2006 ALBUM REVIEWS

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Archived Reviews


Jackie Edwards, I Feel So Bad: The Soul Recordings (Castle). In the annals of 1960s Jamaican music, Jackie Edwards was something of an anomaly. Like so many Jamaicans, he recorded for Island Records, and was based in Britain. In truth, however, his music was often far closer to soul than reggae or ska, though a little bit of influence from those forms could be detected even when he went in a decidedly soul direction. It was also his lot to be more known to history as the man who wrote the Spencer Davis Group's early hits than as a recording artist, though he did cut quite a few discs in the 1960s. The documentation on this 22-track collection isn't as thorough as it could be, but it seems that all of it was done between 1965-68 save for one 1971 song. And though none of them were hits, it proves Edwards to be a fine soul singer in his own right. He's also distinguished from much of his competition by his strong songwriting skills (most of the material here is his own) and a certain British soul-pop touch to the occasionally orchestrated production -- usually by Chris Blackwell and Spencer Davis/Rolling Stones/Traffic producer Jimmy Miller, working together and separately -- that helped differentiate it from much American soul product of the time. Setting it aside from much US soul, too, were some slight ska accents that lent his arrangements, delivery, and compositions a certain light romantic sweetness entirely different from that heard on records by Motown or Philadelphia soulsters. There are lots of fine tracks here that are little known to either reggae or soul fans, including his own versions of "Keep on Running" and "Somebody Help Me," which were chart-topping UK hits for the Spencer Davis Group (though it doesn't have his versions of two Spencer Davis songs on which he was the co-writer, "When I Get Home" and "Back into My Life Again"). Also dig his stomping rendition of "L-O-V-E," perhaps known more to British Invasion collectors as recorded by the British soul-rock group Simon Dupree & the Big Sound. Edwards recorded more material than what's here, of course, not all of it as soul-oriented. But it's a fine summation of the most accessible soul-slanted sides by this undervalued artist.

Marvin Gaye, The Real Thing in Performance 1964-1981 (Hip-O/Motown). Here's a DVD that gives the music to you straight, without a fuss, presenting 16 full-length performances by soul great Marvin Gaye, taken from film and television clips spanning 1964 to 1981. Many of the core classics from Gaye's hit repertoire are represented, including "I Heard It Through the Grapevine," "Ain't That Peculiar," "Let's Get It On," "What's Going On," "You're a Wonderful One," "Hitch Hike," "Pride and Joy," "Can I Get a Witness," and (as a duet with Tammi Terrell) "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." Interspersed between some of the songs are interview excerpts from television music and talk shows, and while these aren't so lengthy as to make this a documentary that could tell the story of Gaye's career on its own, they're entertaining and do shed some light on his music and life. If there's any drawback, it's that many of the clips are lip-synced, including nearly all of the ones from the '60s (which comprise about half of the material on the disc). Still, Gaye always looks and moves fine, and the first six clips (all from the mid-'60s) are enhanced by syncing the images to the original stereo master recordings. There's some unpredictable entertainment to be had on both the mimed and live clips, too, including a filmed-outdoors duet with Terrell in which you can see their breath (presumably to indicate they are on an appropriate peak to sing "Ain't No Mountain High Enough"); "I Heard It Through the Grapevine," sung to a different track than the studio version, with Gaye on piano; and a fully live 1972 performance of "What's Going On," from the obscure film Save the Children. And while few Gaye fans would count "A Funky Space Reincarnation" among his greatest songs, its 1979 promo film is certainly amusing for its sheer gaucheness, complete with Gaye's spangled maroon wardrobe, clouds of dry ice, and writhing barely-clothed women. Adding to this high-quality package is a 24-page booklet with an essay by top soul historian Rob Bowman, and a bonus feature that allows you to hear Gaye's a cappella vocal tracks for seven hits in isolation, synced to the corresponding film clip to aid watchability.

Dana Gillespie, Foolish Seasons (Rev-Ola). Although she would eventually become most known as a blues singer, at the outset of her recording career in the mid-to-late 1960s, Dana Gillespie flirted with pop-rock, folk-rock, and mildly psychedelic baroque pop. All of those styles can be heard on her obscure 1968 debut album, which oddly was issued in the US but not the UK, despite the heavily British-European cast to the production and arrangements. The melange of approaches makes for an indecisive direction and uneven quality in certain respects. Yet at the same time, it makes the record an undeniably interesting, at times even exhilarating, slice of eclectic late-'60s Swinging London-tinged pop. Very roughly speaking, Gillespie echoed the material and vocals of fellow British woman pop-rock singers such as Marianne Faithfull and Dusty Springfield at points, though her voice was at once both huskier/smokier than the young Faithfull's and gentler and whispery than Springfield's. The styles tried on for size include the breezy psych-pop of "You Just Gotta Know My Mind," a Donovan composition that Donovan himself never recorded; the very Faithfull-esque (in the good sense) wispy folk-pop of "Tears in My Eyes" and Gillespie's own composition "Foolish Seasons"; the sunshine pop-influenced orchestral arrangements of "Life Is Short" and "London Social Degree," both penned by cult British pop-rocker Billy Nicholls; the gothic Europop of "Souvenirs of Stefan," which vaguely recalls the likes of Francoise Hardy; and the downright catchy, sexy mod pop of "No! No! No!" Further unexpected turns are taken with the almost pre-goth blues-pop death wish "Dead," and the haunting, eccentric cover of Richard Farina's "Hard Lovin' Loser." Sure, there are a couple of icky-sweet pop clunkers along the way (including Gillespie's sole other self-penned number on the album, "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not"). On the whole, though, it's an extremely likable (if somewhat stylistically confused) album, with nonstop unpredictably luscious and imaginative production. The UK 2006 CD reissue on Rev-Ola has thorough historical liner notes, including many quotes from Gillespie herself.

George Harrison, The Concert for Bangladesh [DVD] (Apple). The film made of the August 1, 1971 concerts in New York's Madison Square Garden to raise relief funds for Bangladesh was given a deluxe reissue on this two-disc DVD, one disc of which contains the original film, the other offering extra features. Organized by George Harrison and also featuring spots by Bob Dylan, Billy Preston, Leon Russell, and Ravi Shankar, the concert itself might not quite match the expectations some fans might have for such a star-studded lineup. The good-time rock-soul of Preston and Russell, though they were briefly hitmakers in the early 1970s, is on the slight side compared to Harrison and Dylan's music. In addition, the acoustic-based Dylan set is a little low-key; though he offers some of his top songs (including "Blowin' in the Wind," "Just Like a Woman," "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall"), the accompaniment seems tentative and under-rehearsed. Too, the onstage band is perhaps bigger than it needs to be, including not just Eric Clapton (who doesn't sing or perform any of his own material) and Ringo Starr, but numerous other guitarists, bassists, singers, and horn players, some of whom are basically swamped by the arrangements.

All that noted, there's still much to enjoy about this concert and film, particularly as it remains the best place to watch footage of George Harrison as a solo artist. While he's a bit nervous at times, he for the most part offers good versions of highlights from both his first solo album, All Things Must Pass ("My Sweet Lord," "Awaiting on You All," "Beware of Darkness"), and his Beatles-era compositions ("Something," "Here Comes the Sun," "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"). The large complement of gospel-soul-flavored backup singers adds different shades than are heard on the studio versions, and "Here Comes the Sun" is performed in a touching acoustic rendition (with Pete Ham of Badfinger on second guitar). Ravi Shankar opens the proceedings with more solemn Indian music that helps remind the audience about the cause the event raised money for, as does Harrison's closing performance of the non-LP single "Bangla Desh." The filming itself might be a little less sophisticated than the best rockumentaries of the era, but satisfactorily captures the onstage action and sense of occasion. The bonus disc offers worthwhile bonus items, including a 45-minute documentary on the concert, with interviews of some of the participants; smaller features on the making of the film and the album; and just a few previously unissued performances from the rehearsals, sound check and afternoon show, including Dylan's "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" and "If Not for You," along with a cover of Robert Johnson's "Come on in My Kitchen" by Harrison, Clapton, and Russell.

John Holt, I Can't Get You Off My Mind (Heartbeat). Although the phrase "18 Greatest Hits" appears as a subtitle on the cover, this by no means concentrates exclusively on Holt's most popular recordings; you won't find "Help Me Make It Through the Night" here. Rather, it focuses on the Clement Dodd-produced material he cut for Studio One in the late 1960s and the early 1970s. Not that there's anything wrong with such a compilation, as this period yielded some of Holt's most enduring recordings, whether alone or (as was the case for three of the tracks) with the Paragons. With most of the songwriting is credited to the team of Holt and Dodd (though there's a dandy cover of George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord"), it's a fine set of sweetly sung tunes from the time when rock steady was changing into early reggae music, sometimes moody ("Strange Things"), sometimes happy-go-lucky ("Happy Go Lucky Girl," natch), sometimes with early dubbish effects ("Change Your Style"), sometimes with echoes of Drifters-like soul ("Depth of Love"), sometimes even with light orchestration ("Tonight"). Two of the tracks ("Anywhere" and "My Sweet Lord") make their CD debut here, while seven others are, in the words of the track listing, an "original stereo mix previously unreleased on CD." Its appeal isn't limited to the collectors who care about such distinctions, however; it's top-notch, varied early reggae, and more consistent than the usual single-artist anthology of the genre.

Alexis Korner, Sky High [Bonus Tracks] (Castle). Sky High was a typically uneven Alexis Korner album, on several accounts. First, the literally sky high level of talent among the backup musicians -- including future Pentangle rhythm section Danny Thompson (bass) and Terry Cox (drums), as well as Duffy Power on harmonica -- was not matched to universally high-caliber material. Too, while admirably eclectic, the array of styles on display -- from down'n'dirty R&B to acoustic blues, out-there jazz, and almost traditional jazz-blues -- seemed to indicate as much directionless as adventurousness. There was, too, no getting around Korner's severe limitations as a lead vocalist, a chore he undertook for five of the album's fifteen tracks. Fortunately, first-class blues-rock vocalist Duffy Power took lead vocals on four of the other tracks, and for that reason alone, Sky High is a worthwhile release. "Long Black Train" (which Power and Korner co-wrote) is a genuine lost British R&B gem, and the very best track Korner cut in that style, with its ominously echoing guitar, pummeling rhythm, and Power-ful vocals and harmonica.

Sadly, nothing else on the record comes close to matching it, though the album's not without its merits. There are, to start with, those four other tracks with Power on lead vocal, which are respectable R&B, though none of them are nearly as good as "Long Black Train" (and one of them, "I'm So Glad (You're Mine)," would be recorded by Power in a better version under his own name). There's also a raucous cover of Charles Mingus' "Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting," though this and other jazz instrumentals on the record (including a horn section) are so different from the Power-led cuts that they could easily be mistaken for the work of a different band. The numbers on which Korner takes lead vocals, however, make one wish he'd had the humility and wisdom to let Power be the lead singer for most of the LP, though Alexis does okay with the nicely swinging jazz-blues tune "River's Invitation."  Too, the three Korner solo guitar instrumentals that end the album seem like slight afterthoughts.

