr. Songbird" and "Days") for the more familiar 15 cut sequence that went out to residents of the US and UK.

Are you with me now?

THE ALBUM

Tinkling piano, underpinned by softly strummed acoustic guitars and a descending bass line introduce the title track. The Custard Pie Appreciation Consortium, the Sherlock Holmes English Speaking Vernacular, the Skyscraper Condemnation Affiliate-inventive playfulness wrapped in an engaging melody that starts you on a very English trip.

Fairly weighty thoughts, for a 24 year old, also shape "Do You Remember Walter?". The frustration felt by the inability to reconnect with a childhood friend who has succumbed to complacency is a universal subject. Jeff Lynne tipped his hat to it nearly a decade later in the opening of ELO's "Mr. Blue Sky" which matches the piano and drum intro exactly.

"Walter, you are just an echo of a world I knew so long ago
If you saw me now you wouldnt even know my name.
I bet youre fat and married and youre always home in bed by half-past eight.
And if I talked about the old times you'd get bored and you'd have nothing more to say."

Growing old wasn't a common theme in the music of the late 60's, though the first line of "Picture Book" suggests that you imagine yourself doing just that. Looking over your shoulder at the past, all the usual suspects show up while thumbing through an album of dusty photos. Davies was reportedly going through a patchy period in the mid sixties, suffering a depressive episode. Better spirits recovered, childhood memories of bed and breakfast, seaside vacations in "those days when you were happy, a long time ago" were channeled into his work.

"Big Sky" seems to be an impassive watcher of all that goes on below it, with lyrics that suggest an anti religious sentiment. ("Someday, we'll be free...") The band plays hard here (and on "Wicked Anabella"), without regressing to the sound of their early, almost punkish singles.

Music hall now made an appearance in certain arrangements, yet this would not figure as prominently in Davies’ playbook until the early to mid 70's. Proceedings do take a strange turn, at times. Noel Coward on acid fuels the vari-speeded "Sitting By the Riverside", though the full on psychedelic path is purposely avoided. Because of this, the band also fell out of sync with then current trends. Production values were not at the level of the Kinks' contemporaries, allowing distorted sounding drums, bass rumbles and guitar buzz to remain. Getting sounds to tape without overloading the tracks would have greatly enhanced the overall audio experience.

The material was strong enough to get by this fact, though it's a minor annoyance.

Let it be stated that though the majority of the compositional load fell on Ray, brother Dave contributed a lot in shaping the final product. His input is truly deserving of co-credit. Similarly, kudos are in order for the tastefully solid foundation work of Quaife and Mick Avory. They had stretched as a functioning unit, their touch turning far more subtle in the relatively short journey from the early, proto-metal blasts of pure riff-rock that brought them to prominence in 1964.

Village Green presents a kinder, gentler Kinks, if you will. All is viewed through the lens of a quasi-pastoral existence, "far away from the soot and noise of the city" where life is quiet.

"I tried to write about what I knew, and that was the neighbourhood I grew up in. All of those songs were inspired by characters who lived, probably, 100 yards away from me. But they also pick up on a kind of wistful and ironic facet of English culture. English people are a little bit wistful and mundane - and I like the people that have little quirks in their lives and low-achieving people. I think they're worth writing about. It's something to do with the English culture and dark humor and the way we look at the world."

Bassist Pete Quaife named "Animal Farm" as his favorite track saying that, "the song gave him shivers when he first heard Ray banging it out on piano." "Starstruck" continues on an ethereal path, with mellotron supporting the lyrical reading of an individual that gets caught up in fast living, chasing after a rock star. A promotional film was made for this one, the last featuring the original lineup.

Lovely sonic surprises crop up as the needle travels across the grooves. "Phenomenal Cat" musically echoes what Syd Barrett had been doing on Piper at the Gates of Dawn., with bizarre, sped up elfin voices unsettling the once upon a time, fairy story atmosphere "Monica", by contrast, slips into a latin jazz. Sarcastically funny, "People Take Pictures of Each Other" is a cruel version of picture book in which the author expresses his distaste both for being photographed and being stuck, sitting for hours perusing them.

