Ron Davies was born in Shreveport, Louisiana during the time his father, a country singer from Texarkana, was performing on the famed Louisiana Hayride. He spent his early years in the Texas/Oklahoma region before moving to Washington state, where his mother remarried. He was given his first guitar at the age of eleven, and immediately began writing his own songs. Influenced by the music of Lavern Baker, Hughey “Piano” Smith, Blind Lemon Jefferson, The Everly Brothers and the melodies of great songwriters like Boudleaux & Felice Bryant, Ron’s songs took on sophistication in composition that was uncommon for one of his age. By the time he was seventeen, he had written an album’s worth of stellar material for Seattle based, rock band, The Wailers, who had gained national attention for their instrumental hit, Tall Cool One.
At nineteen, Ron landed a publishing deal with Trident Records in San Francisco, where he met his friend and songwriting mentor, Tim Hardin. His unique singing and writing ability (referred to by Joan Baez as a cross between Bob Dylan and John Lennon) soon came to the attention of A&M record executives in Los Angeles, who signed him to record his debut album, Silent Song Through The Land. Produced by Chad Stewart and featuring Jim Keltner on drums and Leon Russell on piano, the record contained nine brilliantly written originals including Ron’s gritty, blues standard, It Ain’t Easy.
Though often mis-credited to Ray Davies of The Kinks, the song gained international fame when it was recorded by Three Dog Night and British pop singer, David Bowie, on his RCA album, Ziggy Stardust. Before long, Ron Davies’ songs were in demand and being recorded by artists like Joe Cocker, Helen Reddy, Dave Edmunds, Maria Muldaur, Long John Bauldrey, Merry Clayton, Steppenwolf’s John Kay and many others.
Tracks
1. It Ain't Easy - 3:30
2. What Life Must Be Like For Some - 2:26
3. Change - 2:51
4. Clown - 4:12
5. Silent Song Through The Land - 2:33
6. Yesterday Is All I Want - 2:46
7. Open Road, The Open Sky - 2:54
8. Lover And The Loved - 6:06
Words and Music by Ron Davies
Musicians
*Ron Davies - Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
*Mike Daesy - Lead Guitar
*Dimitri Callas - Lead Guitar
*Leon Russell - Piano
*Mike Lang - Piano
Larry Knechtel - Organ
*Chad Stuart - Bass
*Jim Keltner - Drums
*Vicki Davies - Harmony Vocals
*Doug Dilleard - Banjo, Mandolin
*Byron Berline - Banjo, Mandolin
*Merry Clayton - Background Voices
*Clydie King - Background Voices
*Venetta Fields - Background Voices
Some of the cream of Los Angeles's better roots rock players supported Guthrie on his first album of the 1970s, including Ry Cooder, Chris Ethridge, Richie Hayward, Doug Dillard, Clarence White, and Hoyt Axton. Occasionally, he went back to purer folk arrangements, with the banjo-driven instrumental title track and the cover of father Woody Guthrie's "Lay Down Little Doggies." But for the most part, it was in the newly emerging singer/songwriter mold, mellow yet committed.
While the results had Guthrie continue his process of more comfortably integrating contemporary rock into his music, it's also a little too low-energy on the whole in its mildly countrified singer/songwriter folk-rock. "Gabriel's Mother Hiway Ballad #16 Blues," "If You Would Just Drop By," and "I Want to Be Around" are all above average for the genre, but some of the other material was blander.
The highlight, actually, was one of the few non-originals, a cover of Bob Dylan's "Percy's Song" (which Dylan himself had not released at that point). Few have picked up on it, but it's one of the better Dylan interpretations, Guthrie's reading a fine vehicle for the slightly weary contemplation of the lengthy lyric, given a sympathetic light string arrangement.
by Richie Unterberger
Tracks
1. Introduction - 3:22
2. Fencepost Blues - 3:11
3. Gabriel's Mother's Highway Ballad #16 - 6:25
4. Washington County - 1:59
5. Valley To Pray - 2:46
6. Lay Down Little Doggies (Woody Guthrie) - 3:21
7. I Could Be Singing - 3:20
8. If You Would Just Drop By - 4:24
9. Percy's Song (Bob Dylan) - 4:58
10.I Want To Be Around - 2:46
All Music and Lyrics by Arlo Guthrie except where indicated
Shawn Phillips - somewhat maverick singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist of phenomenal talent and cult status - has remained an enigma of uncategorisable nature for the past 45 years. I've enjoyed some of his music enormously, found some of it challenging and exciting, and yet found other of his albums unaccountably bland and uninvolving or else impossible to get into.