The CD reissue of this rare album on Castle in 2006 improved it substantially with the addition of ten BBC recordings from 1965 and 1966, half of them previously unreleased. None of them feature Power (though all of them retain Thompson and Cox as the rhythm section), Korner handling the vocals on all of them except "I Got a Woman," which is sung by Herbie Goins. These BBC tracks also run the gamut of the blues and all of its jazz and R&B offshoots, including another Charles Mingus cover ("Oh Lord, Don't Let Them Drop That Atomic Bomb on Me," sung with particular hoarseness by Korner); shuffling Korner-penned jazz-blues instrumentals; a version of Herbie Hancock's famous "Watermelon Man" (with another wracked Korner vocal); Jimmy Smith's "Back at the Chicken Shack," with Brian Auger on organ; and a rather cool soul-jazz instrumental, "The Jailbird." While not great recordings in and of themselves (though the sound is very good), these too testify to Korner's versatility and a catholic taste that seemed to embrace jazz and R&B as heartily as purist blues.

John Lennon, The Dick Cavett Show: John & Yoko Collection [DVD] (Shout Factory). In September 1971 and May 1972, John Lennon and Yoko Ono appeared on three episodes of The Dick Cavett Show, talking about their music and lives. (To be technical, they only appeared on the program twice, but the 1971 interview was so long that it was used in two separate episodes.) This two-DVD, approximately three-and-a-half-hour set presents all three of the episodes in their entirety, even including Cavett's opening monologues and the other guests who appeared on the programs; nothing's missing, except the commercials. For Lennon fans, and for many general music and popular culture fans, these are unremittingly interesting, with Lennon and Ono discussing various aspects of their art, songs, records, experimental films (from which a few clips are shown), and social views. The Beatles are only touched upon at a few points, though John does make some general observations about the group and their breakup. While Cavett was not a rock music expert, he did set them at ease and draw out their chat in an informal manner that, certainly by the standards of talk show television, was intelligent and entertaining.

In the September 1971 segments, Lennon does far more talking than the much quieter Ono, coming across as a pretty likable, funny fellow who doesn't shoot as much venom here as he did at various other points of his solo career. Certainly the most interesting portion is the one in which the pair takes questions from the audience, with John delivering a very thorough, insightful answer as to how he wrote songs and how his composing method changed since the early days of the Beatles. As especially interesting points of trivia, he reveals regretting that he threw in a reference to Chairman Mao in "Revolution," worrying that it might prevent him from visiting China. He also names Frank Zappa and Dr. John as some of the musicians he was most enjoying listening to at the time, and expresses surprise that "Oh Yoko!" and "Imagine" are turning out to be the most popular tracks from his Imagine album.

Ono speaks more in the May 1972 segment, in part because much of that was devoted to her and Lennon explaining their search for Ono's daughter, Kyoko, in a custody battle with Yoko's ex-husband. This in turn was helping to lead to efforts to deport John from the U.S., which are also discussed (and which would turn into a battle lasting five years or so). In this episode (unlike the September 1971 programs, which were all talk), Lennon and Yoko also perform, using Elephant's Memory as the backing band. John sings "Woman Is the Nigger of the World," whose controversial title required Cavett (under network pressure) to insert a small introduction aimed at mollifying any viewers who might be offended. Yoko sings "We're All Water," which like "Woman Is the Nigger of the World" was bound for the ill-fated Some Time in New York City album.

For the record, these episodes also contain interviews with other guests who appeared on the programs, those being comedian/commercial producer Stan Freberg; actress Shirley MacLaine; and, as a far less recognizable name, Robert Citron, then director of the Smithsonian Institute's Center for Short-Lived Phenomena. Though not related to Lennon and Ono's work, those segments are actually pretty entertaining (even the Citron one), and you might as well watch them as long as you have these discs in the player. Rounding off a first-rate package are introductions specially recorded for this DVD by Cavett, shortly before its 2005 release; a 20-minute interview with Cavett about the Lennon-Ono programs; and a booklet with historical liner notes.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, Give Peace a Song [DVD] (Hip-O). The centerpiece of this DVD is a 45-minute program on John Lennon and Yoko Ono's famous Bed-In for peace at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal in May and June of 1969. Much of this footage has been seen, and much of the subject matter covered, in several previous Lennon/Ono documentaries, particularly John and Yoko's Year of Peace and Bed-In for Peace: All We Are Saying Is Give Peace a Chance. This nonetheless does a good, succinct job of explaining the essentials of the event, balanced between archive footage of John and Yoko in their hotel room and decades-later interviews with people who were there. Among those interviewed for the project, and usually offering quite interesting memories/comments, are Ono, comedian/folk singer Tommy Smothers, journalists and record company figures in attendance at the event (including a then-young fan who sneaked in with a fake press pass), Andre Perry (who helped produce the "Give Peace a Chance" single, recorded in the hotel room), and Pete Seeger (who wasn't at the Bed-In, but offers recollections of singing "Give Peace a Chance" to hundreds of thousands of Vietnam War protesters). The short segments on mediocre updated versions of "Give Peace a Chance" recorded in the 1990s and 2000s by other artists are unnecessary, and John and Yoko's Year of Peace (which focuses on their entire year of peace-related activities in Canada, not just the Montreal Bed-In) is actually a better documentary, if you can find it. Still, Give Peace a Song -- which was actually directed and produced for the CBC by the same team that did John and Yoko's Year of Peace -- is educational and enjoyable on its own terms. Its value is greatly enhanced by about 35 minutes of interesting bonus features, including CBC television interviews and press conferences conducted with Lennon and Ono in December 1969; bonus interview material with Perry and Smothers; and an interview with Petula Clark, who visited John and Yoko at the Bed-In. In one of the DVD's most amusing moments, Clark remembers Lennon's advice when she told him about audience hostility to the bilingual show she was presenting in Montreal at the time as follows: "Fuck 'em!"

John Mayall, Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton [UK Deluxe Edition] (Universal UK). The 40th anniversary deluxe edition of John Mayall's classic Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton album, issued in the UK in 2006, is a two-CD, 43-song affair, even though the original LP had just 12 tracks. While the many extras aren't nearly as essential as the original LP itself, this reissue neatly packages everything the Clapton lineup of the Bluesbreakers recorded, while still making the Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton album the centerpiece. Disc one presents both the mono and stereo mixes of the record, which was not just Mayall's best, but also a cornerstone of both British blues and blues-rock, as well as being the first to showcase Clapton's talents in full bloom (and in a purer blues context than anytime before or since). In common with many such mono-stereo packages for CD reissues, most listeners won't find the differences drastic, but sometimes they're noticeable -- in mono Mayall's vocal on "All Your Love" has a much hollower, echoing feel, and "Parchman Farm" has keyboards that are inaudible in the stereo mix (which, in turn, has a longer harmonica intro for the same song).

Of more value, at least as far as the extras go, is disc two, which presents no less than 19 tracks that the Clapton lineup recorded in 1965 and 1966 that didn't appear on the Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton album. This includes the 1965 "I'm Your Witch Doctor"/"Telephone Blues" single, the A-side of which is not only one of the Bluesbreakers' greatest recordings, but one of the great rock non-hit singles of the 1960s by anyone, with searing futuristic distorted guitar. Also on hand is the fine late-'65 soul-pop-flavored studio recording "On Top of the World," and the less impressive, more traditional blues of the obscure "Bernard Jenkins"/"Lonely Years" single. Then there are eight previously unreleased 1965-66 BBC recordings, only one of them ("Key to Love") of a song that appeared on the Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton record, the other tracks including radio versions of "I'm Your Witchdoctor," "On Top of the World," the early Mayall single "Crawling Up a Hill"/"Crocodile Walk," and three cool numbers the Bluesbreakers never put on their '60s studio records ("Cheating Woman," "Bye Bye Bird," and "Nowhere to Turn"). Rounding out the disc are the half-dozen '66 live recordings (with both Clapton and Jack Bruce in the band) that have appeared on compilations (five of them on Primal Solos, and the sixth, "They Call It Stormy Monday," on the Looking Back collection). The sound on the BBC cuts is decent, though the performances not as full and cutting as the Clapton lineup's studio work; the live material is in fuzzier sound, though listenable. Despite the uneven nature of the second disc, however, it's great to have all of this Mayall-Clapton material in one place, and impossible to imagine a more definitive collection of the Mayall-Clapton Bluesbreakers recordings.

John Mayall, John Mayall Plays John Mayall [UK Expanded Version] (Universal UK). John Mayall's debut album, recorded live in December 1964, is a little unjustly overlooked and overrated, as it was recorded shortly before the first of the famous guitarists schooled in the Bluesbreakers (Eric Clapton) joined the band. With Roger Dean on guitar (and the rhythm section who'd play on the Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton album, bassist John McVie and drummer Hughie Flint), it has more of a rock/R&B feel, rather like the early Rolling Stones, than the purer bluesier material Mayall would usually stick to in his subsequent recordings. The record doesn't suffer for this, however, moving along quite powerfully, and -- unusually for a British R&B/blues band of the time -- featuring almost nothing but original material, all penned by Mayall. Nigel Stranger's saxophone adds interesting touches to a few tracks, the songs are quite good, and while Dean's guitar and Mayall's vocals aren't on the same level as the best instrumentalists and singers in the British blues-rock movement, they're satisfactory. The 2006 UK expanded CD edition adds five enjoyable cuts that round up everything else recorded by the pre-Eric Clapton version of the Bluesbreakers, including the 1964 single "Crawling Up a Hill"/"Mr. James"; the early-1965 single "Crocodile Walk"/"Blues City Shakedown"; and the February 1965 outtake "My Baby Is Sweeter," which first showed up on the early-'70s British compilation Thru the Years. "Crawling Up a Hill" and "Crocodile Walk" also appear on the original John Mayall Plays John Mayall album in live performances, but the bonus track versions are entirely different studio recordings done for those non-LP singles, and are pretty good as well.

Ennio Morricone, Happening (El). The scanty liner notes of this compilation of cuts from 1968-1973 Ennio Morricone soundtracks (save a couple from 1977) rather misleadingly term it "a psychedelic montage." Much of this is not exactly psychedelic, at least if you think of Morricone psychedelia in terms of genuinely way-out tracks like "Il Giardino Delle Delizie" or the weirder moments of the Danger Diabolik soundtrack. It's still a satisfying collection of 25 tracks from Morricone's arguable prime, much of them not easy to come by on CD anthologies. And a lot of it is imaginatively strange, like the combination of tribal drums and church-from-hell organs on Burn's "Quemada Secondo from Quemada" and the fire-licking choral vocals of "Studi Per un Finale (Secondo)" from the same source. Some of the other stuff is more meditative and whimsically evocative, even occasionally suggestive of '60s swinging Europe lounge sounds—not that there's anything wrong with that, just that it's not quite as strikingly odd. Groovy go-go organ sounds, haunting wordless spectral vocals, cherry circus-like riffs, and weird dissonant blends of twangs and pops are also heard, so the "psychedelic" element is more in the kaleidoscopic range than in any unrelenting weirdness in the music itself. Stranger than all-get-out, though, is the nine-minute "Erotico Mistico" (from Maddalena), where funereal organ, a rolling drum pattern reminiscent of Ringo Starr's brief solo in the Beatles' "The End," and Gregorian male vocals back Edda Dell'Orso's extremely orgiastic, if soft and subtle, moans and sighs. It's the highlight of this anthology, recommended to those looking to deepen their Morricone collections, despite its wavering and uncertain focus.

