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I dropped by my local library a few days back and perused what few remaining LPs they had on the shelf. To my surprise, I ran across a copy of Tina Live in Europe that still bears the stamp that sparked the name of this page. There you have it folks. Always a good rule of thumb for record owners as we roll into summer.
Head on over to the always-impressive Captains Dead for a knockout 29-song collection of outtakes from McCartney's 1973 Red Rose Speedway LP. I can't find much in the way of information on this particular boot, but the fidelity, sequencing and selection of tunes is fantastic. A tip o' the hat to el Capitan.
I used to think that choosing a favorite Fela album was difficult, not because one stood out from the rest, but because in doing so you're indicating that the others weren't as good. Well, forget about all that. Afrodisiac is it. Better than Gentlemen, Expensive Shit, Zombie, He Miss Road. All of em. No political agenda here, no anger directed anywhere. Just classic hard, heavy Afro-funk, super tight horns, meticulous arrangements, completely indecipherable lyrics and some particularly impressive keyboard work. Fela at his best. Do you have a favorite? Let me know about it in the comments.
Collecting 1972's Life, Love and Faith, 1975's Southern Nights and 1978's Motion, as well as a bonus disc of a complete 1975 concert, The Complete Warner Recordings is the rare compilation that serves as both highlight reel and in-depth tutorial. To call Allen Toussaint "underrated" is both fitting and a slight understatement, as though his recorded output over the past 50 years has been incredible (for those who've been keeping track), he's best known as the writer of other people's hits. Glenn Campbell made "Southern Nights" his own in his 1977 album of the same name, Bonnie Raitt used "What is Success" as the centerpiece to her 1974 Streetlights LP and just about everyone has their own version of "Working in the Coal Mine." Looking back on his string of LPs for Warner/Reprise in the mid 70s though, it's amazing Toussaint didn't hit it big in his own right. The first of the bunch, Live, Love and Faith, overflows with hits, touches on tripped out funk and, though bordering on genre exercise, manages to hold together quite nicely, but his second LP for the label, Southern Nights, is the true masterpiece. Held together by the title track, sections of which weave in and out of the LP in ghostly apparitions, Southern Nights is a classic fusion of southern soul and tasteful psychedelia in the hands of a true master - impeccably arranged from end to end and fascinating through a set of headphones. Its follow up, Motion, doesn't quite move me as do its predecessors, but I'm sure it will eventually, so it's great to have on deck. Highlights of the live set include "Last Train" and "Southern Nights," but really, it's incredible all the way through to Toussaint's closing statements. A massive collection and one I've been planning on posting here for a long time. Enjoy it all. Go Saints.
By the latter half of the 70s, Neil Young had put his ditch days behind him, had Zuma'd up and down the California coast with Crazy Horse, and seemed pretty damn content with recording a string of laid back, though pretty inoffensive country rock LPs. Young's short run with The Ducks in the late summer of 1977 was all at once strange anomaly, a high water mark and a signpost marking a change of course. Comprised of Young, Moby Grape vocalist Bob Mosely, "Hey Hey, My My" co-author Jeff Blackburn and sometime session man Johnny Craviotto, The Ducks were quite possibly the most popular townie bar band of all time, as Young's contractual obligations with Crazy Horse specified he could only tour with them, forcing The Ducks to play all of their 22 gigs within the Santa Cruz city limits. Loaded with songwriters, the band's setlists were comprised of original material, a few tunes from each member's back catalog and a handful of covers. The shows were tight, Young seemed to enjoy his supporting role, and, in the beginning, the crowds were enthusiastic if a little awed at their strange fortune. After a few weeks the hordes of out of towners hoping to hear some classic Neil Young tunes grew exponentially, and with its secret out, Young left the group less than two months after its first gig. And though a mobile recording rig was often spotted outside the club for most of the shows, this unofficial, surprisingly clear fan recording is the only aural evidence in circulation. I'm not sure why the cover says "Part 1," but this 215MB download includes the show in its entirety. Enjoy.
Sad news out of Louisiana as swamp rock master and author of the lovely "Walking to New Orleans," Bobby Charles has died at 71. It's been a couple of years since we wrote about his 1972 self-titled LP here at the Heat Warps, and if you're anything like me you'll want to give it a spin today. Grab yourself a copy in case you missed it the first time around.
Known as The Who Sings My Generation here in the US and simply, boldly, My Generation on the band's home turf, it's damn near criminal how seldom the Who's '65 debut is listed among the all-time greats. A mere 3 of the album's 13 tracks are absolutely smoking R&B covers, a ratio which was still a rarity (take the Kinks' half and half ratio of their own debut for instance), while the remainder are classic Pete Townshend originals with such air-tight composition and delivered with such brutal potency it takes an immediate second spin to soak in what just slapped you across the face. Townshend famously said that Quadrophenia, the band's sprawling, unwieldy 1973 epic came as close to mirroring the Who's onstage ferocity as anything that came before it. I respectfully disagree. This 2002 Deluxe Edition ups the ante with a second disc of alternates, instrumentals, full-length and acapella (hey, why not) versions, but the real draw is the impeccable remastering of the original LP. Taken from the 3 track masters and offered here in true stereo for the first time, the album has noticeable variations from previous versions, including missing guitar overdubs and vocal harmonies which were added on top of the original mono mix. If you're a purist, go ahead and wrap your ears around the $1300 Brunswick first pressing you just scored on ebay. If you just want to hear a recording of the World's Greatest Rock & Roll band that sounds as if it were laid to tape last week, step right this way.
