Monday, July 5, 2010

Chicago Transit Authority - Chicago Transit Authority

The recent phase around these parts really isn't complete without this band. They cranked out the epitome of soft rock in the 1970s and only got worse in the 80s. But they really didn't start that way.

In 1969 these guys debuted with a double album, all but unheard of at the time, or even now. It was no soft rock serving (though it had a few sprinkled in.) Under the guidance of manager/svengali Jim Guercio it fused the latin, jazz, and psychedelic influences of the time (a case can be made from this record alone that Terry Kath's chops were matched only by Hendrix) and created something that, if not entirely original, was certainly not commonplace. It rocked hard, and was often fearless (see the 15 minutes of Liberation or Free Form Guitar if you doubt me.)

This record was more or less constantly played on my stepfather's reel to reel deck in 1970/71 and as a 9 old kid I remember how difficult it was for me to comprehend all this coming from just one band, let alone from the same album.

They would make better pop with their second album (though curiously as severely edited, and thus more radio-friendly, movements from very long suites - a major bone of contention between the band and Guercio that led to a parting of ways in 78) and hone their soft rock niche over the coming years, but this first record was the most diverse and interesting they would ever produce.

amg:
Few debut albums can boast as consistently solid an effort as the self-titled Chicago Transit Authority (1969). Even fewer can claim to have enough material to fill out a double-disc affair. Although this long- player was ultimately the septet's first national exposure, the group was far from the proverbial "overnight sensation." Under the guise of the Big Thing, the group soon to be known as CTA had been honing its eclectic blend of jazz, classical, and straight-ahead rock & roll in and around the Windy City for several years. Their initial non-musical meeting occurred during a mid-February 1967 confab between the original combo at Walter Parazaider's apartment on the north side of Chi Town. Over a year later, Columbia Records staff producer James Guercio became a key supporter of the group, which he rechristened Chicago Transit Authority. In fairly short order the band relocated to the West Coast and began woodshedding the material that would comprise this title. In April of 1969, the dozen sides of Chicago Transit Authority unleashed a formidable and ultimately American musical experience. This included an unheralded synthesis of electric guitar wailin' rock & roll to more deeply rooted jazz influences and arrangements. This approach economized the finest of what the band had to offer — actually two highly stylized units that coexisted with remarkable singularity. On the one hand, listeners were presented with an incendiary rock & roll quartet of Terry Kath (lead guitar/vocals), Robert Lamm (keyboards/vocals), Peter Cetera (bass/vocals), and Danny Seraphine (drums). They were augmented by the equally aggressive power brass trio that included Lee Loughnane (trumpet/vocals), James Pankow (trombone), and the aforementioned Parazaider (woodwind/vocals). This fusion of rock with jazz would also yield some memorable pop sides and enthusiasts' favorites as well. Most notably, a quarter of the material on the double album — "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?," "Beginnings," "Questions 67 and 68," and the only cover on the project, Steve Winwood's "I'm a Man" — also scored as respective entries on the singles chart. The tight, infectious, and decidedly pop arrangements contrast with the piledriving blues-based rock of "Introduction" and "South California Purples" as well as the 15-plus minute extemporaneous free for all "Liberation." Even farther left of center are the experimental avant-garde "Free Form Guitar" and the politically intoned and emotive "Prologue, August 29, 1968" and "Someday (August 29, 1968).

Hear

A documentary was produced in 1970 by NBC - a sort of cinema verite look at the music industry through the life of a band. As it happened that band was Chicago just prior to the release of their second album. The doc just showed up on youtube last month and it's fascinating, both for its look at Chicago before they had become huge stars, and for the cultural window it provides. Plus Guercio is soooo damned young, skinny and serious. In 3 parts.



Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Josh Rouse - 1972

The softer side of the "Me" decade is running rampant in the Forest. The aging, macrobiotic, yoga-stretching inhabitants are waving their freak flags of mellowness. Strum on!

Josh Rouse is a fine singer songwriter. A couple of years back he hit the same phase our contributers have and produced this completely irony-free homage to that time and its music. It's gorgeous and was on regular rotation for me for a long time after its release. I sent it to the Curry yesterday to feed his habit (he'd never heard it) and found myself luxuriating in its beauty once again.

Though the music is pitch perfect, finding its foundation in the stylings of that era, its content is sometimes darker and often more intelligent than the standard fare upon which it's based.

No other artist has mined the 70's soft rock material so well without hedging his bet with the all too common smirk or the annoyingly requisite wink.

This really is a great record.

amg:

Josh Rouse's 1972 gives away the game in the first line of the first song, the exquisite title track, when he name-checks Carole King. The record is going back in time and it is going to have fun doing it. Rouse's records have always been highly literate and highly musical, but they have never been fun like this, and make no mistake, 1972 is a fun record. Rouse sounds as loose as a goose and the songs reflect that. Not always lyrically, as some of the songs touch on such non-fun subjects as loneliness, repression, and bitterness, but definitely musically. To that end, Brad Jones' production is spot-on perfect — not an instrument is out of place and the whole record has a jaunty bounce and a lush dreaminess. 1972 is coated with sonic goodness: fluttering strings, piping horns, cotton-candy sweet flutes, funky percussion, handclaps, and great backing vocals. Rouse and Jones find inspiration in all the right places: in the laid-back groove of Al Green, the California haze of Fleetwood Mac, the dreamy melancholia of Nick Drake, the sexy groove of Marvin Gaye, and the wordy lilt of Jackson Browne or James Taylor. The songs are the strongest batch Rouse has written yet. "Love Vibration" is the hit single; it has everything a hit single needs: musical hooks, lyrical hooks, vocal hooks, a smoldering sax solo (optional), and a groovy video. Other songs that are sure to be in heavy rotation are "James," a funky ballad that shows off Rouse's wonderful falsetto (as does "Comeback [Light Therapy]") and takes time for that most elusive creature, a good flute solo; "Under Your Charms," a sultry, sensual ballad that takes a potentially squirm-inducing subject and actually does it right, Marvin-style; and "Rise," a beautifully orchestrated epic that ends the record on a perfect note. 1972 should vault Rouse to the forefront of intelligent pop alongside kindred spirits like Joe Pernice and Kurt Wagner (of Lambchop). If you say you've heard a better pop record this year, you are lying.