Roy Orbison, In Dreams [DVD] (Legacy). Weaving together performance footage (spanning the early 1960s to the late 1980s) and interviews, this is a very good documentary of Roy Orbison, though not quite a definitive one. Clips of most of Orbison's most famous songs are here, including "Only the Lonely," "Running Scared," "Crying," "Dream Baby," "Oh, Pretty Woman," and "It's Over." Note that some of these clips are from the 1980s, not the time at which these songs were originally hits, though that time-lapse isn't as big an issue with Orbison as it would be with many artists, since he retained the quality and power of his voice even into his fifties. In the non-musical segments, Orbison is well represented by interviews from late in his life (with audio-only snippets occasionally overlaid over non-interview footage), coming across -- as you'd expect -- as a soft-spoken, humble man. Also interviewed are quite a wide assortment of associates (Fred Foster, who produced Orbison's greatest hits in the first half of the 1960s, being the most important) and fellow stars testifying to Orbison's influence, including Johnny Cash, Bruce Springsteen, the Bee Gees, Bill Wyman, Bono, and even film director David Lynch (whose use of "In Dreams" in Blue Velvet helped reignite interest in Orbison in the 1980s). It's not quite a thorough history of Roy's career; his wilderness years, from approximately the mid-1960s (when he left Monument Records, where he had his big hit run with Foster) to 1980, are barely examined. Too, his series of small-to-big comeback successes in the '80s (including his "That Lovin' You Feelin'" again duet with Emmylou Harris, the U2-penned "She's a Mystery to Me," and the Traveling Wilburys) are perhaps given more weight than they deserve. It's still a well-done overview, however, that gives a good account of both the man and his music.

The Paris Sisters, The Complete Phil Spector Sessions (Varese Sarabande). The Paris Sisters' career extended from the mid-1950s to the late 1960s, but they remain principally remembered for their brief association with Phil Spector, particularly the 1961 Top Five hit "I Love How You Love Me." Rather surprisingly, this compilation marks the first time all of their Spector-produced recordings have been gathered onto one CD. Granted, it's a slim body of work, comprising the A- and B-sides of five singles on the Gregmark label, including "I Love How You Love Me" and the Gerry Goffin-Carole King-penned Top Forty follow-up "He Knows I Love Him Too Much." (The eleventh and final track is merely a stereo version of "I Love How You Love Me.") Yet it's a significant one, not only in terms of Spector's career, but also on its own musical merits. The Paris Sisters might have been on the very most pop-oriented end of the early-'60s girl group sound, but they had a very appealing vocal style, particularly in the feathery, almost whispered enunciation of lead singer Priscilla Paris. Spector backed the trio with luscious, pillowy orchestration, and while the ballad-dominated material was rather reminiscent of the song with which Spector had scored his first hit (the Teddy Bears' "To Know Him Is to Love Him"), here he had the chance to embroider such tunes with far fuller arrangements. It's true the songs tended so far toward the sentimental that they often tread on the syrupy. But the production gave them a haunting, almost spooky air that definitely anticipated much of the flavor of the more strikingly innovative hits Spector produced slightly later for the Crystals, Ronettes, and Righteous Brothers. There's just one uptempo number (the B-side  "All Through the Night") on this historically important collection; otherwise it's behind-closed-doors music with a touch of the otherworldly.

Duffy Power, Vampers and Champers (RPM). This two-CD anthology falls somewhere between an expanded edition of Duffy Power's most notable album, Innovations, and a sort of best-of compilation of his most notable post-1964 material. The very Power fans most likely to buy this are likely to have much of it already, and for that reason, might be mildly disappointed. If you don't happen to have much or any Power yet, however, it's a largely excellent collection. Disc one features everything from Innovations, which though released in the early '70s contains 1965-67 recordings exclusively. These are among the finest obscure British blues-rock of the '60s, shaded with folk, soul, and jazz, the diverse tracks featuring support from a pre-fame John McLaughlin (who co-wrote some of the songs with Power), a pre-Cream Jack Bruce, and pre-Pentangle members Danny Thompson and Terry Cox. As a nice bonus, this disc adds two bonus tracks from the same era, the Power original "Little Girl" and a cover of Muddy Waters' "I Want You to Love Me" that (like one of Innovations' tracks, Waters' "Louisiana Blues") has some positively skin-crawling acoustic slide guitar.

Disc two leads off with seven acoustic tracks recorded in 1969 for the Duffy Power LP. While all of that material from that record is worth hearing (and was issued on CD on the 1992 release titled Blues Power, these are also quite good, subtly ingratiating folk-blues-rock, if not quite as exciting as the Innovations material. Also on hand are three slightly slicker, but still satisfying, early-'70s tracks with full arrangements, produced by ex-Zombies Rod Argent and Chris White (and previously available on the CD compilation Just Say Blue). There are also three previously unreleased tracks, all Power originals, from 1970 recordings on which he was backed by Keith Tippett's group -- of those, "Dr. Love" has a slight funk feel, while the more impressive "Holiday" and "Love Song" blend pleasing jazz, blues, and folk accents with Power's effectively gentle vocals and tender compositions. Finally, the CD concludes with four previously unreleased tracks from 1991-2002 -- again, all Power originals -- that, refreshingly, find him sticking to the understated arrangements and genre-blending rootsy compositions that suit his style best. Colin Harper's extensive liner notes supply extensive background information on the recordings, the booklet also including rare photos from throughout Power's career.

Simon & Garfunkel, Fantastic Early Years 1966-1970 [DVD bootleg] (Footstomp). Much of the footage on this 45-minute disc of vintage Simon & Garfunkel television clips isn't in the greatest shape, at least in the form in which it's been preserved and transferred onto this bootleg DVD. But there's some good stuff here, particularly the opening segment of six songs from a 1966 Canadian TV show, done wholly live with a suit-and-tied, seated Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel harmonizing closely on a single mike. This is as early and collegiate a view of the pair (performing before a very polite, well-dressed seated audience) as you'll get, and though the image is a little wavy, the sound is pretty good for an unauthorized disc featuring mid-'60s footage. The songs in that portion, too, are well-chosen, featuring both early hits ("The Sound of Silence," "Homeward Bound," "I Am a Rock") and some less traveled early LP cuts ("Richard Cory," "He Was My Brother," and "A Most Peculiar Man"). The other clips are less exciting), but still have their entertainment value, including a couple '66 songs mimed on Hollywood A Go Go; a live versions of "The Sound of Silence" from a source identified only as "Mid '60s TV Show"; a few late-'60s appearances on The Smothers Brothers; and a promo clip for "Mrs. Robinson" showing the pair playing baseball in an empty stadium. More interesting is a fine live clip of them doing "Mrs. Robinson" with band backup in the late 1960s, taken (though it doesn't say so on the sleeve) from their 1969 television special Songs of America. There's much additional interesting old Simon & Garfunkel footage that could have been placed on here (like that Songs of America special), especially considering the short running time, but what's here is worthwhile.

Simon & Garfunkel, See for Miles: 1966-2004 [DVD bootleg] (Bad Wizard). While this unauthorized two-hour DVD by no means contains all the footage of Simon & Garfunkel that's not available on commercial releases, it does have some pretty interesting stuff, though the imperfect shape of the sources/transfer to disc will limit its appeal to serious fans. The first ten songs were all performed live, in front of a sedate studio audience, in Amsterdam in 1966. It's not quite as good as a six-song Canadian 1966 live set that's emerged on another bootleg DVD, but it's good enough, including their biggest early hits ("Homeward Bound," "I Am a Rock," "The Sound of Silence") and a bunch of relatively obscure early album tracks ("Richard Cory," "Leaves That Are Green," "A Most Peculiar Man," "A Poem on the Underground Wall," "He Was My Brother," and two versions of "Anji"). This segment's followed by their hour-long November 1969 network television special Songs of America, which mixed concert and studio footage of the pair with interviews of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel and scenes late '60s American political/cultural conflict. You'd have to think the film exists somewhere in better shape than this somewhat grainy, washed-out print, and one wishes there was more Paul and Art and less non-Simon & Garfunkel scenes. Still, those Simon & Garfunkel sequences do provide some interesting watching and listening, particularly a kinetic live concert version of "Mrs. Robinson." Rounding out the disc are appearances the duo made on Late Show with Letterman and Good Morning America in the early 2000s in association with their comeback tour, and while these aren't as exciting as the '60s clips, they do show the two to still be in fine voice (and reasonably fine humor). The clip listed as being a version of "Scarborough Fair" from The Andy Williams Show, by the way, is not the complete original late-'60s performance, but a scene of Simon & Garfunkel being shown part of the clip as part of one of their Good Morning America segments.

Stuart Sutcliffe, Stuart Sutcliffe: The Lost Beatle [DVD] (Digital Classics). Produced for the BBC, this is a well-done hour-long documentary on the life of Stuart Sutcliffe, most known as the Beatles' bass player in the early 1960s, though he left to concentrate on art before his death in early 1962. Several important close associates of Sutcliffe and the early Beatles are interviewed, including his fiancee (and noted early Beatles photographer) Astrid Kirchherr, Klaus Voormann, Stuart's sister Pauline Sutcliffe, Rod Murray (an art school chum who shared a flat in Liverpool with Sutcliffe and John Lennon), Tony Sheridan, and early Beatles manager Allan Williams. The film is handicapped, however, by the lack of any archive footage of Sutcliffe (or the Beatles from the time Sutcliffe was alive, for that matter), and also by the absence of genuine Beatles recordings on the soundtrack, with weak anonymous ersatz Beatles music serving as a poor substitute. More important, at least for the serious Beatles fanatics who comprise a significant portion of the viewers most likely to be interested in this DVD, is that the story's been told so many times in other formats that there's little that hasn't been said (in so many words) by the narrative or the people interviewed elsewhere. It's interesting to hear Voormann (himself a respected bass player) claim that Sutcliffe, contrary to most reports, was actually playing bass fairly well in his time with the Beatles in Hamburg, and also to hear Sheridan somewhat abashedly recall that Paul McCartney was fighting "like a chick" in an oft-remembered onstage rumble with Sutcliffe. Yet there's a feeling that Sutcliffe's significance, both to the Beatles and as a visual artist, is being magnified a bit more than it deserves, though not extravagantly so. In addition, the theories (largely advanced by Pauline Sutcliffe) that Lennon and Sutcliffe had some homosexual interaction with each other, and that Lennon administered a beating that might have led to Sutcliffe's death of a cerebral hemorrhage, are discussed here despite the lack of solid evidence, though they're only touched upon (and dismissed by Kirchherr as "silly" and "rubbish"). The film does use some little-seen still photographs of Sutcliffe and the early Beatles, and includes a bonus gallery of Sutcliffe's largely abstract (and, to this day, not often circulated) artwork, though it doesn't seem to justify the claims of American art historian Donald Kuspit in the main feature that Sutcliffe was a major talent.