Note: Looks like the folks at PBS have decided to keep this video up indefinitely, so I'm re-posting in case you missed out the first time around.
Sharing many of the same qualities as Paul McCartney's first couple of post-Beatles LPs, especially those of the particularly brilliant Ram, Paul Simon's 1972 solo record maintains its homemade subtlety and deceptive simplicity 38 years and a million plus shifted units later. He dips a toe into reggae and afro pop 14 years before he'd dive head-first into it on Graceland, and even pulls in a couple of Miles' boys (Airto Moreira and Ron Carter) on a number of tracks, but the album never feels like a genre exercise thanks to a songwriter at the peak of his career paired with production that makes the whole affair sound effortless, intimate and perfectly flawed. I've steered clear of Simon, Garfunkel and Simon and Garfunkel, territory my entire life. Who knows why I decided to change course this late in the game is beyond me, though I'm glad I did. This album features a couple of huge hits in "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" and "Mother and Child Reunion", though it's even better hearing them in context. It all fits.
News has been floating around for months about the multi-disc reissue of one of my all-time favorite LPs, Spiritualized 1997 epic Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space. The set includes two extra discs full of demos, a cappella and alternate versions -- including a version of Cop Shoot Cop with the subtitle of "Dr. John's National Anthem", which I imagine will be worth the cost of admission alone. Re-mixed artwork (above) as well as a recreation of the album's original blister-pack design that features each track in easily digestible 3" compact discs almost has my interest piqued enough to re-purchase an album in an antiquated format. Here's hoping it eventually makes its way to vinyl.
While touring across Europe in the early 70s, the Beach Boys rolled in to their date in Holland several hours behind schedule. Arriving at dawn for a concert scheduled the previous evening, the band was amazed to discover not only that the entire crowd was still in attendance, but that they cheered louder for the band’s new material than their 60s hits. So when the time came to choose a destination other than California for recording their new LP, the choice was easy. Picking up where 1971’s Surf’s Up left off, Holland is a densely orchestrated and painstakingly recorded album by a band in the twilight of their career. Sadly, Brian Wilson’s impact here is limited -- his only contributions are the album’s opening and closing tracks, as well as the completely bizarre storybook EP Mt. Vernon and Fairway, included with first pressings of the LP and included here as bonus tracks. Thankfully, the rest of the band really steps up to make this a highlight of the band’s otherwise spotty mid 70s output. For those who've enjoyed Pacific Ocean Blue and Bamboo, Holland will be a real treat.
As time has worked to dull the pain of witnessing a band so desperately nipping at the heels of Sgt. Pepper, it has also allowed for a long overdue re-examination of the Rolling Stones' most misunderstood album. Aside from containing founding member Brian Jones' last worthwhile contributions as a Stone, Their Satanic Majesties Request also marked the last, and arguably the most significant shift for a band that would morph into the world's greatest over the course of its next three albums.
Because even one of the most adventurous albums of all time starts to sound "tame" after the 700th listen or so... Released as a companion disc to the 2006 reissue of Faust IV, this collection of Peel Sessions, alternate takes and full-length versions not only serves as revealing, if somewhat cockeyed look at the band's masterpiece, but holds its own against the actual album in terms of the way it still manages to sound light years ahead of its time. All told, this is hardly an odds n' sods collection. "Krautrock" is presented in its early Peel Sessions mix, which includes much of the same 7-minute psychedelic drone intro as the original but the ending features far more subdued drumming and percussion than the version that would appear on the album. The band's warped pop gems "Giggy Smile", "Sad Skinhead" and "Jennifer" are all given the "alt mix" treatment with the addition of a few stray textures that were trimmed before making it onto the LP. The unquestioned gem here however, is the unedited 10:32 version of "Just a Second (Starts Like That!)". An epic guitar head swirler which, in true Faust fashion, goes nowhere specific and everywhere else all at once. Even if you're not familiar with the original LP, this collection will turn you upside down and sideways.
If you've been following the goings on down here at The Heat Warps for any length of time, you've no doubt caught a whiff of our serious love of Herbie Hancock's 70s output. The man was simply unstoppable from 1969 on, dropping in on an occasional session with Miles, forming the backbone of what was essentially the house band for CTI in the early part of the decade and, of course, releasing a string of deep funk and daringly experimental LPs with not one, but two legendary combos. Whew. Just thinking about the man's schedule is taxing. And while 1973's Head Hunters was (and maybe still is) the greatest selling jazz LP of all time, to mark the year as any sort of creative peak is a serious misstep. Thrust, the immediate successor to Head Hunters, grooved even harder and tighter, while 1975's Man-Child piled on the guitars (3 to be exact) and went heavy on synths to merge heavy funk with Mwandishi-style headiness. Hell, even Stevie Wonder drops in to blow some harmonica on "Steppin' In It." It could be argued that, despite being overlooked in favor of its more popular an instantly accesable predecessors, Man-Child is the culmination of everything that made Hancock's 70s LPs so impressive. Intelligent songwriting, deep grooves, tasteful instrumentation and an unmatched cast of characters. There definitely a reason it's always finding its way back to the turntable.