"Don't show me no more, please!"

Completely deflating the yearning, nostalgic theme of the album, it employs a soundtrack flown in from a distant generation to completely kill all that came before. It is nothing less than a masterstroke of sequencing as the curtain drops.

My own trip into the past comes into play here. Being steered toward this record opened another important door in my musical education. Flashback to summer 1981: Twelve year old me is in a familiar place, flipping through the stacks of a local record store. An older man who took notice of the titles that I was looking at approached me.

You really like 60's music? Have you ever listened to the Kinks?

I really hadn't, except for "You Really Got Me".

He went on to explain why they were great and that "The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society" was the one to seek out. Prophetically, he also said that I should buy lots of Stones albums as they would probably be making records for another twenty years or so. Never did see that guy again, though he was very wise. It took some time to fully appreciate Ray Davies' genius, though his body of work puts him in the same class as the premier songwriters of the sixties. Should you should sell a family member or a kidney to get a copy of this album?

Definitely.

Concerning the low profile of this wonderful set, Ray himself once jokingly noted that, "Even the people who talk about Village Green probably haven't heard it."

EPILOGUE

Fortuitously, subsequent generations have been exposed to the magic of this timeless classic via some long overdue repackaging love. First came the 2004 deluxe edition, which shoveled up much of what was recorded during these sessions on three CDs, in better fidelity.



In grand celebration of its 50th birthday, the "Superdeluxe" package leaves no stone unturned, giving the Superfan 11 discs and a staggering 174 selections to become immersed in. Pop into this link for all of the details. Sadly, they don't make 'em like this anymore.

SYNCHRONICITY

Synchronicity – an acausal principle as a basis for the apparently random simultaneous occurrence of phenomena

The last recorded statement from this legendary trio manages to be exciting, dark, jarring, clever and accessible all at once. Neatly avoiding the aural traps that would forever freeze their contemporaries in time, Synchronicity plays as fresh today as it did upon its release. Far from radiating mindless good cheer, the subject matter ponders extinction, spiritual decay, betrayal and relationships in turmoil. All was expertly woven together by the principal author of this intriguing song cycle. Copeland and Summers each chipped in with one of their own compositions, supporting Sting's endeavors with their usual imaginative, impeccable instrumental magic.

Cigar to Hugh Padgham for a pristine production job. Listening now to my vinyl copy in awe.

Austerity in arrangement is the key to the joyous aural experience, allowing every snare hit, bass line and guitar figure to punch through spectacularly in the mix. The virtuosity of all three musicians is slightly muted in favor of subtlety. Copeland is most notably reserved on the second side of the disc, keeping time and adding flourishes where required. He is not filling every empty space with dexterous high-hat work or flying across the kit, yet when he does break out (the outro of "O My God", the entirety of Synchronicities I and II) it is electrifying. Summers puts on a masterclass in tasteful, atmospheric coloring, leaving no blemish on any track. The sounds that he coaxes from his guitar and accompanying effects deployed are always in service of the song. Special mention goes to the dazzling set of runs that he rolls across "Synchronicity II". He also raises the ghost of Plastic Ono Band with "Mother", which is bizarre and a step ahead of its time. The Mother Complex in waltz time, complete with primal screaming, also fits into the Jungian concepts that inform much of this LP, albeit unintentionally.

Without question, this is pretty much a Gordon Sumner showcase. His mindset going into the writing process was not a happy one. His marriage was on the rocks and relations with his bandmates were fractious, at best. All parties have expressed their opinions on the difficulties that clouded the sessions. For Sting, his creative outlet became a source of healing. Four singles hit commercial paydirt upon release, though by far the most successful was the "tune that shall not be named". It is subversive in tone, possessing dark undercurrents that are not the norm for a worldwide, number one smash hit. Deserving of all acclaim, its power lies in a direct simplicity that is difficult to achieve in songcraft.