The Velvet Underground, At the Factory: Warhol Tapes (bootleg) (Nothing Songs Limited). On January 3, 1966, the Velvet Underground -- very shortly after coming to Andy Warhol's attention -- had rehearsals taped by Warhol in the Factory. Much (though not all) of that tape is included on this bootleg, with the addition of three songs from a live performance on February 6, 1966, and two more songs rehearsed in the Factory on March 7, 1966. Be straight about this -- it's for serious fans only, since the recording quality's not that good (particularly in the vocal department), and since, in common with many rehearsals, the tracks are often sketches, riffs, and fooling around, not complete songs. If you are a serious fan, however, it's a fascinating document of the band in its early, formative stages -- the earliest such document, in fact, other than the low-key July 1965 demo tape of Lou Reed, Sterling Morrison, and John Cale that came out as disc one of the Peel Slowly and See box set. The strikingly idiosyncratic, assaultive brittle droning sound of the band is already in place in the January rehearsal, but there are relatively few snatches of familiar original songs, other than "Heroin" and "There She Goes Again" (which here already approach forms similar to their studio arrangements).

What's most remarkable is that you can hear, in the formless jamming, more specific links to the band's rock'n'roll roots that would be buried in their standard repertoire, with licks from Bo Diddley's "Crackin' Up" and (more surprisingly) the Beatles' "Day Tripper" cropping up, as well as more generic blues noodling. Too, parts of the track awkwardly titled "Run Run Run intro to Miss Joanie Lee," as well as some passages elsewhere on the disc, bear distinct resemblance to some of the knotty, chaotic improvisation heard in the band's studio version of "European Son." Most intriguingly, there are partial run-throughs, in different keys, of "There She Goes Again" with Nico, not Lou Reed, on vocals, though this idea to put her in the frontwoman position for this tune was apparently abandoned. The five songs from February and March performances include complete versions of "Heroin" and "I'll Be Your Mirror." Bigger surprises are a cover of Bob Dylan's "I'll Keep It With Mine," a song that Nico would do on her debut album, and here given an "I'm Waiting for the Man"-style rhythm; a "European Son" that slides into lines from the old Dale Hawkins rockabilly classic "Suzie Q"; and an original song with fairly indistinct vocals, "Get It on Time," that never appeared on the Velvet Underground studio releases, and has an atypical country-folk-rock feel.

Various Artists, The Best of Hootenanny [DVD] (Shout Factory). It's hard to believe that folk music was so popular in the early 1960s that it commanded its own network television show. But it was indeed, with Hootenanny running for 18 months between April 1963 and September 1964. This three-DVD set contains no less than four-and-a-half hours of material from the series, with 91 separate live performances (most of them musical, although a few routines from comedians are included as well) before collegiate audiences.  Hootenanny did tend toward the more commercial side of the folk boom, and it's true that a good deal of the stuff on this set is of the dated, innocuous, even corny singalong variety. Yet there's also some fairly earthy offerings with integrity, and as a whole it's a wide-ranging sampling of the music being categorized as "folk" during the peak of the folk revival, with some notable omissions.

To start with some of the less whitebread stuff, highlights include Ian & Sylvia, near the outset of their recording career; Miriam Makeba, just around the time she was becoming an international star, singing in both her native tongue and English; Johnny Cash, performing "Busted" and "Five Feet High and Rising"; and Judy Collins, in the prime of her pure folk period, both doing "Anathea" solo and dueting with Theodore Bikel on "Kisses Sweeter Than Wine." Future folk-rockers of note crop up here and there in their purely folk incarnations, including not just Collins and Ian & Sylvia, but also John Phillips (as part of the Journeymen); Scott McKenzie (also as part of the Journeymen); Barry McGuire (as part of the New Christy Minstrels, singing their hit "Green, Green"); Hoyt Axton; the Dillards, when they were strictly a bluegrass band; and, most surprisingly, Carly Simon, as half of the Simon Sisters (whose two songs include a cover of Pete Seeger's "Turn, Turn, Turn"). And while there's a good deal of commercial Kingston Trio-style folk from the likes of the Limeliters, Chad Mitchell Trio, the Rooftop Singers, and the Brothers Four, it'll surprise many viewers to see how many different styles were represented. There's gospel (Marion Williams, the Clara Ward Gospel Singers); country (not just Cash, but also Eddy Arnold, trying to get it on the folk boom with "Poor Howard" and "Song of the Cuckoo"); Irish folk (the Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem); old-time country (the Carter Family); and even a bit of jazz (Herbie Mann, whose two clips are among the better ones). It's also interesting to see Trini Lopez delivering "If I Had a Hammer" on electric guitar with a group including Mickey Jones (later to drum on Bob Dylan's 1966 world tour), well in advance of the popularization of folk-rock. There are also comedy bits from a young Woody Allen, a young Bill Cosby, and John F. Kennedy impersonator Vaughn Meader, though these (like many of the music clips) are on the mild and dated side.

As interesting as this footage is, it could have been a lot more so, through no fault of Shout Factory or the set's compilers. As is well known (and as this set's liner notes acknowledge), some noted performers boycotted Hootenanny because of the show's unwillingness to have Pete Seeger appear unless he signed a loyalty oath. Seeger didn't, and the performers who refused to appear on the show as a result included many of the very best and most popular folk acts of the time, among them Bob Dylan, Peter, Paul & Mary, Joan Baez, the Kingston Trio, Tom Paxton, and  Ramblin' Jack Elliott. And while the set does include clips by some very obscure artists like Beverly White, Richard & Jim, and the Coventry Singers, it doesn't have some very interesting ones who appeared on the program, like the Big Three (with a young Cass Elliot), Bonnie Dobson, and Judy Henske (who, frustratingly, is seen as one of the singers in a group singalong finale of "He's Got the World in His Hands," but not in a clip of her own). What's here is certainly abundant, well preserved, and for the most part quite enjoyable, raising hopes that a further volume might be produced of the footage that didn't make the cut for this release.

Various Artists, Joe Meek Freakbeat: You're Holding Me Down (Castle). Joe Meek is most famous for the records he made in the early-to-mid-1960s, even the best of which usually matched futuristic one-of-a-kind production with quaint, silly (if sometimes quite catchy) tunes. This has led many critics to charge, with some justification, that trends were passing him by as British Invasion groups with grittier, more creative material overran the globe. It's sometimes overlooked, however, that he made quite a few records with the new generation of self-contained, tougher mod/R&B-oriented British bands in the final two years or so of his life, even if these experienced little commercial success. A whopping 30 such sides from 1964-66 are assembled on this quite interesting and occasionally thrilling (if uneven) compilation. Generally, Meek was more restrained in leaving his heavy sonic thumbprint on these records than he was with most of his acts, perhaps because the groups were more apt to have their own songs and want to arrange things their own way. You can still hear a lot of Meek in the super-compressed sound, thick-as-a-brick percussive slap, and occasional astral organ, but the tracks aren't as chock-a-block with effects and strangeness as most of the cuts he did with more malleable acts.

Fortunately, Meek didn't seem inclined to tame the rough edges off such groups, and quite a lot of uninhibited (if rather uncommercial) R&B/pop raving  comes through on these obscure releases, most of which were flops (and some of which weren't even issued at the time). A few of the tracks, in fact, are among the greatest examples of unhinged "freakbeat," bridging British Invasion mod/R&B/pop and psychedelia on vicious, nearly off-the-rails recordings like the Buzz's "You're Holding Me Down," the Syndicats' "Crawdaddy Simone," and Jason Eddie & the Centremen's insanely trilling "Singing the Blues." There are some more standard, but also satisfying, tough R&B-grounded performances too, like David John & the Mood's "I Love to See You Strut" and "Bring It to Jerome," and Heinz & the Wild Boys' "Big Fat Spider" and "I'm Not a Bad Guy," both of which feature some of the most exciting unknown over-the-top guitar solos in all of mid-'60s British rock. While most of the other cuts are less notable, most of them likewise have something to recommend in the way of both eerie production values and tough, crunchy tunes -- and sometimes, a lot to recommend in those categories, as listens to Paul & Ritchie & the Cryin' Shames' "Come on Back," Jason Eddie & the Centremen's "Come on Baby," and the Riot Squad's "I Take It That We're Through" will confirm.

Certainly it doesn't have all of the notable work that Meek did in this style. There's nothing by Screaming Lord Sutch, for example, and there are additional sides by Heinz and the Syndicats in this vein well worth hearing. Too, while the Puppets' "Shake with Me" is quite acceptable, it pales next to the killer version cut by Meek with the Outlaws (with Ritchie Blackmore delivering one of the most incredible little-heard guitar solos of the mid-'60s). What's here, though, is a mighty fun listen, and will appeal in almost equal measures to both Meek and British Invasion fanatics. Many of these tracks, incidentally, have previously shown up on other collector-oriented anthologies, going all the way back to the special British edition of the Pebbles series, Pebbles Vol. 6. But they're presented here with better sound quality, and certainly better liner notes, than those compilations often featured.

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Archived Reviews


Johnny Cash, Man in Black: Live in Denmark 1971 [DVD] (Columbia/Legacy). Broadcast on Danish television in 1971, this hour-long program is a decent document of Johnny Cash in the prime of his media visibility, though it's not the best such thing available. In fact, it's a little like watching an episode of his network variety TV show without as much variety. Done on a simple set before a small audience, the focus is wholly on the music, though Cash occasionally cedes the spotlight to a few guests. Seven of the nineteen songs on the disc, however, are Cash solo performances, including well-known numbers like "I Walk the Line," "Man in Black," "A Boy Named Sue," and "Guess Things Happen That Way," as well as the Kris Kristofferson covers "Me and Bobby McGee" and "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down." Cash also duets with wife June Carter Cash on three tunes, taking in another Kristofferson cover ("Help Me Make It Through the Night") and interpretations of songs by John Sebastian ("Darling Companion") and Tim Hardin ("If I Were a Carpenter"). Also taking turns as featured performers are Carl Perkins (with "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Matchbox"), the Statler Brothers (who do their biggest hit, "Flowers on the Wall"), and the Carter Family (though the instrumental they offer sounds like a song that's waiting for a lead vocalist to come in). All the performers join together for some spiritual tunes, and Cash provides the melodramatic narration for the Carter Family's maudlin "A Song to Mama," complete with an insert of Maybelle Carter getting misty-eyed in a corner of the screen. The show as a whole is a little workmanlike (and Cash's guitar often dangles unplayed), but it's a fair way to get a concentrated dose of the music Johnny and his intimates were performing in the early 1970s.