God only knows why I passed up this record for so long. I urge you to not make the same mistake. James Ramey, or oddly "Baby Huey", was a giant at over 400 pounds. He was a young (26 at the time of this recording) heroin addict, a disciple of Curtis Mayfield and was dead before his only LP could be completed. Inspired by Sly Stone's psych-soul, Huey and the aptly-named Babysitters, forged a similar path in the late 60s Chicago club scene. But where Sly's pre-Riot funk could be uplifting, friendly even, Huey and the Babysitters' brew was a tad darker, more heady and without a doubt, some of the heaviest funk of the era. The band's live set grabbed the attention of Curtis Mayfield, who produced their debut and donated a few tracks of his own, "Mighty Mighty", "Runnin'" and the magnificent "Hard Times". At some point during the sessions, Huey suffered a fatal heart attack in a Chicago hotel, and though Mayfield and the band trudged on and finished the record, it failed to chart and was resigned to obscurity. Nearly 40 years on, The Living Legend remains an intensely vivid snapshot of a band and a singer with no rivals, flawlessly produced and tastefully dated. It's easy to dream how far out Huey and the band could've gone from here, but its hard to imagine they'd could ever top this.
Just in time for its 40th anniversary next week, the luckiest Beatles fan in the world is auctioning off their copy of the White Album No. 0000005. Notable, of course, for the fact that the Beatles themselves own(ed) copies 0000001 - 0000004. Some years ago, this album was taken into the collectors shop named 'Vinyl Revival Records' in Newbury, Berkshire, England by a musician (they did not disclose who) who had visited John in the flat that he shared with Yoko in late 1968 (that was owned by Ringo) at 34 Montague Square, Marylebone, London W.1. The musician saw a pile of White Albums on a table and asked for one. John readily agreed, but said 'Don't take No.1 - I want that'. Instead he took No. 5'.
The album then passed into the hands of Beatles specialist dealer 'Good Humour' who then sold it to its current owner who has now commissioned me to sell it on his behalf.
It's hard to fathom the meager success of Allen Toussaint when considering the incredible impact he's had on music over the past 40+ years. In fact, the title of this compilation might be more fitting with a question mark at the end, but that's just getting picky. Jokes aside, this collection of tracks from Toussaint's second LP (the first under his own name) and a few singles from his days on the Bell label is a stunning example of the man's ability to crank out classic after classic tune and one of the greatest single documents of Crescent City R&B every produced. And though he's looked upon fondly for his songwriting chops, Toussaint's fingerprints are all over records by Dr. John, the Meters, Lee Dorsey and famously, the Band's Rock of Ages LP, for which he arranged the horns. Just take a peek at the liner notes - he's everywhere. So hearing Toussaint's own records is like filling in a giant void, connecting the dots on your record collection and realizing there's a giant hole in it where his LPs should be sitting.
Herbie Hancock was all but unstoppable at the midway point of the 1970s. Following his tenure in Miles' great quintet through the latter half of the 1960s, working with the trumpeter to lay the groundwork for jazz-fusion at the turn of the decade, spacing out and stretching the groove beyond recognition with Mwandishi and pumping out some of the most refined, sophisticated funk of all time with Headhunters, Hancock was the master. It was all his turf. On Flood, the 1975 live album he recorded with the Headhunters lineup in (of all places) the Tokyo Sun Plaza, Hancock doesn't necessarily bring anything that he hasn't brought to record before, but featuring cuts from each of his previous three LPs - all of which are stone classics - the album serves as a Headhunters-era greatest hits that proves, yes, this band really was as good as it sounds on record. Chamelion and Watermelon Man, while great, lack the fire that only comes from having performed them a few too many times, so it's the tunes from Man Child and Thrust that really smoke here. Actual proof, indeed. This two-disc set runs a shade over 74 minutes, so burn it to a single, put it in the dash and enjoy those last few days of summer.
In celebration of the upcoming release of Everything that Happens Will Happen Today, and David Byrne's subsequent and sure to be mind-blowing supporting tour, now's the ideal time to revisit some live Talking Heads at the peak of their powers. Fans of The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads will recognize a lot of the material here, as that double disc set included a number of tracks from this remarkable FM broadcast. Still, it's amazing to hear the spectacle as it unfolded on this particular night. The lineup featured here is nearly identical to the one from the Stop Making Sense concert film, but thanks in large part to the wild lead guitar of Adrian Belew, this incarnation is slithery, less muscular and far more psychedelic than the one that would appear on screen a few years later. My favorites from this show are the selections from the then-recently released Remain In Light, but the reinterpretations of the band's earlier material are all pretty incredible as well. If there's been a better band in the past 30 years, it's certainly not on my radar.