The good guys at Talking Elephant doggedly continue their programme of Shawn Phillips reissues now with an album dating back to what many see as a career-high, the late 1970s - 1978, to be exact, although for some unaccountable reason this information is completely absent from the package. What can there be to be ashamed of? For it's a strong set, a stylish classical-oriented AOR opus with plenty of accomplished writing and playing, fulsome and capable orchestral arrangements.
Naturally, it's dated, in the good prog-rock sense, and some of its gestures might now seem overblown, but Shawn's vision is consistent and often more fascinatingly all-embracing than he's given credit for. There's much contrast here, with outright rock (I'm An American Child) set unashamedly alongside affectionate country-tinged romancer Good Evening Madam, massive orchestral driving funk (Julia's Letters), classical pretensions that wouldn't have sounded out of place on Future-Passed Moodies (the beautiful, lush pastel of Implications), florid orchestral chanson (Lament Pour L'Enfant Mort) and delicate pastoral balladry (Lady In Violet): a slightly out-of-kilter mix perhaps, with vocals that can border on the histrionic at times yet remaining in control, staying just the right side of pomp. Charming, and not a little frightening.
Transcendence is a curious artefact, in that it sounds both of its time and out of its time, and even listening to it today, more than a touch unearthly.
by David Kidman
Tracks
1. Take It Easy - 4:46
2. I'm An American Child (On A Nuclear Pile) - 4:26
3. Implications - 5:22
4. Lady In Violet - 5:09
5. Good Evening Madam - 2:31
6. Lament Pour L'enfant Mort - 5:50
7. Julia's Letters - 3:20
8. Motes Of Dust - 5:43
9. Ease Your Mind - 2:49
Music and Lyrics by Shawn Phillips except track #9 by Michael Kamen
Goliath was formed in 1969 when the Sons of Sound, Kicks and the XL's dissolved. The only problem was that there were 3 bass players, so one became the guitar play and the other a head shaking, screaming banshee front man (Charlie hope your ok with this, didn't mention sticking your head in the bass drum) The first incarnation was Steve Peters, drums, Bill Peters, bass, Ted Bennett, Hammond Organ, George "Charlie" Egy, front man, and George Phelps, guitar.
In a matter of a few months Ted left us and Paul "Doug" (the Golden Throat) Mason joined us on the Hammond B3. This was the line up that was involved with the songs on this CD. I must note with exception the guitar playing and singing on the version of Kentucky Roads was Joe Adams and Jim Kitchen. I swear there used to be another but I am getting old and I do like the song, though this version is a bit poppy for me.
We referred to ourselves as a run and jump band, the idea was that if we were very active and wild on stage no one would notice the lack of talent. I know...speak for yourself and I am, since I was just learning to ptay lead guitar. The truth of the matter was there were a few of us that thought it was a good idea to chug a bottle of Boones Farm before going on stage and believe me that loosened you up. That wasn't really mformaldehyde was it?
It was a lot of fun for me to listen to this CD, brought back found memories of growing up in the Midwest. I can't think about Goliath with out mentioning the farm where we practiced and partied, the old Cadillac we kept running with STP and Hank Cordell wherever you are. I have to thank Steve Peters; he taught me a lot about playing guitar, professionalism, showmanship and the finer art of Euker.
Doug, Charlie and I left and joined the Carnations which became Raven, We had a great time working with the outstanding horn section and I have to say those years were our most prolific in writing and performing of our careers. Doug and I still to this day get together and play and it is my fault not as often as we like. Charlie made it down to Atlanta from Detroit last year for a Raven reunion; sadly this year's reunion was postponed to illness.
The Peters brothers kept Goliath going through the 70's, notable players with them being Dave Graham, Joe Adams, Bob, Harris, Paul Bays, Frenchy Massinon, Dave Wood and Jim Kitchen. I am probably leaving some out for which I apologize.