The Collins Kids, At 'Town Hall Party' Vol. 2 [DVD] (Bear Family). It was amazing enough that a couple dozen 1958 Collins Kids performances on the Town Hall Party television show were unearthed for the 2003 At 'Town Hall Party' DVD. If you'd been told that there were more than 50 more such performances in the archive, you'd shoot back, "you must be joking." But it's no joke -- there were enough additional Collins Kids kinescope clips from the same source, all from 1959, to fill up not one but two more Bear Family DVDs. At 'Town Hall Party' Vol. 2 has a couple dozen songs from throughout 1959, and while these might be a shade less exciting than those on volume one due to a slightly less exciting song selection, they're still remarkably invigorating to watch. As with the first volume of this series, one aspect that might disappointment hardcore Collins Kids a bit is that they do few of the songs they cut on their studio records, though they do at least offer a version of their original "Hot Rod." For the more general viewer, it should also be noted that the taken-from-kinescope image quality and brittle audio isn't up to the standards of most commercial video releases, though it's not at all hard to watch. In addition, several of the tunes are done more than once -- there are three versions, in fact, of "Stagger Lee."

On the other hand, however, this does give you the chance to see them do many covers they never put on their discs, from "Shake, Rattle and Roll" (in which Lorrie Collins heedlessly adheres to the original lyrics, bellowing "I'm a hungry man") to such relatively obscure items as LaVern Baker's "So High, So Low" and Sheb Wooley's "Sweet Chile." Listeners familiar with the ferocious rockabilly of their records might be a little taken aback to see them do some unexpected standards and pop tunes. Yet such was their onstage chemistry and frenetic energy -- Larry Collins in particular can hardly keep still for a moment, even if the upper neck of his double-necked guitar is more a prop than something to be played -- that they make even such inexplicable material as "Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen" (two versions, no less) and Bobby Rydell's "Kissin' Time" into enjoyably bopping rockabilly numbers. Larry takes the stage alone for a few numbers, and the instrumental "Ramrod," on which both he and Joe Maphis play different necks of the same guitar, is a highlight. Maphis and a downright tiny-looking, ten-year-old Collins also duet (and, briefly, play the same guitar simultaneously) on the DVD bonus track, the ultra-hot instrumental  "Mutt and Jeff Boogie," filmed in November 1954.

The Collins Kids, At 'Town Hall Party' Vol. 3 [DVD] (Bear Family). The third volume of the series of Bear Family's incredibly exhaustive presentation of Collins Kids television clips presents 28 more live performances, all from 1959. Like volume two, it might not quite be the cream of their Town Hall Party appearances, and is populated by a surprising number of cover versions of rock'n'roll hits and pop standards that they never put on their studio discs. And, as with volume two, some of the numbers are done more than once, leading to a more repetitive DVD experience than would be optimal -- there are four versions here of "Ramrod" alone, and many of the tunes (including "Ramrod") are also done on the other Bear Family Collins Kids DVDs. Some of the comic routines preceding specific numbers, too, are repeated almost verbatim, and as amusing as they might be, you might get tired of hearing Larry Collins' sniggering laugh so many times. Still, as in the first two volumes, the duo's blazingly energetic presentation breathes life into not just songs that you imagine they'd be pretty well-suited for ("Great Balls of Fire," "Sea Cruise"), but also more surprising choices like Paul Anka's "Lonely Boy" (where Lorrie Collins doesn't bother to change the lyric, singing "I'm just a lonely boy"), Ricky Nelson's "I Got a Feeling," and the Coasters' "Charlie Brown." The charge through "Johnny B. Goode" (the lyric changed to refer to "Larry" instead of "Johnny") is a highlight, as is Larry Collins and Joe Maphis' exotic instrumental "The Rockin' Gypsy." Larry takes some spots here on his own without Laurie, but usually they sing together in effervescent, nearly-cheek-to-cheek form. As with the other volumes, it's unfortunate that there aren't more songs from the Collins Kids' '50s records, although this does include versions of tunes from their "Sugar Plum"/"Kinda Like Love" single, which wasn't one of their best. Nonetheless, these are consistently entertaining performances, revealing Larry Collins as one of the most kinetic stage artists in all of '50s rock'n'roll, even if you get the feeling his hyperactivity would drive you up the wall if you had to spend more time with him than you do when watching these DVDs.

The Doors, Live in Philadelphia (Rhino Handmade/Bright Midnight). One of several concerts from which 1970's official live Doors album Absolutely Live was sourced is offered in its entirety on this double CD of a May 1, 1970 show, available through the Internet only. Like Absolutely Live, it finds the band in a loosey-goosey state that drifts close to sloppiness, albeit with an engaging tipsy humor. Except for a few obligatory staples ("Light My Fire," "Break on Through," "Roadhouse Blues"), the group seemed determined not to play overly familiar tunes, even reaching back on occasion to their bar band days as a poor man's Rolling Stones for B.B. King ("Rock Me Baby"), Elvis Presley ("Mystery Train"), and Chuck Berry ("Carol") covers. Most of the tracks are previously unreleased, and it's not all hits or covers, the setlist including such relatively little-traveled songs as "Ship of Fools," "Universal Mind," and "Maggie M'Gill." Certainly Jim Morrison's in a lewd'n'bluesy mood, and for a guy with obscenity charges hanging over his head (from the group's infamous 1969 Miami concert), he lets it all hang out with surprisingly graphic recklessness on "Rock Me Baby" -- could anyone have doubted  what "you feel so wet...let me slide inside" really meant? In common with most of the limited-edition releases the Doors have made available from their archive, this isn't up to the standards of their official catalog, even the relatively loose ones of Absolutely Live. But it's a good souvenir for committed fans, with much better sound than the usual bootlegs of the Doors from this era, though it's curious the material is split into a lengthy 76-minute CD on disc one and a mere 26-minute CD on disc two.

Bob Dylan, Live/Finjan Club, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, July 2, 1962 (Yellow Dog). There are a number of live Bob Dylan recordings from 1962, and now that some of them have been officially issued (particularly on Live at the Gaslight 1962), this July 2, 1962 Montreal performance might not be considered the first place to look for such material. But if you do have a deep interest in Dylan, and particularly the Dylan of this era, this is recommended further listening. The sound quality is pretty clear, and almost up to the level you'd want from an official release. The eleven-song set includes a few Dylan originals, among them such relatively little-traveled ones as "The Death of Emmett Till," "Quit Your Lowdown Ways," and "Let Me Die in My Footsteps," as well as an early performance of "Blowin' in the Wind" (here memorably introduced as a kind of song that says "a little more than I love you and you love me, and let's go over to the banks of Italy and raise a happy family, you for me and me for you"). While there are other versions of some of the traditional folk and blues tunes on other Dylan bootlegs, "Rocks and Gravel," "Stealin'," Muddy Waters' "Two Trains Runnin'" (mistakenly listed on some bootlegs as a Dylan composition called "Still a Fool"), Robert Johnson's "Ramblin' on My Mind," and "Muleskinner Blues" (albeit a chaotic version where he stops, starts, and changes keys several times) are likewise not exactly among the more familiar items in Dylan's early repertoire, and interesting to hear in part for that reason alone. The main reason to listen to this CD, however, is the performance itself, in which Dylan sings and plays with commanding passion and sensitivity, at a time when he was both finding his feet as a composer and still maintaining deep roots in traditional folk music.

The Five Du-Tones, Shake a Tail Feather: The Complete One-Derful! Recordings (Shout). Though the Five-Du Tones did some subsequent recordings for other labels, their key output is contained in the sides they cut from the One-Derful label between 1963-66. All of that material is contained on this 22-track compilation, including not only all of the sides from their singles for the company, but also four songs that didn't surface until they surfaced on an obscure Japanese LP more than a decade after they were cut. Their only hit, "Shake a Tail Feather," is here, of course, and there's no getting around the conclusion that it's by far their best record. Still, the rest of the CD does contain its share of fun, wiggly dance tunes that helped bridge the gap between doo wop and soul music, with the occasional more serious romantic number thrown in. Most comparable to the Contours of "Do You Love Me" fame (and, as Clive Richardson's liner notes rightly point out, the Rivingtons and the early Isley Brothers, though more distantly), the Five Du-Tones had a roughly similar knack for putting wacky, at times almost slapabout humor into their uptempo dance discs. The fairly uproarious "Chicken Astronaut" -- about a spaceman who's too scared to go to the moon, yelping to be let out of his rocket so he can go back to earth and party instead -- is certainly the highlight, aside from "Shake a Tail Feather" itself. Much of the rest of it veers to the novelty side, without songs of the same strength. The group's zany playing-the-fool humor is unflaggingly spirited, though, and a few numbers (like the jazzy "Nobody But My Baby" and the smoochy ballad "Mountain of Love") show they could be skilled straight soul singers when the mood took them.

Grimms, Sleepers (Hux). Grimms' third and final album was done without some of the founding members, Mike McGear and Vivian Stanshall having departed, although Neil Innes, Roger McGough, and John Gorman remained aboard. Andy Roberts (perhaps better known for his early-1970s folk-rock-oriented singer-songwriter recordings) was on hand to give the comedy-rock group some more conventional musicality, and it was decided to fill the LP solely with musical tracks, although the two prior Grimms albums had mixed those with spoken word pieces. Sleepers was a commendably humorous collection of pastiches and send-ups of numerous musical genres, though it fell short of being as uproarious as the funniest efforts of the musicians (and of Innes in particular). Among the styles satirized were heavy progressive rock ("The Worst Is Yet to Come," where the grim prophesy is interrupted by happy-go-lucky whistling); white-boy blues-rock ("Blackest of Blues"); folk music (a warping of "House of the Rising Sun" that makes explicit what naughtiness goes on there); easygoing country-rock ("Sing Me That Song"); Beach Boys-styled retro rock ("Backbreaker," whose heroine is "pretty as a rose, if you disagree she'll smash her nose")and chin-up countercultural anthems ("Slaves of Freedom"). Though more a record that grows on you rather than one that sends you into giggles, its understated silliness is nicely complemented by accomplished musicianship.

The 2006 CD reissue on Hux adds historical liner notes and eleven bonus tracks, many of them taken from a work tape prepared by Innes, McGough, Gorman, and Roberts shortly in advance of recording the official album. Though not as sophisticated production-wise, these bonus cuts are nearly as witty and enjoyable as those on the Sleepers LP, including not only early versions of four tracks from the record, but also a number of songs that didn't make the final selection. Among the highlights of those is Innes' folk busk "Crystal Balls" (with its opening line "I've got my hand up the skirt of Mother Nature"), a desecration of the Beatles' "She's Leaving Home," and, most interestingly, an early version of the 1964 Beatles pastiche "I Must Be in Love," which Innes would use shortly afterward for his classic Rutles project.

The Kingston Trio, The Kingston Trio Story: Wherever We May Go [DVD] (Shout Factory). Combining excerpts from many vintage 1950s/1960s film clips/performances and interviews with the Kingston Trio's Bob Shane, John Stewart, and Nick Reynolds (original member Dave Guard having died years before this DVD was made), this is a fine documentary of the most successful folk group of its era (if not <I>any</I) era). The disc's hour-long breezily paced principal feature has excerpts of TV and concert presentations of most of their hits, although "The Reverend Mr. Black" somehow doesn't make it, and a few (though not many) of the performances are from post-1970 clips with different or reunion versions of the band, not their classic '50s/'60s lineups. The '50s/'60s clips in particular present a zany, comic energy that didn't always come through as strongly on their records, and even if it seems a little dated and corny several decades later, it does help explain their enormous in-person appeal. Unfortunately, the interview segments with Reynolds (showing effects of a stroke) are less extensive than those with Shane and Stewart, but gaps are filled in by comments from Reynolds' son, Kingston Trio biographer William J. Bush, and celebrities such as Al Jardine of the Beach Boys and Tom Smothers. There may not be many revelations for those familiar with the group's career, but it's a well-done general survey, with occasional surprising bits like Jardine's admission that the Beach Boys' early striped-shirt look was inspired by the Kingston Trio; a clip of the relatively obscure "Raspberries, Strawberries" that showcases the sweetest side of their three-part harmonies; tantalizingly brief clips of the group doing a 7 Up commercial and a pilot for a TV series (Young Men in a Hurry), featuring the Stewart lineup playing fictional characters, that never aired; and even a very brief scene from the Australian TV series Dave Guard hosted after leaving the group, Dave's Place.

