Rockpile—Live at Montreux 1980

Rockpile—Live at Montreux 1980

Live at Montreux 1980—Rockpile was a band that was legendarily heralded for its live performances. It's difficult to find a review on Nick Lowe, Dave Edmunds, or Rockpile itself without the author mentioning something like that "I Knew the Bride" was butchered on record, but there was rarely any commercial recourse for the average fan to know the difference. Rockpile almost didn't have an album of its own, period—due to contract trifles, Rockpile (Lowe, Edmunds, Billy Bremner, Terry Williams) were forbidden from recording as they were. Instead, the band put out material on the individual albums of Lowe, the principal songwriter, and Edmunds, who favored rock and roll covers. However, this meant the two could not sing on each other's albums, and Bremner, the band's tertiary singer, rarely sung at all. This changed with Seconds of Pleasure (1980), which was a fine effort, but some complained that it ineffectively bottled the Rockpile sound.

As late as the 2000s, there were still few attainable Rockpile discs; the CD reissue of Seconds added the whole of the Nick Lowe & Dave Edmunds Sing the Everly Brothers EP and three live cuts, and at least five notable bootlegs appeared from 1979–1991. There also existed an Elvis cover performed with Robert Plant, oddly (see Concerts for the People of Kampuchea [1981]). Finally, in 2011, Eagle Records mercifully released Live at Montreux 1980—a full concert.

This particular show features a plurality of eight Edmunds selections (insofar that he sings them): Hank DeVito's "Sweet Little Lisa" and "Queen of Hearts" (later popularized by Juice Newton), friend Elvis Costello's "Girls Talk," Don Covay's "Three Time Loser," Graham Parker's "Crawlin' from the Wreckage," Chuck Berry's "Let It Rock," Dave Bartholomew's "I Hear You Knocking," and Otis Blackwell's "Let's Talk about Us," most of which take off in the live setting and are benefited by Bremner's friendly snarl. Bremner himself sings his own "Trouble Boys" and the Louisiana jaunt "You Ain't Nothing but Fine" (Semien/Soileau), and Lowe sings the remainder: his own "So It Goes," "I Knew the Bride," and "They Called It Rock," Pickett/Phillips' "Teacher Teacher," and Mickey Jupp's "Switchboard Susan." All three sing a great rendition of Jim Ford's "Ju Ju Man."

Unfortunately for Lowe fans, his moments are largely lackluster, though this is often because of poor sound recording; Lowe seems not to have been mic'd up correctly at times, mostly at the beginning of "So It Goes" and parts of "Teacher Teacher." The former also doesn't benefit from Edmunds' refrain, which highlights the somewhat perplexing nature of Lowe's difficult-to-replicate studio tricks. The saving grace is that "Switchboard Susan" is presented in probably its best incarnation anywhere—where Jupp's original and Lowe's Labour of Lust (1979) recording lacked a certain facility, it soars here. In truth, however, it's probably fortunate that the band left out lighter numbers like "(I Love the Sound of) Breaking Glass," "Heart," "When I Write the Book," and "Cruel to Be Kind," which didn't always flourish on stage.

Predictably, Live at Montreux 1980 feels slightly excessive, especially during long sections of Edmunds' vestigial rock-around-the-clock fantasies, but taken for what it is, it's a mostly great show. The set might have been better with "Born Fighter," "Heart of the City," or "Love So Fine" in the places of others, but as it is, it's a package that was worth the wait.

Bob Dylan—Self Portrait

Bob Dylan—Self Portrait

Self Portrait—The first phase of Bob Dylan's early career—1962–1978, for the purpose of this writing—was marked with a number of controversial periods. From 1963–1964 (The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan and The Times They Are a-Changin'), Dylan became an unwitting spokesman for liberal values and civil rights, most notably for his song "Blowin' in the Wind." When he decided he'd rather sing songs of a more basic and personal nature (Another Side of Bob Dylan), he was met with scorn from his purist folk fanbase, who would become further begrudged with the release of the semi-electric Bringing It All Back Home and almost entirely electric Highway 61 Revisited (1965).

It seems ludicrous in 2015 to argue any one of these albums to be contentious. The vast majority of his '60s and '70s material is universally beloved, as is the man himself, now considered a living legend in not only music but pop culture and humankind itself. Even lesser works, such as Street Legal (1978), are treated as respectable efforts if not essential. There is one release from this era, however, that was received with ridicule upon its release and continues to be shunned by critics and outright ignored by fans: Self Portrait.

To be clear, this is not to say Dylan (1973) is not considered a far worse record, but Dylan was released under different circumstances. Dylan's recording had become sporadic from 1971–1972, resulting in only a handful of songs: two singles ("Watching the River Flow" and "George Jackson") and various others which were set to appear on Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Vol II (1972). Dylan, which was a mishmash of older outtakes (some incidentally taken from Self Portrait sessions), was seen for what it was: Columbia's self-determined attempt to milk Dylan's back pages (or perhaps a parting shot at Dylan for jumping ship to Asylum). Thus, Dylan is excused by historians as a dubious moment, undeserving of derision at least in regard to the artist.