I could go on reminiscing but it is probably more of a rambling, so enjoy the record and hopefully you will end up in a pile on the floor as we did at the end of our show.
by George Phelps, August 2009
Tracks
1. Taking Back Roads (Steve Peters) - 3:02
2. Chessboard Kings (Steve Peters, Paul "Doug" Mason) - 2:49
3. I Feel Like I'm Gonna Die (George "Charlie" Egy III) - 2:33
4. Kwak (George Phelps, Paul "Doug" Mason) - 6:19
5. Sunny Days (Paul "Doug" Mason) - 3:04
6. Kentucky Roads (George "Charlie" Egylll) - 3:00
7. Innocence Of My Mind (Steve Peters) - 3:04
8. In the Summertime (Paul "Doug" Mason) - 2:52
9. I Think It's Kind Of Nice (Steve Peters) - 2:32
10.Mother Rat (Steve Peters) - 2:32
11.Words (Paul "Doug" Mason) - 2:55
12.It's Your Land (Steve Peters) - 2:30
One of the most talented singer/songwriters of the late 1960s/early 1970s, Tim Buckley took the experimentation of the times to new musical heights, his all-too-brief career dazzling listeners with masterful mixtures of folk, psychedelia, jazz, avant garde, and funk.
In the spring and summer of 1968, Tim Buckley and band began a series of recording sessions for what-would then have been the follow-up to his 1967 album Goodbye And Hello. The direction for this particular album evolved midstream, and the initial session recordings were, for the most part, set aside.
While two tracks from these various 1968 sessions did end up being used on his 1968 album Happy Sad, the remainder of the recordings ended up not being used on anything at all. The complete sessions themselves seem to have disappeared, but the best of them had been set aside on compilation reels which were filed away decades ago, forgotten until their discovery a few years back.
Tim Buckley’s Works In Progress is a 16-track collection of the surviving recordings from these 1968 studio sessions, along with one survivor from a 1967 session. All tracks, except those two which ended up more or less intact on Happy Sad, are previously unreleased. And, because each and every track on this compact disc was remixed from the original multitracks in August 1999, even those two later-released tracks have never before sounded so good.
While many of the song titles will be very familiar to fans, the versions on Works In Progress will certainly not be. In addition to showcasing two compositions which have never before been released, most every other track contains lyrics, or verses, which appear only in the versions from these 1968 sessions. There are studio recordings of songs which have only previously been released as live recordings, and versions of Buckley favorites which you can hear transform from session to session.
Altogether, Works In Progress offers astounding insight into the unique creative process, and the irreplaceable genius, of both Tim Buckley the writer and Tim Buckley the performer.
by Michael Goldberg, May 21, 2001
Tracks
1. Danang - 6:31
2. Sing A Song For You - 5:44
3. Buzzin' Fly - 6:44
4. Song To The Siren (Larry Beckett, Tim Buckley) - 3:28
5. Happy Time - 3:14
6. Sing A Song For You - 2:40
7. Chase The Blues Away - 4:01
8. Hi Lily Hi Lo (Bronislau Kaper, Helen Deutsch) - 3:37
9. Buzzin' Fly - 5:07
10.Wayfaring Stranger (Take 4) (Traditional) - 4:24
11.Ashbury Park (Version 1) - 2:47
12.Ashbury Park (Version 2) - 3:22
13.Ashbury Park (Version 2 Take 25) - 3:28
14.Dream Letter - 5:13
15.The Father Song - 2:45
16.The Fiddler - 3:26
All compositions by Tim Buckley except where indicated
Personnel
*Tim Buckley - Vocals, 12 String Guitar
*Lee Underwood - Guitar
*Carter Collins - Congas, Bells
*Jim Fielder, Eddie Hoh, John David Miller - Bass
*Don Randi - Piano
*Jerry Yester - Piano
Zing! Indeed, most scientific surveys of the international state of the male member seem to indicate that white folk aren’t quite packing heat downstairs. Sure, most scientific surveys of penis size will have dubious results because men are terrible liars, and convincing heaps of them to take off their pants for science is fairly difficult.