Some viewers might feel the documentary skips over the basic details of their career a little lightly, but if you want more detail, a lot's provided by no less than about 90 minutes or so of bonus features. While it's true these are more for the dedicated fan than the viewer looking for an entertaining, concise history, these segments are not at all superfluous, though they emphasize talking heads more than the main documentary does. One section has the ex-members and others discussing the specific stories behind numerous of their more celebrated songs; another goes into their sound, personalities, and image in some depth; another profiles their manager, Frank Werber. Some very interesting interview subjects and vintage clips not in the principle feature show up in these supplemental sections, including scenes from the Hollywood film adaptation of "Tom Dooley" and a quirky juke box jury program in which four young adults explain why they think "Raspberries, Strawberries" will be a substantial hit (though it wasn't). There are even three of their original, reasonably amusing 7 Up commercials in their entirety. The part on obsessed Kingston Trio fans (some of whom even go to a Kingston Trio "fantasy camp" that allows them to meet and play with surviving ex-members) will be too much for even many committed admirers of the group, but fortunately the DVD doesn't go any more overboard than that.

Ramsey Lewis, The In Crowd Anthology (UM3/Island). A two-CD anthology of Ramsey Lewis' Chess recordings might seem excessive, but considering how much material he cut for the label in the 1960s, this set is actually fairly selective. Certainly it's good value, with 39 tracks and a running time of two hours and twenty minutes. As for consistency of style and quality, that's another matter, though generally it's a worthwhile summary of highlights from the prime of a rare '60s instrumental musician who combined jazz, R&B, and pop with considerable commercial success. While none of this could be categorized as raw or earthy, some of the tracks (particularly on disc one) are fairly gutsy R&B-jazz fusions, particularly the hits "The 'In' Crowd" and "Wade in the Water" (his two other Top Forty singles, "Hang on Sloopy" and "A Hard Day's Night," are also here). On the other hand, the covers of pop-rock hits (including several by the Beatles) veer toward lounge soul, even though there was no one better than Lewis at that kind of stuff. Occasionally there are flashes of a more idiosyncratic, jazzy originality that sound as if Lewis is playing for himself as well as the marketplace, particularly when he gets into some Latin-influence boogaloo grooves on "Blue Bango" (easily the most uninhibited piece on this collection), "Spanish Grease," and "Hey Mrs. Jones." The later cuts, while showing him capable of keeping up with commercial trends by adding funk and touches of psychedelia, also find him losing the distinctive mid-'60s nightclubbish pop-soul sound that had vaulted him to prominence in the first place.

Curtis Mayfield, Anthology 1965-1994 [DVD] (Footstomp). This 90-minute DVD, mostly taken from 1970-75 clips (and mostly from television programs), is a pretty enjoyable compilation of Curtis Mayfield performances, though the way it's assembled and packaged makes it pretty obvious it's not an authorized release. In its favor, most of the footage is presented in pretty good quality, though there's an annoying small logo of the Footstomp label in the upper right-hand corner -- a pretty rich pretense if the object was to present bootlegging, since this itself is not an officially blessed production. There are Japanese subtitles on some other segments, and to its detriment, the majority of the material is mimed, or at the very least sung to a backing track from the record. That's especially obvious in the 1971-75 material from the Soul Train TV program (which comprises about half the DVD), where Curtis does sing into a mike, but no other musicians are visible.

Still, this does afford the chance to see Mayfield perform, in some fashion, much material from his prime -- not only highlights from the Superfly album, but also such relatively uncelebrated tunes as "Check Out Your Mind" (done in 1970, when he was still part of the Impressions), "Back to the World," and "Future Shock." Also on the disc is one sole '60s Impressions clip (of "It's Alright," from 1965); a performance of "Freddie's Dead" at the 1972 Grammy awards; a live 1972 medley of "We the People Who Are Darker Than Blue" and "Give Me Your Love"; the clip of Mayfield doing "I'm Your Pusherman" in a nightclub from the Superfly movie itself; footage of him performing "Freddie's Dead" live in a studio in 1972 (though, unfortunately, this particular scene has subpar audio); and a live 1973 performance of "Superfly" on Midnight Special (introduced by Helen Reddy!) that's probably the highlight of the DVD. While the numerous Soul Train excerpts are fairly artificial in their lip-syncing, incidentally, they're not without some extra-musical entertainment value, in both the fairly amazing display of colorful period African-American fashions among the dancers, and a few segments where Mayfield answers some questions about his current releases, both from host Don Cornelius and (in a too-short segment, comprising just a few questions) from the actual Soul Train audience. The disc ends with the "bonus track" of a Mayfield tribute medley at the 1994 Grammy Awards, performed by musicians including Bruce Springsteen, Bonnie Raitt, B.B. King, Tony! Toni! Toné!, Stevie Winwood, and Steve Cropper.

The Quiet Five, When the Morning Sun Dries the Dew (RPM). Both of sides of all six of the singles issued by this obscure British band between 1965-67 (including one released only in the US) are on this compilation, which also presents seven previously unissued tracks. With their clean-cut, American-influenced vocal harmony sound, The Quiet Five weren't too comparable to many other British Invasion bands; perhaps the Fortunes and Peter & Gordon, a bit, though they were earthier than the Fortunes and not as folky as Peter & Gordon. The influences of the Beach Boys and Merseybeat are also felt to varying degrees. While the material is uneven, and isn't stunning, it's a pretty respectable slant on the more lightweight side of the mid-'60s British Invasion. Certainly their moody, folky debut single "When the Morning Sun Dries the Dew" is a highlight, akin to Peter & Gordon in their more serious moods, making one wish Quiet Five singer-guitarist Kris Ife had penned more of the group's releases. The more energetic B-sides "Tomorrow I'll Be Gone" (a quite tough Merseybeat-flavored number) and the soul-pop-Mersey hybrid "Let's Talk It Over" are also quite satisfying, if not typical of the approach the band usually took. Indeed, the group's versatility sometimes worked against rather than for them, as they also delved into unimpressive updates of standards, limpid pop, and a not-so-hot cover of the fine Rolling Stones LP track "I Am Waiting." Still, there are more enjoyable cuts here than duds, including an uncharacteristically fuzzy stomper with lead vocals by P.J. Proby, "Didn't Give a Damn," among the unreleased items. Overall, it's a pleasantly worthwhile compilation, and recommended to British Invasion collectors trying to discover something new from the vaults, as the Quiet Five are a band of which even many serious British Invasion fans might remain unaware.

Cliff Richard, In the Beginning [DVD] (Music Reviews Ltd.). On the one hand, the availability of this look at the early years of Cliff Richard's music is welcome, both because he did some good rock'n'roll during that time that's undervalued, and because there's some good footage of early Richard performances. On the other, it's frustratingly disappointing, as it's too short (about 50 minutes), includes only portions of performances rather than full songs, and doesn't have interviews with Richard himself, or even with Richard associates. Instead, the commentary's supplied by fans, critics, musicians, and producers who, with the possible exception of British rock writer Chris Welch, will not be well known to the average rock'n'roll enthusiast (and certainly don't have direct connections with Richard's career). The talking heads are reasonably astute in their observations, but one would have to think that interviews with Richard and the Shadows, whether archival or done specifically for a project such as this, would have been more illuminating. In addition, the length and the way the program's structured doesn't allow for a great deal of depth. Richard actually recorded a good number of decent rockers in the late 1950s and early 1960s, but you don't hear about too many of them here, and the impression's given that he moved into all-around entertainment almost immediately after rising to stardom, which is partially but not wholly true. Worst of all, although there are some excerpts of Richard singing and performing in late-'50s/early-'60s TV shows and feature films, these are truncated (even an exciting live 1960 television version of the classic "Move It"), sometimes sharing a split screen with one of the talking heads. What vintage footage there is has its interesting points, also including 1959 TV covers of "Turn Me Loose" and the Coasters' "Three Cool Cats" (the latter sung with fellow early British rockers Dickie Pride and Marty Wilde). But given better resources, it must be possible to fill a solid 90-minute documentary on the same subject with much more old footage and more relevant interviewees.

The Rolling Stones, Sweet Black Angel/The Lost Sessions Vol. 1 (Empress Valley Supreme). The late 1960s and early 1970s didn't yield many (as far as we know) unreleased studio recordings of completed, otherwise unavailable Rolling Stones songs. But it did produce a wealth of fairly interesting alternate/working versions and song embryos that never got polished off, sixteen of which are presented on this compilation. As the title Sweet Black Angel implies, many are from that murky early-'70s period when the Stones were working, in fits and starts, on Exile on Main Street, and several of these tracks are different versions of songs that ended up on that album. Some of these aren't much different from the familiar renditions, but others are, like an early, much less fully formed version of "Tumbling Dice" with different lyrics (here titled "Good Time Woman"); a long version of "Shake Your Hips"; "Stop Breakin' Down" with no harmonica; and an instrumental backing track for "Sweet Black Angel" itself.

Also on hand, and perhaps of somewhat greater interest in most cases, are a bunch of instrumentals that obviously contain seeds of possible songs, but which somehow never quite got there. At the very least, these have that appealing rough'n'ready, scratchy soul-blues-rock feel so typical of the Rolling Stones in the early '70s. While some of them are on the generic side as far as the riffs go, some of them seemed to hold real promise, making one hope that tracks of these tunes with sung lyrics might miraculously be found one day. "Aladdin Story" in particular is a luminously sluggish, jazzy tune with entrancing guitar-horn-vibes interplay, perhaps abandoned because the key guitar riff is very close to the one that had been used on "Paint It Black." Closing out the disc are a few late-'60s cuts with vocals, and while a couple of these songs were used on Metamorphosis, the likably wistful if slight soul ballad "Hamburger to Go" never did find release anywhere.

Although all of this material had been around for quite a few years before this 2005 bootleg, the sound quality of this disc is much superior to many earlier circulations of these tracks, so much so that much of it could be used as bonus cuts on official CD reissues without raising any eyebrows (and those that aren't quite as spiffy still have fidelity almost as good as most officially released recordings). While these efforts are either too close to the official versions or too undeveloped to interest non-fanatics, anyone whose interest in the Rolling Stones' music from this era extends beyond what's been approved for the marketplace will enjoy this collection. (Note that some of the dates listed for the recordings do not jibe with those listed in other sources.)

