Showing posts with label Elton John. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elton John. Show all posts

Monday, July 13, 2015

I'd Love to Turn You On #133 - Long John Baldry - It Ain't Easy


The concept of British blues and R&B is now so fundamental to rock & roll history that one needs to take a step back to realize how strange it all is. Before The Yardbirds and Rolling Stones gave a rougher edge to the British Invasion, and well before Led Zeppelin took it all to stadiums, young Brits obsessing over the music of black America was pretty much an underground phenomena. John Baldry was but a teenager when he started playing the blues in the 50s. He grew up to be well over six and a half feet tall, earning the nickname Long John, and the scene began to grow as well. Many of the blues groups Baldry played with included soon-to-be superstars such as Rod Stewart, who sang with Long John Baldry and His Hoochie Coochie Men. Bluesology, formed by Baldry in 1966, had a young keyboard player named Reg Dwight who would later take his own stage name from two of his bandmates, sax player Elton Dean and Baldry himself, to become Elton John. Baldry found his own first taste of success not with the blues but with smooth pop tunes. But he returned to his first musical love with 1971's excellent It Ain't Easy, an album produced by two of his now famous ex-sidemen, Rod Stewart and Elton John.

image: longjohnbaldry.com/
Stewart and John did not actually produce the album together but took the reins for one side each. As a result, the album's two sides have their own personality reflective of the producers, yet it's Baldry's charismatic vocals that carry throughout and make the album whole. Rod gets side one and mixes up the acoustic folk/blues of his solo records with the amped up blooze rock of The Faces. Opener "Conditional Discharge" finds Baldry telling a humorous tale, over rollicking piano, of getting busted for busking in London. What the story manages to get across is just how alien the blues must have sounded to the majority of Britons in the mid-50s. It all leads up to the rocking stomp of "Don't Try to Lay No Boogie Woogie On the King of Rock & Roll." This manages to be an awesome slice of heavy blues-based rock without descending into over-the-top parody and Baldry belts out the vocals like the bad-ass boss he is. We next shift into acoustic blues with a great take on "Black Girl" by Baldry's hero Leadbelly. This song has become a classic blues standard often going by alternate titles such as "In the Pines" and "Where Did You Sleep Last Night." It's a long road from Leadbelly to Nirvana and Baldry's soulful rendition is as good as any of the better known. The choice of material is excellent throughout as Stewart and Baldry turn to country singer Ron Davies for the album's title track. It's not a stretch to say that it's this version that David Bowie covered a year later on Ziggy Stardust. The album's quietest moment comes with "Morning, Morning" a lovely folk song penned by Tuli Kupferberg of The Fugs. Then it's back to electric rock and roll for a raucous run through Willie Dixon's blues standard "I'm Ready," closing out the Stewart portion of the album.

image: www.nickelinthemachine.com/
Elton John's side is more polished and in line with the great albums he was producing in the early 70s. But make no mistake, this is still Baldry's show and he puts his distinctive stamp on these four tunes. He gives a sinister edge to Randy Newman's "Let's Burn Down the Cornfield" then transitioning to a moving, emotional vocal on "Mr. Rubin," a song penned by singer Lesley Duncan. John provides one of his own songs, co-written with Bernie Taupin of course, and Baldry makes the most of the excellent "Rock Me When He's Gone." His vocals incorporate elements of gospel, soul, and blues and the arrangement is top notch. John and Taupin were cranking out brilliant pop songs at an exceptional rate at this time. It shows how much respect Elton had for his former employer that he gave him one of the very best. Ironically the album concludes on the Elton side with a song co-written and originally sung by Rod Stewart, The Faces' "Flying." And as great as the original is, Baldry just owns this. His vocal soars with passion and soul while the backing band and vocalists compliment him, perfectly ending the album on a high mark. The CD reissue adds a generous selection of bonus tracks. There are alternate versions of album tracks but also some acoustic takes on blues classics, the best being Robert Johnson's immortal "Love in Vain."

It Ain't Easy finally gave Long John Baldry some exposure in America, the birthplace of the music he loved so dearly. However, he never gained the level of stardom of his friends and fellow musicians. He was an odd contradiction, a great singer of American music who nonetheless remained a quintessentially British character. This is best represented by the title of his follow up album Everything Stops for Tea, also produced by Stewart and John. He would continue to make music up until his death in 2005 and even developed a second career as a voiceover actor and announcer. It Ain't Easy remains his best-known work and a high water mark for the seemingly contradictory but ultimately inevitable genre of British blues.
            - Adam Reshotko

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Fables of the Reconstruction: Low-Hanging Fruit Pt. 4 - Gatefolds