It’s studies like this that contribute to the reputation white guys have – perhaps not so unfairly – for being doofuses who can’t jump, dance, or make red hot passionate love. And this view permeates music; if you’re aiming to get down and messy, you’re a little more likely to put on Marvin Gaye’s brilliant Let’s Get It On than Phil Collins’ brilliant-for-different reasons No Jacket Required. (Although if the sound of sexy Phil singing Sussudio makes your chest flush red and your breath get heavy, all power to you).
But there’s one frizzy-haired honky who could definitely pull his weight when it comes to music written between the sheets. With the high cheek bones and refined good looks that would later be seen in his son Jeff, Tim Buckley was that honky. He was totally white – both physically, and for much of his career, culturally – but he could get as hot as Gaye and as wild as Hendrix. He showed the music world that black or white, we all bleed red, and that red blood pumps down to where it counts in the same way for everyone.
With Greetings From LA, Tim is pure sex – cheating and slutting and thrusting his way through seven soul rock numbers. And, at the time, it was a shock. Before Greetings... Tim was a folkie through and through. Sure, he was a little more attractively esoteric, and he was far more willing to mix up his influences than others. But listening to his debut self-titled album – on which he sings sad, innocent, wide-eyed, restrained folk-pop numbers – it’s difficult to imagine he would come out with an album like Greetings….
But we’re all the better for it because he did. While his early albums are extremely attractive thanks to his beautiful, nigh-operatic, earnest vocals, it’s when he gets his groove on that the brilliance of Buckley comes through.
On the opening track, Move With Me, you know it’s on. It’s really fucking on. It’s funked-up, it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a little bit ugly, it’s dirty. And it’s spectacular. When Tim sings the opening lines
I went down to the meat rack tavern
And found myself a big ol’ healthy girl
Now she was drinkin’ alone
Aw, what a waste of sin
he pumps the words out with a confidence and lusty zeal that no one had heard from him before. It was a revelation. And more than 30 years after it was released, it still is.
Things don’t stop there. The album just gets better. On Sweet Surrender, he explains his predilection for infidelity with notably sleazy self-satisfaction
Now you wanna’ know the reason
Why I cheated on you
Well, I had to be the hunter again
This little man had to try
To make love feel new again.
It’s less an exclamation than a proclamation. He’s going to get his, and he doesn’t care who it hurts. It’s brutal, but he’s putting it out there, and his libido evidently won’t be restrained.
By the time he gets to the album closer, Make It Right, he’s embraced his desires with a relish rarely seen in music. ‘Come on and beat me, whip me, spank me,’ he begs, ‘mama, make it right again.’ Yeah, it’s still on.
Only Nighthawkin’ steers away from sex, but the music doesn’t seem to have noticed the thematic adjustment. It’s still hot, and it’s still heavy, and those guitars are still pumping and the horns are still blowing. Tim talks about a drunk holding a knife to his throat, and for a second, you can see hormones are still on his mind, as he sings as if the rush of near-violence isn’t any different to the rush to orgasm.
Every track is a winner, but it’s Get On Top where Tim really shows us how it’s going to go down. With a killer riff kicking things off, the funk gets so heavy it almost hurts. Imagine the shock when Tim’s folkie fans – used to romantic ballads and tales of broken hearts – listened to a man in the throes of musical ecstasy, reciting a chorus of ‘Get on top of me woman’ – a breath – ‘I just wanna’ see what you learned.’
There it is, right there. Not too slow and not too fast. And it almost hurts because it’s so good. That’s Greetings From LA, and that’s the best album the brilliant Tim Buckley ever produced.
by Anton S. Trees, 14 January 2005
Tracks
1. Move With Me (Tim Buckley, Jerry Goldstein) - 4:52
2. Get On Top - 6:32
3. Sweet Surrender - 6:46
4. Nighthawkin' - 3:22
5. Devil Eyes - 6:50
6. Hong Kong Bar (Tim Buckley, Joe Falsia) - 6:57
7. Make It Right (Tim Buckley, Larry Beckett, Joe Falsia, Jerry Goldstein) - 4:21
Words and Music by Tim Buckley except where stated
'Starsailor' is a work of a man with a unique artistic vision. Nothing else has ever sounded quite like this album, even bearing in mind the other albums Tim Buckley himself released. 'Starsailor' has jazz based backings and rhythms, but they are so very loose. It's a good way to be, Tim floats over the top, often with wordless vocal refrains and he certainly isn't sticking to any kind of structure. The lyrics are mysterious, possibly without any meaning to anybody except that they had meaning to Tim himself - but that's to underestimate them.