Sly & the Family Stone, My Own Beliefs: Video Anthology 1968-1986 [DVD] (Avdenture). Although the image quality of this extraordinary two-DVD bootleg set is uneven, no serious fans of Sly & the Family Stone could fail to be impressed by it, offering as it does an astonishing four hours or so of vintage clips, mostly from television programs. The performances are almost all good-to-excellent and visually dynamic, featuring the band with colorful finery and clever dance moves/vocal tradeoffs in an assortment of TV/concert/studio settings. Most of their hits are performed -- in fact, most of them are offered in multiple versions -- and all but a couple of the clips are from their 1968-75 prime. The very earliest of these (listed as a "studio/promo" clip of "Dance to the Music") shows them wearing almost conventional clothes and hairstyles, but almost immediately they graduate to a presentation about as purposefully freaky as anyone's was in the psychedelic era. In addition to music performances, there are also a few expectedly enigmatic interview clips of Sly Stone on the talks shows of Dick Cavett, and a heated 1974 discussion of race and politics on Mike Douglas' talk show with Stone, Muhammad Ali, and (believe it or not) Congressman Wayne Hays, shortly before that powerful Democratic politician was disgraced by the revelation that a former secretary was on his payroll to be his mistress. A brief 1980s TV interview shows Sly in better health than one would expect, but is utterly unrevealing as to why he virtually disappeared from the music business. There's even footage (albeit amateurish) of his 1974 wedding ceremony at Madison Square Garden.

While all this material is very entertaining, and historically valuable, be cautioned that the visual quality is usually not up to the standard of authorized releases, though the vast majority is okay-to-excellent. The fairly lengthy set from the 1969 Texas International Pop Festival, for instance, suffers from subpar audio, and some of the footage has a running time bar superimposed on the frame. The songs performed don't vary as much as you might want or expect, usually being oriented toward familiar hits, with seven versions of "Dance to the Music" (and nothing, unfortunately, from There's a Riot Goin' On). The band's taste for presenting their hits in medleys gets a little tiresome when you see it done several times over. While the early-'0s clips with expanded and different personnel are good, they're not quite up to the level of the ones featuring the original lineup (which comprise about half the material), who had a chemistry subsequent aggregations couldn't match. And for all its length, this doesn't gather all the footage of the group known to exist. Like many other such releases, this ends up emphasizing the need for someone to compile this or similar footage from the best possible sources and give it official release. As of the time this DVD had appeared, however, there was no word of such an official release, making this the best known place to see as much of the band as you can, despite the inevitable shortcomings inherent in not having access to the best source footage.

Ike & Tina Turner, The Soul Anthology (Red Line). Ike & Tina Turner put out so many recordings in the final years of the 1960s that there was no way to meticulously craft each of them. As a result the discs, while usually acceptable at the very least, had an uneven feel, and were apt to present routine material and arrangements that weren't always worthy of the Turners' talents. Most general soul fans will prefer investigating this material through more selective best-of compilations. But if you are a more serious aficionado who wants to collect more, this two-CD, 44-track compilation does a pretty good job of putting a lot of it in one place, in a more thoughtful, logical grouping than many such CD anthologies do. Four 1968-1969 albums are presented in their entirety here, those being 1968's So Fine and 1969's Cussin', Cryin' & Carryin' On (both originally issued on the Pompeii label), and 1969's Outta Season and The Hunter (both issued on Blue Thumb).

Certainly the records were spotty, and (aside from Cussin', Cryin' & Carryin' On too oriented toward familiar covers of familiar blues/soul/R&B tunes. Accepting that this isn't Ike & Tina at their very best, however, it's certainly no disgrace to their names, as Tina Turner's singing is almost always involved and fiery, and the tracks always competent at the least, if not always inspired. Certainly the cuts from So Fine are the least distinctive, with something of a soul-by-numbers feel, though occasionally (particularly in the blues-soul slow burner "It Sho Ain't Me") even these rise above the average. The material from Cussin', Cryin' & Carryin' On is more interesting, if only because Ike Turner wrote most of it, though its zigzags between R&B ballads, girl group-influenced soul, and quite good funk-rock instrumentals with a menacing edge suggest it might have been culled from various sessions over a lengthy period. Both Blue Thumb albums (heard on disc two) are decisively bluesier and better than the two Pompeii LPs, though the song selection is a little unimaginative, with covers of well-known tunes like "Dust My Broom," "3 O'Clock in the Morning Blues," "Rock Me, Baby," "My Babe," and "The Things That I Used to Do." Ike Turner's guitar work is certainly more assertive on the Blue Thumb material, and while the songs themselves might not be the best interpretations, overall they add up to a pretty good blues-soul listen, highlighted by what's probably their most acclaimed cover from this era, "I've Been Loving You Too Long" (originally by Otis Redding). As nice bonuses, the compilers also tacked on the one track (the instrumental "Funky Mule") from their 1969 Pompeii LP Get It Together! that hadn't been previously released at the time, as well as the famous, original Phil Spector-produced 1966 single "River Deep-Mountain High," always good to hear even if it doesn't stylistically fit in with the rest of the compilation.

The Walker Brothers, Everything Under the Sun (Universal). Everything under  the sun from the Walker Brothers' studio output is indeed here on this five-CD box set. It has not only everything from their mid-1960s prime on the first three CDs, but also the more neglected (though considerably less impressive) three albums or so they did in the mid-to-late 1970s after reuniting. There are also 13 previously unreleased tracks from 1965-67, as well as a 48-page booklet with an historical essay and oodles of photos and memorabilia. Naturally, like many completist box sets, this isn't for everyone; there's much superb material, but also a good deal of also-ran cuts and covers. Too, the 1970s material is not only often rather dull pop (sometimes with slight country overtones), but not too similar or compatible with the lush 1960s productions. Plus, to be technical, it doesn't have <I>everything</I> the Walker Brothers issued, lacking the live album they recorded in Japan in 1968 (which, as of the release of this box set, still had not made it to CD).

Focusing on the positive, however, this has a lot of quality music besides their familiar hits (which are also all included, of course). The R&B and soul covers the brothers sang to pad out their releases may not have been their forte, and sometimes the pop ballads were gushy, but Scott Walker's voice (and John Walker's second vocals) usually at least made them pleasant on some level. As for the booming, brooding ballads (with nods to Phil Spector and the Righteous Brothers) at which they excelled, there are plenty of those, including "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore," "After the Lights Go Out," "Another Tear Falls," "In My Room," "Everything Under the Sun," "Just Say Goodbye," "Deadlier Than the Male," and others. A few other songs have seeds of Scott Walker's more serious, arty side ("Archangel," "Mrs. Murphy," "Orpheus," "Experience"), and John Walker takes a nice lead vocal on one of their best obscure tracks, "I Can't Let It Happen to You."

The thirteen previously unreleased 1965-67 recordings don't add up to an unissued album of sorts; they're more an assembly of odds and ends with a bent toward mediocre soul covers ("In the Midnight Hour," "I Got You (I Feel Good)") and pop standards (such as "The Shadow of Your Smile"). Again, however, the vocals make even these erratic leftovers worthwhile to some degree, and a few of the songs are rather good, including the characteristically melancholy "Hang on for Me," the dreamily orchestrated  "Lost One," and the relatively upbeat Burt Bacharach-like "I Got Lost for a While." (The writers of all three of those mysterious tunes, incidentally, are listed as "unknown," leaving it open as to whether these were original compositions.) Also among these thirteen unearthed items are alternate versions of two songs the Walkers did release, Randy Newman's "Looking for Me" and their big smash "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine (Anymore)." While these aren't as good as the official versions, they are at least notably different, and it's interesting to hear "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine (Anymore)" in a considerably tamer, more reserved arrangement.

Other than the obvious similarities in the vocals, discs four and five could almost be the work of a different group than the one heard on the first three CDs. While this latter portion does include their big 1976 UK hit "No Regrets," it's tough sledding, with much of it given over to middle-of-the-road covers of the likes of Jimmy Webb, Randy Newman, Kris Kristofferson, and Boz Scaggs. Suddenly, however, the torpor is interrupted by Scott Walker's four originals from their final album, 1978's Nite Flights. They're bleak, piercing, heavily electronic rhythmic numbers, wholly unlike anything else the Walker Brothers did in either the 1960s or the 1970s, and wholly unlike any other '70s Walkers recordings in that they sounded bold and adventurous, rather than just treading water. They're enough, just about, to justify the inclusion of the Walker Brothers reunion material in the box, though not enough to keep the inclusion of said material from making the box even more erratic than most such complete overviews of major artists.

Muddy Waters, Classic Concerts [DVD] (Hip-O). Classic Concerts is one of those rare historical music compilation DVDs for which there's nothing significant to criticize, and much to praise. The bulk of the two-hour disc is devoted to three Muddy Waters concerts from different eras, including his historical 1960 Newport Jazz Festival appearance, a 1968 show at the Copenhagen Jazz Festival, and a 1977 gig at the Molde Jazz Festival in Norway. Although the black-and-white Newport footage does not capture the entire concert (much of which has never circulated), it does contain 26 minutes, Muddy backed by an excellent band including two blues stars in their own right (pianist Otis Spann and harmonica player James Cotton). This is definitely the most exciting portion of the DVD, including fine versions of his staples "(I'm Your) Hoochie Coochie Man," "Tiger in Your Tank," "Rollin' Stone," and above all an extended "Got My Mojo Working." Waters' shakes and shivers are truly spine-chilling on that last number, some levity introduced by a section where he dances with Cotton. The finale "Mean Mistreater/Going to Chicago Blues," where several other singers are brought on for cameos, is relatively inessential. But this segment is still one of the top vintage blues-on-film documents of all, enhanced for this DVD by the syncing of stereo live recordings to three of the songs to improve the audio (though "Rollin' Stone" and "Mean Mistreater" remain in the original mono film sound).

By the time of the 1968 Denmark show (also shot in black and white), only Spann was remaining from the Newport band. It's a somewhat staider and less electrifying performance, but still sturdy Chicago blues, though Paul Oscher's harmonica seems undermiked. Waters was less mobile by the time of the 1977 concert (shown in color), sitting on a stool throughout most of the show (whereas before a serious 1969 car accident he'd stood). Again, however, this is still a respectable showcase for his intact vocal talents, with "Got My Mojo Working" and "(I'm Your) Hoochie Coochie Man" remaining in his set (as they had at the Denmark gig as well). Brief but worthwhile bonus features include a 1977 London performance of "The Blues Had a Baby and They Named It Rock & Roll"; a 1972 British TV interview; and an interview done at the 1977 Molde show where Waters patiently responds to rather cliched questions, asking his interrogator to "bring it to me straight, brother" when the interviewer gingerly asks whether Muddy's music has political aspects. Detailed liner notes, mostly written by Bob Margolin (who plays guitar behind Waters in the 1977 Norwegian footage) and also featuring an appreciation from Bill Wyman, are also included in this high-grade package.