Every cake you bake, every leg you break

There is a palpable tension that builds through side one of Synchronicity. Listeners are treated to abrupt, 180 degree turns as the change-ups are relentless, much to the credit of all involved in sequencing. The rush of images and aggressive playing of the opener dissolves into tribal, world beat ("Walking in Your Footsteps") and a sobering message about the fragility of existence. That paranoia creeps into "Miss Gradenko" which playfully examines forbidden love under the guise of a totalitarian regime and a feeling of impending disaster is what makes "Syncronicty II" so compelling even as of this writing. Long shadows are cast, though the melodies are brilliant. Sting's bassmanship is particularly sharp with sparkling lines underpinning both "O My God" and the aforementioned "Miss Gradenko". Side two provides a break from the claustrophobia-inducing tone that pervades the beginning of the set. Though the material is less experimental, it is minor-key morose in nature. Beautifully executed, "King of Pain" and "Wrapped Around Your Finger" manage to transcend the root core of hurt/betrayal that inspired both cuts. They are nothing less than triumphant highlights in a stacked deck. The moody closer ("Tea in the Sahara") ends on an anticlimactic, dour note. With an enchanting storyline that took a cue from The Sheltering Sky, the image of the beguiled sisters burning under the desert sun with nothing more than broken promises and cups filled with sand is grim.

This ambitious and smart offering is timeless, succeeding on every level. The men who created it were aware enough to know that they would not be able to carry on as they were. Sting had the vision, though it was unfair to assume that the massive talents of Summers and Copeland could be sublimated, relegating them to silent session players. To their credit as a team, they moved away from the reggae-fied sound that brought them to prominence and continued to stretch creatively. Synchronicity stands as their finest work and a fitting swansong for a group that accomplished a lot in a very short window of time.

SWEETHEART OF THE RODEO TURNS 50

Indulgence in genre hopping seems fairly commonplace in the 21st century, so most contemporary listeners greet these shifts by their favorite artists with a resigned shrug. In 1968, The Byrds full on swan dive into country music was widely viewed by their fans as sacrosanct. The band had flirted with this style on a handful of tracks spread over their previous five LPs, though they never fully committed to it. This type of musical cross-pollination wasn't entirely unprecedented at that time. Jerry Lee Lewis, Buffalo Springfield, Rick Nelson, Dylan and The Beatles all recorded material that bore the stamp of country-fried influences, yet stopped short of total immersion.

Prior to embarking on their path toward the Sweetheart sessions, all was not well with the Byrds. The recording of their last LP The Notorious Byrd Brothers saw the departure of David Crosby and Michael Clarke. The album itself was one of their best efforts. The group, on the other hand, was effectively gutted. Needing to replace the departed in order to play live, their first act was to bring in Kevin Kelley on drums. The trio played some small gigs but it soon became evident that they would need a fourth musician to properly flesh out their sound on stage.

Enter Gram Parsons

Though his tenure with the band was brief, Sweetheart of the Rodeo may not have happened if he had not come into their orbit. Whole books and articles have been devoted to this subject. In short, Parsons bonded with Hillman while kicking around some old country tunes together. Gram spelled out his plan to intertwine rock with country, something he had first attempted with the International Submarine Band record in 1967. Hillman was game. McGuinn took some convincing when the idea was initially floated to fully submit to the rustic charms of traditional roots music and head to Nashville to lay it all down. He acquiesced and they set to work, aided by session pros JayDee Maness on pedal steel, guitarist Clarence White, John Hartford (who handled banjo, fiddle, acoustic guitar) with Earl P. Ball and Barry Goldberg on piano. Clocking in at just over thirty minutes, the result was a model of concision, glorious harmony and impeccably rendered song craft. Curiously, this incarnation of the Byrds was also done by the time Sweetheart was released in late August. Commercial reception was chilly, though that is understandable considering the jarring 180 degree turn taken by the group. Rock journalism of the era was limited to paper based media. News related to the upcoming projects and plans of "your favorite artists" travelled far more slowly. Promotional ads were utilized by record labels, though in most cases, new releases appeared without months of aggressive marketing campaigns to precede them. The Byrds audience was not prepared for what they heard and were duly perplexed. Airplay was limited in terms of pop/rock radio. Country stations viewed the long-haired hippie boys' foray into their territory with suspicion and also opted not to take up the disc. The Outlaw movement was still in the future. Country music stars remained in their own camp with followers who didn't pay much attention to rock bands or the burgeoning counterculture. Delivering this magic record put them in the vanguard of a particular sound. They would have to wait patiently for the rest of the world to catch up.