There aren't that many words here, by the way - but the phrases come out at you. "You caught me staring / so gently he teased me", for example - the opening line of the startling 'Come Here Woman'. It's avant garde jazz, then more purposeful, moving off into a real funky riff repeated and repeated - then goes off into freeform jazz groove. 'I Woke Up' is weary sounding, harrowing - like somebody presiding over the death of somebody close to them, reflecting upon it - or reflecting upon a huge wealth of sadness present in this world.
For contrast, 'Monterey' is fast and striking and purposeful. Energy right next to beautiful contemplation, or at least, ugly beautiful thoughts and reflection. 'Moulin Rouge' moves along with French words, and French words sung by Tim Buckley sound impossibly beautiful. Especially married to this happy, jaunty little melody. After the relative starkness and/or darkness of the earlier songs on this album, 'Moulin Rouge' is perfectly placed to change your emotions, to add to the overall emotion the album can provide a listener.
'Song To The Siren', most famously, has been sung by Elizabeth Frazer of The Cocteau Twins - she sang the song and did it justice and it was a performance rightly remembered right to this day. I'd never heard the original, this Tim Buckley version. All I can say is, it's so beautiful, the music so bare, a single guitar playing about five notes every ten seconds, or so.
Female backing vocals are present in places, but in so few places.... used just right. 'Song To The Siren' is a vocal melody, an impossibly beautiful one, wonderfully sang. Real emotion, "All my heart, all my heart - shies from the sorrow" sings Tim, and I can associate with that. "I'm as puzzled as a new born child" - the world is confusing, and 'Song To The Siren' transcends the ages, a song to live forever. A bass guitar is noticeable during 'Jungle Fire' but it has a hard time following 'Song To The Siren'. Tim really does wail and let himself free, vocally, all through the track. This isn't singing, it's vocal expression, wordless vocal expression at that. As the band begin to cook up a groove behind him... the effect becomes excitingly striking.
For the title song, voices appear layered over each other, ghostly and disturbing. It sounds like insanity, a true journey into somebodys soul without any words being expressed, although the word 'fields' can be made out at a certain point. Such a song was never likely to be played on the radio and it's a difficult song to listen to. Extremely difficult. However, 'The Healing Game' is a glorious jazz/rock assault with Tim weaving a magical spell over the top and the closing song a funky jazz trumpet based number with Tim again, letting himself go, flying free.
by Adrian Denning
Tracks
1. Come Here Woman - 4:11
2. I Woke Up - 4:05
3. Monterey - 4:32
4. Moulin Rouge - 1:59
5. Song To The Siren - 3:28
6. Jungle Fire - 4:40
7. Starsailor (John Balkin, Larry Beckett, Tim Buckley) - 4:36
8. Healing Festival - 3:16
9. Down By The Borderline - 5:20
Music by Tim Buckley Lyrics by Larry Beckett except where indicated
Recorded in the midst of his most experimental and prolific time as an artist, Tim Buckley’s Lorca is the musical bridge between the loose jazzy troubadour stylings of the Blue Afternoon and Happy/Sad, and the haunted cosmic residue of Starsailor, the revolutionary 1970 record that follows.
Lorca is the axis in which the natural progression of Buckley as an artist rests. Recorded at the same time as Blue Afternoon, Lorca contains compositions that would not sit comfortably on that particular record. Instead, the project is filled out with time-period specific live tracks from Buckley’s 1969 residence at the Troubador.
Blue Afternoon felt to Buckley like a step backwards, regardless of its melodic strengths in comparison to Lorca. The recording becomes a fitting conglomerate of where Buckley had been and where he was going. Lorca’s collection of experimental music acts as the platform in which Buckley’s jazz-folk sensibilities begin to develop the free-form attitude later fully expressed in the strange and atmospheric Starsailor.
