Album and Reissue Roundup, 11/01/2019
Albums released on 11/01/2019 that I enjoyed:
Miranda Lambert—Wildcard
Wildcard underwhelmed me upon my first few listens, seeming a little flashy and slight. Returning to it after a spell, those are the qualities that charmed me. Arriving after the murky, sprawling The Weight Of These Wings, Wildcard is a defiant good time, fueled by sly experimentation in sounds: "Mess With My Head," for instance, is neo-New Wave as country-pop and "Locomotive" is piledriving hard rock.
The Mavericks—The Mavericks Play The Hits
The catch is, the hits aren't don't belong to the Mavericks. Instead, Raul Malo and crew run through eleven of their favorite songs, favoring 45s that would've filled up a jukebox in the 1960s and 1970s. It's not just country, not by a long shot--Martina McBride sits in for a version of the Marvin Gaye & Mary Wells duet "Once Upon A Time," there is some Elvis Presley and Don & Dewey--and the group widens their net just enough to rope in John Anderson's "Swingin'" and Bruce Springsteen's "Hungry Heart," both given readings suited for a roadhouse on a Saturday night. It's a blast.
Jeff Lynne's ELO—From Out Of Nowhere
From Out Of Nowhere is a loving, precise re-creation of late-70s ELO, undercut slightly by its airless digital production. Computers allow no room for accident and they often sound a bit crisp and clean, tendencies Jeff Lynne does nothing to combat here; if anything, his decision to play virtually every instrument accentuates the sharp contours of the production. Still, these songs are tuneful and convincingly lush, and if you don't listen too closely, the album can seem like outtakes from ELO's prime.
Hootie & The Blowfish—Imperfect Circle
I've warmed on Hootie & The Blowfish, thanks in no small part to the good cheer of Darius Rucker's solo career. Those high spirits are evident on Imperfect Circle, the band's first album in 14 years. The group makes no attempt to hide their age or their nostalgia, but they're not quite living in the past: they sound like a group of middleaged college buddies out for a good Saturday night, confident that their comfortable lives will still be there when they get home.
Reissues:
Nat King Cole—Hittin' The Ramp: The Early Years (1936-1943)
A major archival release, Hittin' The Ramp: The Early Years (1936-1943) rounds up all the existing recordings Nat King Cole made prior to signing to Capitol in 1944. Encompassing studio sessions, radio transcriptions, and private recordings, Hittin' The Ramp focuses on King's electrifying piano, a skill that was eventually overshadowed by his success as a crooner. Here, it's possible to hear Cole sharpen his vocal style, but it's the jumping, swinging instrumental interplay that makes this such an invigorating listen.
Jon Savage's 1969-1971: Rock Dreams On 45
It's a brilliant idea for a compilation: listening to album-oriented rock through the prism of the 45rpm single. To those wedded to the supremacy of the album, it might seem to sacrilege but the years between 1969 and 1971 were a weird, messy period where rock bands were grappling with the fallout of Sgt. Pepper but the youth marketplace was still oriented toward singles, so Savage's conceit carries convincing logic (it also mirrors the aesthetic he employed for his previous Ace compilations focusing on 1965-1968). Some of these bands were psychedelic holdovers, some became titans of the '70s, several are only known to hardcore collectors, but what matters is the overall picture Rock Dreams On 45 paints, and that portrait is loud, gnarly, mind-bending and surprising, even for those who believe they know this era well. (Plus, it's simply delightful to have a comp where the Velvet Underground is sandwiched between Alice Cooper and John Kongos.)
Bob Dylan—The Bootleg Series, Vol. 15: Travelin' Thru
The centerpiece of the fifteenth Bootleg Series is the session Bob Dylan held with Johnny Cash in Nashville in February 1969. Compared to the handful of John Wesley Harding and Nashville Skyline outtakes it's paired with, the Cash sessions feel loose and unstructured but their conversational nature charms.
R.E.M.—Monster [25th Anniversary Edition]
I've run hot and cold on Monster over the last quarter-century. At times, the record seemed bold and playful, at other times erratic and strained. At the moment, I'm tending to think I've underrated the album, but that could be because the 25th Anniversary Edition helps explain the album. Some of that is due to the existence of a new mix from Scott Litt, which strips away many of the gonzo guitar effects from Peter Buck and tweaks some of the arrangements and vocals. I'm not necessarily sold on the new mix--it sounds too dry to my ears--but it helps me appreciate the garishness of the original 1994 mix. Similarly, the demos--which are largely instrumental beds waiting for Michael Stipe's words and melodies--show the work that went into making R.E.M. not sound like R.E.M. on Monster. The live show is good, too.
Super Furry Animals—Guerilla [20th Anniversary]
Another album I underrated upon its original release, Super Furry Animals' third album is a glorious, weird fusion of psychedelia, electronica, and rock that still sounds twitchily futuristic. This deluxe edition replicates the handful of bonus tracks from the 2005 reissue and adds a ton of demos and rough mixes, whose presence tends to highlight the lush experimentalism of the final production.
The Doors—The Soft Parade [50th Anniversary Edition]
The latest in a long line of 50th Anniversary editions of Doors albums, The Soft Parade spills out over three discs. Robby Krieger couldn't help fiddling with some of the outtakes, adding guitar overdubs to three "Doors Only" mixes and having Robert DeLeo of Stone Temple Pilots add bass to three blues numbers sung by Ray Manzarek, who adopted the embarrassing pseudonym Screamin' Ray Daniels for his handful of cuts (including an early attempt at "Roadhouse Blues"). The highlight is "Rock Is Dead," an hour-long studio jam where Jim Morrison occasionally sounds like the precursor to Adam Sandler's Cajun Man.
Missed Opportunity:
The Rolling Stones—Let It Bleed [50th Anniversary]
Like the 50th Anniversary of Beggars Banquet before it, there is nothing unreleased on the 50th Anniversary edition of Let It Bleed: it's just a handsome set, containing mono and stereo mixes of the album you know by heart. I assume there are tangled business reasons behind the reluctance to dig into the Stones '60s vaults, but the lack of bonus material still smarts whenever a set like this gets released.
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