If you really want to get into the spirit of Record Store Day, squeeze through the used aisles and pick up a few gatefolds. These oversized works of mass-produced art are the quintessential vinyl experience. They say you can’t roll a joint on a digital download. But you can eat an entire midnight munchies meal off of an open gatefold. And many of them are cheap cheap cheap. Some of my favorites were a mere $2.99. Like the three Carole King albums I own, Tapestry, Music, and Rhymes & Reasons. All together they cost me less than the price of a good sandwich, and they’re classic specimens, especially the latter two: great big pictures of Carole at a grand piano with her husky at her side and sunlight warming through the window; soft close-ups of her smiling and lost in thought. They’ve got a matte finish with a linen texture that feels nice on your fingers. It’s intimate, like you’re in Carole’s house and sipping tea as she sings to you. And I’m not ashamed to say I love Carole King, gatefold or no. I was a little kid when her music was everywhere and it couldn’t help but shape my mind and soul. “So Far Away” gets me every time, even when Johnny Rivers sings it, which he does quite well on Home Grown, his best, in my opinion. Here the guy who sang “Secret Agent Man” goes on a jag through sunny early 70s commune-esque spirituality. This record also comes in a gatefold. Another matte finish, faux linen, but with lots of pictures of Johnny with a bushy beard, smiling, in meadows full of tall grass and flowers. He sings the hell out of some of the best songs of that era – “Our Lady of the Well,” “Rock Me On the Water,” “Fire and Rain.” Just a gorgeous record.
            Some classic gatefolds don’t qualify as low-hanging fruit because they’re expensive, such as the Rolling Stones Their Satanic Majesties Request, arguably the greatest album cover of all time, at least for people who have taken a lot of acid. A 3D photo of the band in wizard costumes is not easily topped. Inside is a maze and a crazy collage. I got my copy for 70 bucks in Atlanta – the exact same pressing of the one I got for Christmas my junior year in high school, brand new in the shrink-wrap. Probably cost $10 back then. No, what we’re interested in here is art for the poor man: Santana’s Caravanserai – big orange sun over a dark blue sky and desert and camels, inside a gloriously blurry sunset over the ocean; Allman Brothers Eat A Peach – peaches and melons the size of truck beds on the front and back, opens to a vast panorama of Magic Mushroom Land; Mahavishnu Orchestra’s Visions of the Emerald Beyond – mirrored pyramids that rise lengthwise, up and down, one to sunrise, the other to night; Gentle Giant’s Acquiring the Taste looks like a tongue licking an ass until you open and see it’s just a delicious peach; and all those Yes covers by Roger Dean, especially Close To the Edge, which is their best musically, too (even if you hate Yes you should own a Yes/Roger Dean gatefold, it’s an obligation of the hobby). There are so many.





            And if a gatefold isn’t enough, there are double gatefolds, too, and gatefolds with inserts, booklets, and records that aren’t even gatefolds, they just have odd shapes, like The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys and Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory by Traffic, which have two corners cut out and the art is an optical illusion of a 3D box that looks very real if you stare at it long enough. This kind of super packaging is generally the domain of superstars like Elton John, Jefferson Airplane, Harry Nilsson, Joni Mitchell, artists with big budgets and a fondness for excess. After Nilsson Schmilsson, Nilsson was all gatefold for the rest of the 70s. Pussy Cats and Duit On Mon Dei are both triple folds with lyrics on one spread and on the other, collages of snapshots taken during the making of the album, both of which appear to have been outrageous parties. Mitchell uses the double gatefold for her underrated tour de force Mingus to give it more of an art book feel, with her paintings of Charles in fields of white with delicate lines of text here and there. But few can top Elton and the Airplane (and still qualify as low-hanging fruit). Their more elaborately packaged albums are like mixed-media happenings you can hold in your very hands. Elton’s albums have a Hollywood flair. Tumbleweed Connection comes with a twelve-page sepia-tone booklet full of 19th Century old West etchings - trains and riverboats and guns, shots of Elton and his band and lyricist brooding dramatically. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road folds out three ways like one of those reflective things people used to hold up across their chests to get a darker tan. All the lyrics are splayed across in all different colors and each one has its own little illustration, like those old time movie posters with drawings of the actors and the most dramatic scenes. And the whole concept of Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player is a night at the picture show. The cover shows a couple buying tickets at a theater with album’s title across the marquee. Inside, on the left panel, the song titles and album credits are laid out just like a movie poster, and on the right is a big picture of Elton holding his hand out like a stop sign. It’s all colorized and cool looking, and so are all the other photos in the booklet it opens up to. Page after page of groovy cool-colored pictures. It’s just a wonderful artifact. I think mine cost $4. And Jefferson Airplane. Volunteers and Bark: two of the best covers ever made, and both relatively inexpensive. Bark comes in a paper bag with JA printed on the front, just like the old A&P logo. Open it up and on the other side are freak-comic portraits of the band in thick-black ink. The bag is folded over a standard record cover with picture of a dead fish wrapped in paper and tied in string with a bow. And inside is a fold-open lyric sheet printed in red and black, and on the back is a list of things you can do with the bag. A long list and, as you might imagine, some of the suggestions are quite unusual. I love this record, even though it’s not the record I reach for when I want to really listen to the Jefferson Airplane (I play it when I want to hear early, very well done hard rock). When I want the Airplane in its fullest revolutionary glory, it’s gotta be Volunteers, a Woodstock-era masterpiece with the freakiest and coolest mega-gatefold of all times. It’s done up like a newspaper published in Mescaline Land, with phony stories and lots of pictures. It has so much going on, you can stare it for hours. And that’s really what the gatefold is all about – sitting and staring and listening, slowing down, paying attention, making an event out of a collection of music. And isn’t that precisely what we celebrate when we celebrate RSD?