Named for the avant-garde poet Federico Garcia Lorca, the album begins with the loose 5/4 time of its title track. Lee Underwood’s ominous horror-soundtrack keyboards introduce a dramatic, rhythmless groove that’s gently pushed forward by a spectral pulse, initiated by Buckley’s acoustic plucks and a sliding, warm standup bass. The lacy spider web of a song trembles, moving through the listener as opposed to remaining accessible to the listener. Buckley’s voice is the central instrument, his mastery of tone drawing out the emotive quality of the title track. His ghostly vibrato and provocative moans paint a lush narrative, imbuing the lyrics with rich vibrant colors.
Gone is the pop music format embraced by the majority of Buckley’s contemporary songwriters, ushered in is his flowing high-tide framework of composition, where the melodies collide, brushing the shore and then dispersing into themselves in a wash of foam.
Lorca and the subsequent Starsailor have been accused by critics of being strange and self-indulgent. Ny reply is: When you are a developing artist of Buckley’s caliber, you create regardless of boundaries and preconceived ideas of what music should be. Lorca ought to be hailed for its innovations and reckless abandonment of labels and expectations. Buckley used his debated four-octave vocal range to act as another improvisational instrument. Similar to critics of Yoko Ono, these atmospheric and strange uses of the human vocal chords, stretched to their limit, are often puzzling to listeners confined by normal expectations and conventions.
The second track “Anonymous Proposition” uses tone color and resonance to express human emotion, sensitivity and eroticism through sound. Buoyant with silence and space, the song rises like the gentle breast of a beautiful woman in slumber. “Love me as if someday you’d hate me,” is the opening line of the song, vocally draped over the starry-night accompaniment. “Anonymous Proposition” is transparent, comprised of broken light dispersed through a vibrant stained glass window. Created by Underwood’s clean scurrying interjections and Balkin’s erratic woody bass bumps, the musi swirls into a sensual keyhole glimpse of aural eroticism. Buckley’s voice is soothing, mysterious, leading the musical changes as a central instrument, soothing the delicate emotions created by the hypothetical sonic union. This is powerful soul music, developed without pretense — art in the truest sense, designed to elicit response and pull out emotion.
The remainder of Lorca is made up of a series of three live tracks making their premiere appearances. Mixing in these songs with the album’s initial high-flying experimentalism was, alas, a misguided attempt at straddling accessibility. The fact is, Lorca was still entirely misunderstood by critics. The initial long-form movements reveal Buckley as he was quoted — “finally me, without influences.” The additional songs, while still powerful, harken back to Buckley’s folk roots yet still retain a loose forward-thinking experimentalism.
The moody and atmospheric “I Had a Talk with My Woman” returns to the traditional format of Buckley’s earlier compositions, with a melody easily grasped and an intimate narrative plainly expressed. “Driftin'” is an extended percussive mantra, wrapped around a sneaky Underwood guitar line. The ambiance of the live recording is seamless in the context of the record. Soft as bubblegum in the hot sun, the song stretches, pulling Buckley’s chiming twelve string in one direction, while slinking away melodically in another.
Lorca closes with the churning “Nobody Walkin,'” something similar in construction to 1969’s “Gypsy Woman.” The song is built around Buckley’s striding acoustic twelve strings, working in conjunction with Carter Collin’s thumping conga grooves. Underwood dresses the track in funky Fender Rhodes, while Buckley scats, raps, wails and moans in his recognizable style. As with the rest the album, this loose organic approach is addicting. The music feels unique from the moment of creation. There is no pretentious artist act going on here, just pure unadulterated music in the form of a heart song. Buckley searches the vocal spectrum, ranging from his guttural quivering moans to glass cutting falsettos, and the album LP fades with his free-form excursions fading to black.