The same cannot be said of Self Portrait. It's understandable that fans and critics would have been disappointed by its release in 1970. Until that point, they had come to expect an album of originals at an average rate of one per year, so when Dylan presented them with a double album of covers, outtakes, rehearsal cuts, and live recordings, it must have been a shock.

"There'd be crowds outside my house. And I said, 'Well, fuck it. I wish these people would just forget about me. I wanna do something they can't possibly like, they can't relate to. They'll see it, and they'll listen, and they'll say, 'Well, let's get on to the next person. He ain't sayin' it no more. He ain't givin' us what we want,' you know?"—Bob Dylan, 1984 interview by Kurt Loder for Rolling Stone 

It can't be said that Self Portrait is a lost classic, but its continued disdain through the years is unwarranted. There are four studio originals, which are all at least pleasant, though not earth-shattering: "All the Tired Horses," which is a rare Dylan album cut not featuring his singing, "Woogie Boogie," a basic instrumental, "Living the Blues," a vanilla blues as the title suggests, and the adequate single "Wigwam." Four other songs were recorded live at the 1969 Isle of Wight Festival, done in the style Dylan cultivated working with the Band: "She Belongs to Me," "Like a Rolling Stone," "The Mighty Quinn (Quinn the Eskimo)," which was at that time only known in its Manfred Mann incarnation, and "Minstrel Boy," which was then unreleased in any form (no relation to "The Minstrel Boy").

What remains are the covers. The funny thing about Self Portrait is the idea that it's not much of a self-portrait if Dylan isn't writing the majority of the songs, at least not in comparison to his usual fare, where he both writes and performs the material. Upon careful examination, however, it becomes apparent that the covers are great tools for examining Bob Dylan the performer—the recordings of songs composed by Dylan are presented with an overriding veneer of Dylan's reputation and whatever purported message the listener chooses to project onto them; when those things are stripped away, all that's left is the rock star. "I always wanted to be a guitar player and a singer. Since I was ten, eleven, or twelve, it was all that interested me. That was the only thing that I did that meant anything really," Dylan recalled when interviewed by Cameron Crowe for the box set Biograph (1985). Outside of his modest debut, Bob Dylan (1962), Self Portrait was the first time home listeners were treated to this side of the artist.

The performances have been criticized as desultory or meaningless, but that's purely a matter of perspective, as the same things have been touted concerning The Basement Tapes (1975; recorded '67–68), which is beloved for its laid-back ambiance and exploration of quaint Americana. Granted: The Basement Tapes was almost entirely penned by Dylan and the Band, but on the point of the music itself, the albums are principally similar. Moreover, Dylan's choice of covers is excellent: the Everly Brothers classic "Take a Message to Mary," Don Gibson's "Take Me as I Am (or Let Me Go)" (both penned by Boudleaux Bryant, the former with his wife Felice) and "Alberta" presented in two versions, and Cecil Null's "I Forgot More than You'll Ever Know," plus standards like "Blue Moon" and "Copper Kettle;" contemporaries Paul Simon ("The Boxer") and Gordon Lightfoot ("Early Mornin' Rain") are a pair of surprising inclusions.

Dylan remarked further in the Biograph liner notes, "I was being bootlegged at the time and a lot of stuff that was worse was appearing on bootleg records. So I just figured I'd put all this stuff together and put it out, my own bootleg record, so to speak. You know, if it actually had been a bootleg record, people probably would have sneaked around to buy it and played it for each other secretly," and he was absolutely correct, as evidenced by the success of the eleven volumes and counting Bootleg Series. Self Portrait is not a revelation, but as a collection of music, it can be a nice find for the seasoned listener.

Neil Young—Time Fades Away

Neil Young—Time Fades Away

Time Fades Away—Neil Young has written and recorded innumerable songs in his more than 50-year career. Counting live and soundtrack albums, as well as his compilations, which often feature until-then unreleased material, he has nearly recorded his age in albums. There are at least ten others that were rejected by his record labels or shelved by the artist in favor of others. Despite his apparent dissatisfaction with albums like Homegrown or Chrome Dreams that led him to relegate them to the archives, he generally lets the material itself eventually see the light of day on other releases or in live performances. Some of his albums are harder to find today than others; Trans (1982) has only been reissued twice on CD, and not for almost twenty years. However, there is one album that, since its initial release, has completely disappeared from the radar, and that album is Time Fades Away.

Harvest (1972) and the #1 single "Heart of Gold" took Young to true stardom. He famously remarked in the liner notes of Decade (1977), "This song put me in the middle of the road. Traveling there soon became a bore so I headed for the ditch. A rougher ride but I saw more interesting people there," which has led fans to refer to the three subsequent albums (Time Fades Away, On the Beach [1974], and Tonight's the Night [1975]) as "the Ditch Trilogy." These three albums also document a period in which life was rough for Young and his bandmates; most of them were abusing drugs and alcohol heavily, due in part to the grief associated with the deaths of Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten in November 1972 and roadie Bruce Berry in June 1973 from drug misuse. The majority of material that appears on Time Fades Away was recorded after Whitten's death, but shortly before Berry's, from a period of time February 11–April 1, 1973.