And to my fellow Forest posters, most of whom are younger than I by a decade or so and have perhaps fewer memories of the original ride, these lyrics from the title track might speak to your current obsession:

We're going through some changes
hopin' for replacement
until we find,
a way out of this hole


Hear

Here's a nice stripped-down acoustic performance of Love Vibration.

Spirit - Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus [1970]

Along with a few other Forest denizens I recently turned two score years old, which apparently makes you reflect the fuck on your life and your entry into the world and what was going down at that point—if only to stave off the answer to the question at the other end of the spectrum. Suddenly you adore all of the soft rock of your youth. You hope it's just a short-lived phase, but you just don't know. The questions begin: "Are my Wings clipped? Is my America disappearing? Is my Steely resolve to be Grateful that I'm not Dead done, Dan?"

I think I'm going to pull out of it, but it's going to take a lot of Slayer and Jesus Lizard on the other end of this tunnel.


I've absolutely been obsessed with Spirit lately; they have been carrying me through the darker parts of the tunnel. I've long loved 1970 musically and Twelve Dreams Of Dr. Sardonicus is quite a stunning window into the psych-country-prog-metal-jazz-soul that encompasses the spirit of Spirit. I'm sure you are familiar with "I've Got a Line On You" and "Nature's Way", but their entire catalog bears investigating if you like what you hear here and are not already deep with the Spirit. I find this album to be pretty flawless other than the Kenny Logginsesque parts of "Animal Zoo", which mar an otherwise excellent tune. Randy California was definitely fond of studio chicanery, so cue this up on some cans and enjoy the details. "Love Has Found A Way" is a fine mindfuck and seems to be pretty advanced production-wise for the time. David Briggs is twisting the knobs and your mind on this one, as he did for Neil Young, Nick Cave, Alice Cooper and Royal Trux.

Apologies for becoming pedestrian, predictable and sappy in old age. Just to prove that I'm intolerable and cranky I think I'm going to keep harping on 1970 for a bit with a flurry of posts. Wait until you see the next one...it's a doooooozy. Quite frightening actually, at least initially, but please, stay with me.


Come bask in the heavenly Spirit


[Note: Trax 13-16 are bonuses from the 1996 reissue where this stems from. "Soldier" is intended to be the twelfth and final dream in the original release.]

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

America - Homecoming

The Forest's founder has, of late, developed a compulsive obsession with the "healing powers of 70s soft rock." We hope he'll recover his senses soon, but until then I offer him this.

Their lyrics were about as stupid as anything ever produced in that decade ("The heat was hot"?! - Christ!), but their music - their bouncy, jaunty, wistfully optimistic music - could be pretty damned memorable. These three guys spent much of their youths overseas as army brats. That experience seems to have weasled its way into their melodies and adds a quality that embodies American expats' uniquely idealistic view of home. The music carries an intrinsic sense of homesickness (and by association nostalgia) for the ole USofA - the actual real estate; not the nation - that can be winning on a sunny afternoon with the top down cruising the PCH.

They had their freaking hits, but they were usually surrounded by crappy filler on their LPs. This is as close as they ever came to making a complete album. And it has Ventura Highway on it, which alone forgives a multitude of their sins.

So heal thyself, Forest boy, and then for God's sake, move on.

amg:

Homecoming, America's finest album, refines and focuses the folk-pop approach found on their debut release. The songs here are tighter and more forthright, with fewer extended solo instrumental sections than before. The sound quality is clear and bright; the colorful arrangements, while still acoustic guitar-based, feature more electric guitar and keyboards. The performance quality is more assured, among the most urgently committed the group would ever put on vinyl. Verses are still sometimes banal and clunky ("You can't disregard your friends/But life gets so hard when you reach the end") or cryptic ("Sorry, boy, but I've been hit by purple rain"), but a number of the song subjects here exhibit a yearning sense of wanderlust and love of the outdoors that proves to be highly evocative and compelling (particularly on "Moon Song," "Ventura Highway," "California Revisited," and "Cornwall Blank"). Chordal progressions are sophisticated and contain many subtle surprises. A few new style wrinkles can be seen in the country-influenced "Don't Cross the River," the drivingly gutsy "California Revisited" (perhaps the hardest-rocking song the group would ever produce), and the hushed yet mildly funky "Head & Heart." Chart hits from this release include "Ventura Highway," "Only in Your Heart," and "Don't Cross the River," but each song here has something to recommend it. This top-flight album is a very rewarding listen.

Hear

Monday, June 28, 2010

RIP - Pete Quaife

Pete Quaife, co-founder of the Kinks but wise enough to hit the bricks when the Davies boys made it awful and money became far too important, died last Thursday in Denmark after a long fight with kidney disease.

He had been a successful graphic designer after leaving the band and played music only when the mood struck him.

He was 66.

Metal Urbain - