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October 30, 2007
* "to fly over the mountain, though i'm standing still...."
When a new live release from Karla Bonoff (titled, reasonably enough, Live) arrived in the mail recently, my first impulse wasn't to put its two discs into the CD player, but rather to pull out my tattered old vinyl copy of her 1977 self-titled solo debut and play that instead.
Such is the lifelong blessing and curse of artists who make a classic album right outta the gate. Think Marshall Crenshaw's self-titled debut; the Cowboy Junkies' The Trinity Session (though it wasn't technically their first); Willis Alan Ramsey's first (and, still, only) record .... all so extraordinary that the artists in question have spent the rest of their careers trying to live up to such auspicious beginnings.
Bonoff's debut was that good, and she's certainly well aware of it. She wrote eight of the record's ten songs, and all eight of those songs are among the 21 tracks on her new live disc. Clearly she's come to terms with the reality that her fan base still wants to hear all those songs, and when it comes down to it, that's a good thing. There are worse fates than having written an entire album's worth of material which stands the test of time three decades later.
The new live versions (recorded at shows in California and Japan) are quite pleasant; Bonoff remains in fine voice, even as she's inevitably tuned down a step for "If He's Ever Near" (and yet she still hits some majestic high notes on "Falling Star", my personal favorite from that first record). It's also fair to note that the other thirteen tracks are more than chopped liver; especially of note is "Wild Heart Of The Young", the title track to her 1981 album. Conspicuously absent from the live collection is her lone top-40 hit, 1982's "Personally", but that's just fine by me, as that song always seemed a bit lightweight compared to the emotional depth and resonance of Bonoff's best work.
It's worth acknowledging that I probably never would have become familiar with Bonoff way back then if not for the influence of my older brother Si, who had a fair bit to do with the development of my musical tastes in those formative years. I may have listened to the album then in large part because Si played it and I just liked what I heard; but I'm struck all these years later by just how strong a record it really is, the kind of songwriter's statement that definitively proves an artist's worth, much like Lucinda Williams' self-titled 1988 record (indeed, Lucinda's "Like A Rose" from that album seems to echo "Rose In The Garden" from Bonoff's debut), or perhaps Iris DeMent's "Infamous Angel".
Bonoff never did become a big star -- in some ways, her greatest notoriety came from Linda Ronstadt having covered three of her debut album's songs on her 1976 blockbuster Hasten Down The Wind -- but she did seem to earn a reputation as one of the best singer-songwriters to come out of the 1970s SoCal scene. She certainly deserves that respect.
adios,
peter
Posted by Peter at 6:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
October 23, 2007
* "it's more than mind over matter, it's your body and soul..."
"Terry's finally gettin' me in over my head," read the note from Butch Hancock on the postcard that arrived late last week, forwarded from the old Poulsbo address. The card was an announcement of an exhibit of Hancock's artwork, curated by his longtime West Texas compadre Terry Allen, showing at the Cue Art Foundation in New York City.
Unfortunately the forwarding-delay caused the card to arrive on the very day (0ctober 18) of the exhibit's opening gala, which included a performance by Hancock and Allen; elsewise I'd have posted this in time to inform any NYC-ers who might be reading. Still, however, the exhibit continues through December 1, so there's still time to check out the visual art, if not the live music, of one of the 20th's century's great songwriters.
Except he doesn't really think of himself as a songwriter, which partly explains the existence of this exhibit. Digging back through my files to an old Butch Hancock feature story I wrote for the late, great Rocket biweekly in Seattle (when Grant was managing editor there), I came across a quote from Butch which I remembered well, as it has stayed with me through the years as a guidepost for my own understanding and perspective of artistry.
“I just look at it as all one whole thing that’s completely related,” Hancock answered when asked about the various ways his art manifests itself. “My drawings and my photos are completely intertwined, at least in my brain, with my songs. I don't look at myself as a songwriter, or as a musician, or as a photographer; those are just part of what I do. And if I’m a tractor driver one year, then I’m a tractor driver, but that’s just part of what I do.”
As I write this, playing in repeat-mode on the stereo is "Already Gone", one of Hancock's great extended epics, clocking in just shy of eight minutes. It appeared in the early '90s on Two Roads: Live In Australia, a duo release with Jimmie Dale Gilmore; but the version I'm listening to right now is newly recorded by the Philadelphia band John Train (formerly of the late great Philly indie label Record Cellar). It's on their new disc Mesopotamia Blues, which is dedicated to Hancock and Peter Case, and also includes a cover of a Terry Allen song, as it happens. The liner notes contain the following rumination from singer John Houlon about "Already Gone":
"When I first heard this tune, I was blown away. Still am. It is, I think, the best song that anyone wrote during and about the Reagan years. 'Already Gone' is a protest song and a love song. Of course, Butch says that all of his songs are protest songs ... even the love songs."
Sure sounds like something Butch would say, all right.
adios,
peter
Posted by Peter at 3:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
October 15, 2007
* "the shining spiral arms of the milky way..."
In my August 30 entry about the song "Killing The Blues", I mentioned longtime John Prine sideman Jason Wilber, who had recorded a fine version of that song on his 2004 album King For A Day. During our recent cross-country relocation from Washington state to North Carolina, I pulled out that disc, as well as his most recent record, 2006's Lazy Afternoon, which I believe we unfortunately didn't manage to review in our pages when it came out.
Following the old adage that it's better late than never, I'd like to weigh in on the worthiness of Lazy Afternoon -- particularly one song sporting the unusual name "Northern Lights Seen Over Lewisburg Tennessee". The title sounds like a newspaper headline and appears indeed to have been inspired by a real-life report, judging from this couplet in the song: "Aurora Borealis, Southern Tennessee/One in a million, I saw it on the TV."
It's where Wilber runs with the idea that results in magic. Lyrically, he uses the rare celestial event to illuminate the contradictory feelings of withdrawn alienation and wild-eyed wonder that lurk beneath the surface of a lonely young boy. Musically, this is adventurous stuff for Wilber; he takes the tune far beyond his usual singer-songwriter turf and into a rather jazz-inflected realm. The exploratory flights of pianist Kevin McKendree prove particularly moving.
Those piano excursions, in fact, led to revisiting a previously established cross-country-drive favorite, George Winston's "Northern Plains". It's on a disc titled All The Seasons Of George Winston that my wife brought into the marriage. To be honest, I'd never really thought much of, or listened much to, Winston's work prior to discovering this disc. I'd heard his resplendent rendition of Pachelbel's "Canon", sure, but beyond that I pretty much wrote off Winston and all his Windham Hill ilk as elevator fodder I needn't bother with.
I came to think differently three years ago when we made this cross-country relocation in the other direction. Somewhere around western Nebraska we put All The Seasons into the car deck, and almost instantly his piano playing seemed to be at one with the forever-reaching horizons of the landscape. It seemed fitting that the track which most perfectly suited the surroundings was titled "Northern Plains" -- almost certainly inspired by a trip through the very territory we were traveling through.
We're on the other side now, finally getting settled (thus my extended blog-absence these past few weeks, for which I request your understanding -- if you've moved recently, I'm sure you can dig it). With the stereo recently hooked up, I'm listening tonight, on repeat, to "Northern Lights Seen Over Lewisburg Tennessee", and drifting away into that great big black-and-bright sky....
adios,
peter
Posted by Peter at 6:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)