Young toured with the Stray Gators, a band that had evolved into a jumble of members of different groups: David Crosby, Graham Nash, Jack Nitszche, and members of Young's studio band from Harvest, but with new drummer Johnny Barbata, who replaced Kenny Buttrey mid-tour. The assembly of musicians coming in with different expectations and lifestyles resulted in friction concerning how the music was played onstage as well as compensation, and so Young only reluctantly released Time Fades Away in October the same year. He persistently remembered the tour so bitterly that he never once reissued the album until 2014 as part of a box set and as a download on his own music distribution service, Pono. Nevertheless, Time Fades Away has been an enduring part of Young's catalog, being widely bootlegged and pirated—the most taboo Neil Young album, if there is such a thing.

The rollicking "Time Fades Away" begins with the line, "Fourteen junkies/Too weak to work," possibly referencing the band and their associates themselves, reminiscent of "The Needle and the Damage Done." The song continues Young's long-standing relationship with time, nostalgia, and things lost ("Sugar Mountain," "Words (Between the Lines of Age)," "Old Man"), as he does on the lovely "Journey Through the Past," which makes its first official appearance after being a concert favorite for years already and the title of his 1972 film and accompanying soundtrack. "Yonder Stands the Sinner" is a sideways take on self-loathing; "L.A." is a subversive tribute or lampooning of the City of Angels, which, nota bene, is where Danny Whitten died. "Love in Mind" is the odd one out, dating from 1971 during Young's Journey Through the Past tour, documented more fully in the concert album Live at Massey Hall 1971 (2007), which was nearly released in place of Harvest.

"Don't Be Denied" is Young's statement on staying true in the face of adversity, obliquely referencing Led Zeppelin ("Well, all that glitters isn't gold/I know you've heard that story told"), which likely relates to Young's decision to refrain from reprising Harvest (Led Zeppelin's untitled fourth album and the song "Stairway to Heaven," which references the centuries-old proverb, were contemporary works). "The Bridge" is a minor but pleasing ballad that foreshadows Tonight's the Night. "Last Dance" is a ragged acknowledgement of everyday mundanity that, fittingly, usually closed the concerts or was played as an encore.

Though it's unfortunate that Neil Young had to suffer through the period of its recording dates, Time Fades Away is an engaging spectacle with some forgotten gems. It is a victory for fans that this music has recently become more available, giving them a fuller picture of one of the most rewarding stretches of Young's career.

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Live Seeds

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Live Seeds

Live Seeds—It makes sense, in a perverted way, that a band with a reputation for fantastic live shows would not have many live albums. If the energy put off by the band is tough to encapsulate, perhaps it does it better justice to simply leave it alone. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, and even predecessor the Birthday Party, released no live albums until 1994's Live Seeds. Of course, decision-making in these parts is often done by the label, who for whatever reason may have decided the Bad Seeds were not valuable in their live incarnation. Live Seeds doesn't radiate the quality of necessity like other live records—say, Nirvana's Unplugged in New York, which was unique for its vastly different arrangements and colorful selection of covers. Live Seeds is neither of those, but at the time, the Bad Seeds were making detours from their usual ferocious sound; The Good Son (1990) featured less rocking and more vibraphone, and Neil Young producer David Briggs gave Henry's Dream (1992) a questionably slick finish to even biters like "Jack the Ripper."

While Tender Prey often sounded more like a blueprint than an artistic statement, Live Seeds gives its songs a more developed, rounded coloration. Signature song "The Mercy Seat" has turned from a processional to an outburst in what may be its definitive recording, while Cave spits new ferocity on stalwart "Deanna." "New Morning," which once sounded like a drunken tribute, now positively sings with a sparser package, exhibiting just how sweet Cave's voice can be between screams. Dead ringer "The Ship Song" receives the same benefits, sounding less apprehensive without the bombast. Cave's and Blixa Bargeld's duet "The Weeping Song" sounds more natural; "The Good Son" instills the bloodthirstiness lacked by the album of the same name.

"John Finn's Wife," "Jack the Ripper," and even the weaker "Brother, My Cup Is Empty" are more explosive than they were on Henry's Dream, while "Papa Won't Leave You, Henry" and of course "Tupelo" prove they were meant for the stage. Amusingly, the iconic "From Her to Eternity" ends up being one of the least essential inclusions, neither complementing its studio incarnations nor supplanting them. Cover "Plain Gold Ring" is given a more dynamic working, falling a bit flat not because it doesn't gel with the Bad Seeds' style so much as it or probably any other version will never come close to Nina Simone's.

Live Seeds is aggravating at times because it feels as though these renditions should have characterized their original albums. However, for the listener, this is something of a welcome dilemma, offering a great snapshot of the Bad Seeds as they were at their '90s peak. Nick Cave compilations, given the insular nature of his proper albums, are ideologically questionable, but Live Seeds is a worthy catch-all and could even be a solid introduction to the band.