Lorca remains a musical snapshot of an artist in flux, a musical genius finding his voice and creating an identity. The record is evidence of Buckley’s refusal to confirm to previously accepted musical forms. His career would end up leaving the avant-garde experiments developed on Lorca behind, while embracing numerous forms for funk, soul and vocal soundscapes on future releases. But Buckley’s constant searches for greater and stranger ways of expression, in addition to his fearless sonic manipulations, come to full fruition on Lorca. It is a project that captures the best of two musical worlds (folk and avant garde) that Buckley clearly hoped would collide.
by Stephen Lewis
Tracks
1. Lorca - 9:56
2. Anonymous Proposition - 7:47
3. I Had A Talk With My Woman - 5:59
4. Driftin' - 8:10
5. Nobody Walkin' - 7:38
All compositions by Tim Buckley
Musicians
*Tim Buckley - 12 String Acoustic Guitar, Vocals
*Lee Underwood - Electric Guitar, Electric Piano
*John Balkin - Upright Bass, Fender Bass, Pipe Organ
*Carter Collins - Congas
Although it's not often recognised as one of his best, Blue Afternoon is an amazing album. Style-wise it continues along the same vein as Happy Sad, but ventures a little deeper into the blues.
It has been said that this album was a bit of a let down after the previous three, this is something we cant disagree with strongly enough. Granted it is not as experimental or groundbreaking as Lorca (which was actually recorded before this) but it is outstanding none the less.
So deep and chilled, definitely one for a lazy winter night by the fire. It is a pretty moody collection of tunes, Happy Time being as close as it gets to cheerful, but then Tim Buckley's not usually what you would call jubilant. Chase The Blues Away and Café are both hauntingly beautiful stand out tracks, as are the lighter, jazzier, vibe accompanied songs - I Must Have Been Blind and The River. If I could only own one Tim Buckley album it would have to be a coin flip between this and Happy Sad.
Naldertown,2005
Tracks
1. Happy Time - 3:16
2. Chase The Blues Away - 5:14
3. I Must Have Been Blind - 3:45
4. The River - 5:47
5. So Lonely - 3:30
6. Cafe - 5:27
7. Blue Melody - 4:54
8. The Train - 7:55
All songs by Tim Buckley
Personnel
*Tim Buckley - 12 String Guitar, Vocals
*Lee Underwood - Guitar, Piano
*Steve Khan - Guitar
*David Friedman - Vibes
*John Miller – Acoustic, Electric Bass
*Jimmy Madison - Drums
*Carter C.C. Collins - Congas
Tim Buckley’s father was a decorated second World War veteran whose parents immigrated from Cork. His mother Elaine was Italian-American and both were fond of feeding their beloved son music. He was nurtured by it, fed all the finest works by all the greatest singers and encouraged every step of the way to follow in their footsteps should he so desire.
The shape-shifting genius of his mid-career high was reflective of his unencumbered meanderings as a child. He had the world at his feet and he was free to roam.
The family’s shared love of music was the glue that held them together, but there were deep fissures too. For all the light he was pointed towards, an unshakable darkness seem to shadow his every move from the get -go.
Some would say he was blessed and others, cursed.
His ticket to ride was issued young and the freedom he enjoyed instilled a restlessness and taste for experimentation that would yield some extraordinary music, but also precipitate his tragic early demise from a heroin overdose in 1975.
His prodigious talent with the guitar and multi-octave voice drew other musicians to him, and by his late teens he had assembled a troupe that would include a lifelong collaborator in guitarist Lee Underwood.
He was still only 20 when his breakout second album Goodbye and Hello was released. The jazz inflections, the poetry and the songs in different timings were strong hints that the maverick soul was already finding its expression. But there was more and better to come.
The year of 1969 was a good one to be living out any sort of dream.
Tim Buckley’s template for his third LP was founded on reveries of new colours and possibilities. It was where his skills at using his voice as an instrument reached its apogee. The full range from baritone to high falsetto was given free reign. When the orchestrated beauty of the sound conspired to match it word for word, pure magic emerged.
The soaring Buzzin’ Fly was the record’s peak and one of Buckley’s finest moments. It was a paen to the power of love. It would take a hardened heart to deny that he didn’t mean every word. Hearts were burning at a great height for all to see.
by Donal Dineen
Tracks
1. Strange Feelin' - 7:40
2. Buzzin' Fly - 6:02
3. Love From Room 109 At The Islander (On Pacific Coast Highway) - 10:49
4. Dream Letter - 5:12
5. Gypsy Woman - 12:19
6. Sing A Song For You - 2:40
Music and Lyrics by Tim Buckley