Various Artists, Got No Shoes Got No Blues: The 1969 Texas International Pop Festival [DVD] (Keep on Truckin'). There were several large rock festivals in 1969 that never achieved the fame or notoriety of Woodstock or Altamont. One such event was the 1969 Texas International Pop Festival, which took place near Dallas on Labor Day weekend, just a couple of weeks after Woodstock (indeed, featuring some of the same performers). It's not well known that, as at Woodstock and Altamont, much film was taken of the event, though no movie was finished for commercial release. This DVD presents an 80-minute workprint (complete with running time codes at the bottom of the screen) of the film that, in the words of the back cover, was "undoubtedly assembled for the purpose of securing a pre-editing distribution deal"; according to the back cover, "the rough cut of the film was shown once in Dallas shortly after the festival, but the record companies told the guy who showed it that they would cut his ball [sic] off [if] he ever showed it again." On one hand, this is interesting rare document of both its era and of a festival that's not well remembered on a national or international level, with footage of a quality lineup of performers, including live clips from the sets of Janis Joplin, Santana, Grand Funk Railroad (introduced, amusingly, by the emcee as "Grand Funk Railway"), Chicago (when they were still known as "Chicago Transit Authority"), Led Zeppelin, Ten Years After, Tony Joe White, James Cotton, and Sweetwater. Several of these acts were or were just becoming big stars, of course, and footage of White (here singing his hit "Pork Salad Annie," which is one of the disc's highlights) and Sweetwater (most famous for being one of the least celebrated acts to play Woodstock) from this time isn't easy to come by.

However, as a film, or even a workprint, there are many important factors keeping this from being as notable or enjoyable as it could have been, even considering that this was not the movie in the final form it would have taken. The audio for the musical portions is frustratingly thin and tinny, and the sets themselves aren't too well shot in terms of lighting, editing, and camera angles, particularly compared to celebrated documentaries of similar events such as Woodstock and Monterey Pop. There's frequent cutting between the onstage performances and (sometimes wholly unrelated) audience frolicking, to the point where there's more audience than performance footage in some scenes. The quality of the print itself is erratic, and some of the segments are linked by hokey, verging-on-annoying staged clips of a beer-drinking cowboy listening to a radio show about the "hippie hypocrisy." And, finally, some of the performers listed in the credits -- including such interesting, relatively underexposed ones as Delaney & Bonnie, the Rotary Connection, and the Incredible String Band -- are not shown in the workprint, though presumably shots from their sets would have been added at a later stage. If you can put up with all this, there are flashes of worthwhile music, whether it's White's "Pork Salad Annie"; Chicago during that very brief time when they were considered a hip act; and the incredibly manic stage posturing of Ten Years After's Leo Lyons, who plays his bass as if the instrument is in the process of electrocuting him. The shots of hippies swimming in the nude and making out, as well as the police chief enthusiastically praising the crowd's peaceful behavior, are reminiscent of similar scenes in Woodstock. They cement the impression of this rare film-in-progress as documenting a minor-league Woodstock of sorts, in respects to both the Woodstock movie and the Woodstock festival itself.

Various Artists, Out There: Wild and Wondrous Roots of Rock'n'Roll Vol. 2 (Viper). Like the first volume of this delightful series, this digs out 20 tracks from the 1920s through the mid-1950s that illustrate the wide roots of rock'n'roll. Unlike many other such compilations, it doesn't just present the blues and hillbilly recordings that were most instrumental in leading to the fusion of R&B and country-and-western that gave birth to rock'n'roll, although there are some of those. There's also goofy pop-jazz (Ella Fitzgerald's "Two Little Men in a Flying Saucer"), jugband music, boogie-influenced jazz, virtuoso instrumental country boogie (a young Chet Atkins' "Oh By Jingo!"), old-time folk music with country and blues elements (Doc Boggs' aptly titled "Country Blues"), and even a field recording of a Native American peyote dance. And the Boswell Sisters' "Rock and Roll," cut way back in 1934, shows that the term rock and roll far predated the 1950s or Alan Freed, even if the track itself is far closer to harmony vocal swing jazz than blues. There are also, of course, some Delta blues from Son House, hillbilly from Hank Williams and Jimmy Dickens, and a few tracks that more closely approximate early rock'n'roll, both stylistically and chronologically: Louis Jordan's classic boogie "Saturday Night Fish Fry," Lightnin' Slim's harmonica blues/R&B "She's Gone," and Johnny "Guitar" Watson's astonishing instrumental "Space Guitar," which still sounds futuristic today, let alone in 1954 (when it was originally cut). Many of the preceding names are famous or fairly well known, but there are a few items here that might surprise and inspire even seasoned collectors, like the madly over-reverbed country swing of steel guitarist Billy Briggs' 1953 track "Alarm Clock Boogie." Combined with detailed annotation (recording dates included) that avoid stuffiness, this is a far more fun and imaginatively eclectic anthology -- in terms of both listening and packaging -- than most higher-profile releases that explore a similar theme, though this series, unfortunately, remains one of the more obscure such ones.

Various Artists, Protest! American Protest Songs 1928-1953 (Viper). Although it wasn't until the folk revival and folk-rock movements of the 1960s that the protest song was a widely recognized wing of popular music in the US, there had been socially conscious protest songs of sorts since the dawn of the recording age. This compilation assembles 20 of them, and refreshingly, it doesn't emphasize material from the roots of the folk revival (though there's certainly some of that). Instead, this comes from all over the roots music map, from country blues and old-time folk/country artists to gospel, hillbilly, and western swing. There are certainly a number of famous artists and classic songs here, including the Sons of the Pioneers' "Old Man Atom," Bessie Smith's "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out," Big Bill Broonzy's "Black, Brown and White," Billie Holiday's "Strange Fruit," and Woody Guthrie's "1913 Massacre." There are, too, sides by Bill Monroe (as part of the Monroe Brothers), Uncle Dave Macon, Memphis Minnie, and even Gene Autry, who shows a surprising and little-known side of his repertoire with "The Death of Mother Jones," inspired by the labor activist Mary Harris Jones.

Many of these tracks are not "protest" songs in the angry and earnest sense that many listeners associate with the style; they often take a more lightly satirical, even congenial approach. The enjoyable novelty-tinged pieces on the then-new threat of atomic energy ("Old Man Atom," the Golden Gate Quartet's alternately somber and swinging gospel number "Atom and Evil," Billy Hughes and the Rhythm Buckeroos' "Atomic Sermon") remind us of how ambivalently the nuclear threat was viewed when it was a new thing, and how songs commenting on it sounded rather like they were whistling in the dark. If you do want songs that were more audible ancestors of the folk revival, however, they're here in cuts like Josh White, Millard Lampbell, and the Almanac Singers' "Billy Boy" and Lee Hayes with the Almanac Singers' "The Dodger Song," the Almanac Singers being a huge influence in getting said folk revival off the ground in the middle of the twentieth century. Whatever your sociopolitical perspective, this is impressive on purely musical and lyrical grounds, and can be enjoyed for those qualites alone. This isn't the most extensive anthology constructed along this theme; Bear Family's massive ten-CD box Songs For Political Action: Folk Music, Topical Songs, and the American Left, 1926-1953 obviously has more. But as a single-disc overview of some notable entries in the genre, this is fine, with informative historical liner notes.

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Archived Reviews


The Beach Boys, A Vocal Element: Live 1967 (Hang Ten). During their November 1967 "Thanksgiving Tour," the Beach Boys—without Brian Wilson, and with Daryl Dragon adding keyboards and Ron Brown bass—recorded several of their shows for their own personal archive. This two-CD set offers tapes of four of the concerts, taken from stereo soundboard recordings. In some respects, this is way above the average standard for unauthorized releases of 1967 live rock tapes; the sound is very good, and there's about two and a half hours of music. At the same time, the performances—in common with other live Beach Boys tapes from the last half of the 1960s—are not all that fervent fans might hope for. It might be due in part to the mixes, but the sound and arrangements are on the thin side (despite the innovative-for-1967 live theremin on "Wild Honey" and "Good Vibrations"), and the instrumental execution tentative. Plus, there's a lot of corny humor, both in the between-song patter and, more objectionably, sometimes within the songs themselves, where Mike Love not only acts the cut-up, but effectively manages to disrupt the flow of the music. Or do you really want to hear him pretend to forget a verse after the instrumental break of "I Get Around," substituting the line "we always take my car 'cause it's never been stolen"?

There's also no denying that hearing four similar sets in a row is going to entail too much repetition if you're not a serious Beach Boys fan, even if each of those sets is stuffed with classic hits, including "Wouldn't It Be Nice," "Surfer Girl," "God Only Knows," "California Girls," "Barbara Ann," "Darlin'," "Wild Honey," "Help Me Rhonda," "Sloop John B," "I Get Around," and "Good Vibrations." That brings up something that might be viewed as a plus or a drawback, depending on your perspective—while these are great songs, it might have been nice, both at the time and decades later, to hear some less predictable tunes. The first of these concerts (from November 17 in Detroit) does offer a couple of unexpected such items with a nicely harmonized "Country Air" and the less impressive good-time rocker "How She Boogalooed It," both from the soon-to-be-released Wild Honey. But these were thereafter dropped from the set, though "Johnny B. Goode" makes an unexpected appearance at a later one. It's often been noted how the Beach Boys suffered when Brian Wilson withdrew from an active role in their studio recordings in the late 1960s; it's less often observed that his retirement from the stage in the mid-1960s might have had a detrimental impact on their live performances. He might have done a lot to make recordings such as this more satisfying, even if they are respectably enjoyable relics with some good vocal harmonies. As bonuses, the CD also has a few spoken radio commercials the group did in March 1966 (though there's a snatch of a cappella harmonizing in one), the most interesting of which have some fairly humorous jabs between Mike Love and publicist Derek Taylor. Obviously some of the Love-Taylor dialogue is drawn from outtakes, particularly as one includes gay references that certainly wouldn't have been used in a Beach Boys promo in 1966.

Pete Best, Best of the Beatles [DVD] (Lightyear). For the most part, Best of the Beatles is a very interesting, well done supplement to the official Beatles story, this documentary focusing on Pete Best and his stint in the band in the early 1960s. Directed by the same man (Geoff Wonfor) who directed the Beatles' own famous Anthology documentary, it includes extensive interviews not only with Best himself, but also with quite a few others who were around him and the Beatles in their early days, including their Hamburg friends Astrid Kirchherr (who offers the memorable observation that they would have been popular even if they'd worn turbans) and Klaus Voormann; Best's brothers Rory and Roag; Beatles road manager Neil Aspinall; and John Lennon's first wife, Cynthia Lennon. While there's no moving sound footage of the Beatles from this period, the two-hour film does use a wealth of vintage still photos, covering Pete's association with the group from the time he met them in his mother's basement club to his inglorious sacking in 1962, just as the Beatles secured their recording contract. There's also some very interesting (if brief) actual footage of Best from the 1960s, including a television spot in which he was interviewed with his mother.

However, there's also the sense that the documentary is something of an apologetic justification for the man who was dealt one of the worst breaks in the history of show business. The points are repeatedly made that Best was a good drummer, and vital to their rise both as a musician and via his moody image, which gave him great individual popularity as the Beatles established themselves in Liverpool. But Best's own nervous, shy demeanor throughout his interview segments doesn't convince the viewer that he was ever too c