THE ALBUM

Bookended by two Dylan compositions, “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” kicks off the proceedings in grand style. McGuinn renders the unfathomable lyric beautifully, with smooth pedal steel lines supporting the verses. This was one of many tunes that Bob worked on with The Band in the basement of Big Pink. Roger altered a line that Dylan playfully corrected him on when he re-recorded the tune for release on his second greatest hits album in 1971.

"Pack up your money, put up your tent, McGuinn."

Chris Hillman gets nominated next for one of the best lead vocal tracks in the pack. "I Am a Pilgrim" is an old Christian spiritual that dates back to the late 19th century, though its authorship is unknown. Hillman has no trace of affectation in his delivery, bringing home the lyric beautifully with a very even, natural tone. All three singers do a very earnest and admirable job throughout of occupying the space without ever sliding into hokey parody. Both cuts are standouts and were duly issued as singles, though neither selection caught fire on the charts.

There is a subversive genius at work in the arrangements here. The "country-rock" tag is actually a simplification of what is really happening under the surface. "You Don't Miss Your Water" is soulful, R & B in the hands of its writer (William Bell) yet is reworked to synthesize rock drumming, the mellow back-porch strains of pedal steel and iron clad harmonies that veer toward pastoral settings rather than the Stax sound. Similarly, this approach is taken with "One Hundred Years From Now" and the closer "Nothing Was Delivered". On the other side of the spectrum, you have Parsons clearly channeling George Jones on "You're Still On My Mind" as the narrator soaks up booze in a local watering hole to fill the void of the departure of an ex lover. "Life in Prison" is cut from the same cloth, retaining the uptempo honky tonk shuffle with despondent lyrical subject matter. Antithetical to the aforementioned hybrid selections, they provide a listening experience that has variance in theme. Don't be fooled by labels, as you really do hear a subtle, sonic shift in gears as the album progresses. Ranging from the dirt-under-the-nails folk of "Pretty Boy Floyd" to the unabashed "livin for the Lord" overtones of a Louvin Brothers classic ("The Christian Life") you also get the aching beauty of Parsons' ode to his teenage home in Greenville, South Carolina ("Hickory Wind"). The experience is rewarding in every aspect.

"One Hundred Years From Now" is sublime.

Returning to where they begin this set, Dylan's inscrutable “Nothing Was Delivered” wraps up Sweetheart with a combination of elements that make this LP so brilliant. Production, playing and singing are all equally fine with an oblique summary in the refrain:

“Nothing is better, nothing is best / Take care of yourself, get plenty of rest.”

Critical estimations from the era in which it appeared were actually pretty positive. There were dissenting opinions about the new direction, though to their credit, the band did not overplay their hand with their fans in presentation. They do not appear on the cover in ten gallon hats, soberly posing in the garb of the wild west amongst tumbleweeds. Presentation is as subtle as the musical content. No references are made to the political and social turbulence of the late sixties, which has allowed the disc to age gracefully. Outside of and a step ahead of its time, Sweetheart of the Rodeo has lived up to its reputation as an incredibly brave and influential work.

The following year, Hillman and Parsons would team up to form The Flying Burrito Brothers, while McGuinn recruited a whole new cast of players to forge ahead under the Byrds name. The country rock banner would be taken up by subsequent groups to far greater acclaim, though the architects did eventually get their due acknowledgment as true innovators.

McGuinn, Hillman, Marty Stuart and a crack band of pros are currently in the midst of a tour to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Sweetheart. Playing the album in its entirety, along with a mix of other classics, the dates are selling out quickly and the reviews have been glowing. Here's a taste of what to expect from these legendary musicians and upcoming dates as of this writing.




Sept. 9 Folly Theatre Kansas City, MO
Sept. 12 Historic Gillioz Theatre Springfield , MO
Sept. 17 Albany, NY Hart Theater @ The Egg
Sept. 18 Albany, NY Hart Theater @ The Egg [Sold Out]
Sept. 20 Hopewell, VA Beacon Theatre [Sold Out]
Sept. 23 New York, NY Town Hall
Sept. 24 New York, NY Town Hall [Sold Out]
Sept. 26 Boston, MA The Emerson Colonial Theatre
Oct. 1 Louisville, KY Brown Theatre
Oct. 3 Akron, OH Akron Civic
Oct. 8 Nashville, TN The Ryman Auditorium
Oct. 10 Roanoke, VA The Jefferson Center
Oct. 15 Durham Performing Arts Center Durham, NC
Oct. 21 Byers Theatre Atlanta, GA
Oct. 23 EKU Center For The Arts Richmond, KY
Oct. 30 Carnegie Music Hall Of Homestead Munhall, PA
Nov. 9 Majestic Theatre Dallas, TX
Nov. 10 Austin City Limits Live at The Moody Theater Austin, TX

TRAFALGAR

Inspired by the historic naval battle of 1805 that took place west of Cape Trafalgar at the mid-point of the Napoleonic wars, the Bee Gees ninth disc was not a conceptual piece that documented every aspect of the British defeat of the Franco-Spanish coalition. Aside from the cover artwork which featured a reprint of Pocock's painting (The Battle of Trafalgar) and an elaborate recreation of Lord Nelson's death on the inner sleeve, there is little reference to this historical event found in the music. For those who enjoy such trivia, the gatefold shot features Barry playing Admiral Nelson, surrounded by Robin, Maurice, their father Hugh Gibb, Geoff Bridgeford, and an unidentified man in the shadows.

Standing a few feet taller than everything else on this disc is the majestic "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart", which begins with Robin delivering his lines in a vulnerable, almost tentative fashion. Barry joins as the track builds toward the chorus, which has their pitch-perfect harmonies stacked against piano and understated strings. Their melodic sensibility here is balanced by dynamics which draw the listener closer. The full stop before the hook-line isn't anticipated, making that falsetto vocal change-up altogether more surprising. Achingly beautiful, with a universally understood refrain, the Gibbs were rewarded with a their first chart topping single. They run up another contender for stand out selection in the pack with "Israel", which has an ethereal overall feel complements of the orchestral touches and inventive bass work. Their estimable talents as singers lifts the material, though it would be fair to say that the mood here is reserved throughout. Upbeat fare, programmed to move the party to the dance floor, this is not. Primarily focused on song craft, great care is lavished upon every detail in production. Now afforded the luxury of using two-inch, 16-track master tape, this allowed for increased separation of instruments and voices, which inevitably made more refined stereo mixes possible.

Per usual, Maurice is a one-man instrumental army. He also takes (rare) lead vocals on both of his contributions ("It's Just the Way", Trafalgar"). One of the most curious tunes in the "back-nine" is "Don't Wanna Live Inside Myself" which has a verse whose melody is more than reminiscent of "Helpless" (CSNY) and then veers sharply toward "I Shall Be Released" in the approach to the chorus. They had been down this path before with "Marley Purt Drive" from Odessa (think "The Weight"). Subversive humor at work, no doubt. All three brothers could be quite funny in both live shows and interview situations, though that side of their personality was muted in their writing. Closing with the sweeping "Walking Back to Waterloo", Trafalgar ends on a dramatic and classy note. The prevailing tone is one of introspection, which positions this LP as a perfect accompaniment to twilight, adult beverages and headphones. The mix is sublime with enough subtlety to maintain interest. Hypnotic without being soporific, this set has aged remarkably well.

THE WHO LIVE AT THE FILLMORE EAST 1968

Long in circulation as a bootleg recording, the audio document of The Who laying waste to the stage of the Fillmore East in April 1968 caught the quartet in excellent form and fidelity. Tight from months of road work, their sets were no less than beautifully executed sonic assaults on the lucky crowds in attendance. Lauded as one of the greatest live rock bands of any era, the illicit issue of this material in the mid 70s only served to solidify such opinions.

This single, black market disc was duly redistributed over time in various formats, yet only told part of the story.

The April 5th and 6th shows were taped in their entirety, though the capture of the first night was botched and unsalvageable. Barring technical issues that obliterated large parts of "Substitute" and "Pictures of Lily", the second attempt was magic. The unofficial version that originally leaked out to collectors is truncated, however. "Relax" and "My Generation" both fade out prematurely, while the beginning of "A Quick One" is also unceremoniously cut, picking up the action with the "Ivor" sequence.

Enter Bob Pridden and Richard Whittaker

Tasked with dusting off the original four-track tapes and utilizing 21st century technology to mix them for proper release, they did a fantastic job. The performances are incandescent, showing a powerhouse band in a crucial phase of transition. Maximum R & B was abandoned at the side of their touring highway, growing smaller in the rearview mirror as the unique songwriting vision of Pete Townshend coalesced. Reconciling studio arrangements with the precision attack that the instrumentalists brought to their live work, the results remain astonishing a half century on.

PRELUDE

In the initial rush of what came to be known as the "British Invasion" in the early sixties, groups would generally have a half hour turn on stage after their opening acts. Front of house sound was treated as an afterthought as amplification was limited to what the players themselves had onstage. Vocals were run through columns that pointed toward the audience, monitors were non-existent and the brief was to turn up, play aggressively and shout to be heard over the crowd. This worked out fine for small clubs, though the ability to project the music to larger venues filled with screamers wasn't possible at that time. Bill Graham was one of the early champions of giving artists a proper platform to deliver their message. He viewed rock concerts as theatrical performances, thus the musicians he promoted were equipped with the best sound and lights available. Having hit on a winning formula in San Francisco with the Fillmore, he gambled on renovating an abandoned movie theater in New York City in 1965 and the Fillmore East showcased some of the greatest bands of that era.

Are we there yet?

Just about.

The Who had made their US debut roughly a year before, playing short sets in front of rotating crowds as part of a package gig (promoted by DJ Murray the K) in New York with Cream and a few other notable acts. Set length was 15 minutes. Constant touring followed with an appearance at the Monterey Pop Festival in June helping to raise their profile in the States. Between gigs they had to squeeze in session time to complete their inventive concept LP The Who Sell Out which was released at year end.

THE MONSTERS

Having put hundreds of hours into their craft, the beast that was Townshend, Daltrey, Entwistle and Moon now stretched their show well beyond a perfunctory turn of 30 minutes. The concept of extended jams were coming into vogue and "stacks" replaced the lone amplifier that hitherto had been the only source of noise for guitarists/bassists. The revolution of signal phase distortion raised the game, giving birth to ROCK and a genuinely mind-bending experience for concert goers.

"My Generation" swallows two full sides here, clocking in at 33 minutes. Kicking off with the stop/start motif, Entwistle solo bursts and key signature change toward the chaos that closes the studio recording, they take an abrupt detour into improvisational madness. The lads throw up a compelling wall of noise: Moon flailing around his kit as Townshend coaxes an array of sounds from his axe, while Entwistle solos as much as his counterpart on the four-string. They lose each other in the sonic hedge maze at times, though the germs of themes that would be integral to Tommy show up as they bomb the faithful back to the Stone Age with sheer intensity. The casual fan may only take one pass through this, yet it reveals them to be far heavier than their records belied up to that point in time. Similarly, "Relax" is a revelation extended out to nearly 12 minutes of psychedelic bliss, with a quick shot of "Day Tripper" thrown in for fun. Never in solidarity with the hippy bands that came out of California during this era, the Who made an exception in their approach with this deep cut from Sell Out. Special mention goes to their take on "A Quick One (While He's Away)". It weighs in as the third longest piece from the Fillmore gigs and was a genuine surprise. The ending still grants forgiveness to all but goes on for quite some time in the outro as Entwistle gives a mini-master class on how to work every inch of the fret-board. It is different from the arrangements they did at Leeds, on the BBC, Monterey Pop and even the superb take from the Rock and Roll Circus film.

There once was a note, LISTEN!

Pretty much everything etched into the grooves is a highlight reel. You get a spotless version of "Tattoo" and Townshend's offering to the American Cancer Society, "Little Billy", which went unused until it was pulled from mothballs for Odds and Sods in 1974. The scattershot drum pattern of "Happy Jack" hits a home run as does "I'm a Boy". The caffeinated, "run and gun" Eddie Cochran covers ("Summertime Blues", "C'mon Everybody") along with a few other selections from the vaults ("Fortune Teller", "Shakin' All Over") would remain in their set lists for another couple of years.

Switching to a gear that was hitherto unknown for them, the transitory period of their stage show from 1967 to 1970 wasn't well documented. This slab of brilliance fills in the gap, showing the pre-Tommy Who to be already one of the best in the business. An exciting release, Live at the Fillmore East 1968 is highly recommended. Best appreciated in vinyl format.

BEE GEES 1st

Supposing that this record was a room, then its contents would certainly bear the hallmark of opulence. Rare paintings adorning the walls, with furnishings and fixtures from an interior decorator's wet dream to complete the space. Cracks and blemishes? Sure, a few are present, yet the sheer brilliance of the cornerstone pieces divert your attention from any surface flaws. The brothers Gibb dipped their cups into a well of songwriting riches early on, always coming up with them filled to the brim. Bee Gees 1st was actually their third full length release, though it was the first to be issued internationally.

Truly fine it is.

Even a cursory listen will reveal that these lads possessed sharp melodic instincts, harmonic gifts and an intrinsic knowledge of song craft well beyond their years. To put things in perspective, while in the midst of writing and recording this material, Robin and Maurice were 17. Barry was the elder statesman at the tender age of 19.



This set appeared at the height of the Summer of Love, a window of time which saw an incredibly eclectic crop of musical styles unveiled to an unsuspecting public. The Beatles had recently set a very high bar with Sgt. Pepper in June, casting a daunting shadow over their contemporaries at that point. To their credit, the Bee Gees held their own, turning out high quality, easily assimilated work on this LP. While some content is redolent of the sonic template that the Fab Four had established on Revolver the previous year (which evolved exponentially on Pepper), they did have their own artistic voice. With Colin Petersen (drums) and Vince Melouney (guitar) on board as full fledged members, the quintet was also a legitimate performing entity. This lineup would stay intact until 1970.

HIGHLIGHTS

Percentage wise, exceptional songs are the rule here. No less than five tracks from this platter found their way onto their first hits compilation in 1969 (Best of Bee Gees). These selections all have a distinctive flavor, caressing the neural population in your auditory cortex in a manner that will not allow your brain to shake them easily. Catchy yet curiously minor key morose at their core, they played a major role in bringing the Gibbs to the attention of the masses.

"Holiday" sees Barry taking lead vocal honors to set things up ("Ooh, you're a holiday/such a holiday") with Robin's distinctive quaver taking over in short order (beginning with "It's something I thinks worthwhile"). They deliver a lyric that likens a romantic partner to a vacation or trip. Possessing a high haunt count, the melody grabs you immediately. Whether "the puppet makes you smile" or not isn't the point. When writing about love and relationships, they were deliberately vague in framing the narrative. In an excerpt from Daniel Rachel's fascinating book,The Art of Noise: Conversations with Great Songwriters, Robin explains the process:

"Holiday" was written on an autoharp...There have been songs called "Holiday" since, but we were probably the first group to write a song called "Holiday" about a relationship...Songwriting is not so much about the obvious; it's about going around the houses and looking at it from a different angle.

Hitting the top ten at that time in the singles sweepstakes, this one still resonates even a half century removed from that era.



Grim subject matter frames "New York Mining Disaster, 1941", yet they take the plight of those trapped by an underground collapse and turn it into a conversation. Following a very solemn intro, the music breaks out of its straight-jacket, building in intensity and speeding up in an unorthodox fashion.

Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?/ Do you know what it's like on the outside?/Don't go talking too loud you'll cause a landslide...

The orchestral arrangement is ideal with those iron clad harmonies tying it all together. Viewed through the Gibb's lens, there is no resolution, only resignation when it comes to the doomed crew, sealed in miles below the surface of the earth. Oddly enough, Rupert Holmes may have taken inspiration from this when he crafted "Timothy", which was a minor chart hit for The Buoys in 1971. In a "you-have-to-hear-this-to-believe-it" scenario, the protagonist is singing about being snagged in a mine cave-in with Joe and Tim. They are located and freed, though only two survive to tell the tale. The inference is that they resort to cannibalism, consuming Timothy to stay alive while awaiting rescue.

I digress

Moving to more conventional fare, "To Love Somebody" is a quintessential torch song that Barry draws every iota of raw emotion out of in his vocal. Achingly powerful in a visceral sense, a debt to the Motown sound is quite obvious in the arrangement. This one cuts to the chase beautifully, has been widely (deservedly) covered by other artists and boasts an incredible hook. Anyone who has been on the short side of love can relate. "I Can't See Nobody" emerges as its natural companion, with the refrain again bringing home a universal sentiment: love can blind you to all other available options. All four aforementioned compositions managed to grab the public imagination in a big way, despite having an underlying sadness about them. There is catharsis in suffering, though it helps to have such innovative soundscapes to soften the hard medicine in the messages.

Oh solo Dominique...

Maurice emerges as multi-instrumentalist extraordinaire in the unique, psychedelic and quite startling "Every Christian Lion Hearted Man Will Show You". Mixing Gregorian chant, mind bending mellotron and a good deal of confidence in pulling this one off, there is much to be commended in terms of its construction. Beautifully "out there", they never attempted anything even remotely like it again. An exercise in good intentions gone right, it remains "trippy" as of this writing.

THE REST

Circling back to my earlier comment about stylistic comparisons to that quartet from Liverpool, the Klaus Voormann designed cover art wasn't the only linkage to Revolver to be found here. "In My Own Time" runs uncomfortably close to the structure of "Taxman" with jagged, distorted down-strokes on rhythm guitar and McCartney's bass line showing up with little alteration. Drop-dead perfect emulation of John/Paul/George three-part harmony makes you forget about this and marvel at how dialed in the lads were as singers. Sharing DNA didn't hurt, either. The drawing room harpsichord that drives "Turn of the Century" nudges into Pepperland territory ("Fixing a Hole"), though they counter that by running the clock back to examine life through the eyes of those souls that witnessed the last gasp of the 1800s. "Craise Finton Kirk Royal Academy of Arts" is pure English musical hall, very much in the vein that Ray Davies was mining in his work with the Kinks as they turned away from riff-based rock in the mid-sixties. My personal favorite of the deep cuts is "Cucumber Castle". Brief with esoteric strings that serve to enhance the song, rather than smother it, the title would be recycled for a future project. It would represent a difficult chapter in their career that saw Robin leave the fold for a short time to embark on a solo venture. Happily, all differences would be patched up amicably. Flashing back to 1967, hard work and talent aligned perfectly to bring the first taste of fame to the Bee Gees.

Returning to my dog-eared vinyl copy to take in this gem was easy. Even the second tier tunes have merit and properly listening again after a long time away has renewed my appreciation for them as composers. When the band comes up in conversation, people tend to immediately flash on the trio as they appeared at the height of Disco-mania in the late 70s, when the Saturday Night Fever film soundtrack dominated radio playlists. Multi-faceted as writers, musicians and prodigiously talented singers, the ingenuity that fueled Bee Gees 1st was impressive, establishing them as a creative force a full decade prior to this. If it's not already part of your collection, grab it. One of their best records, bar none.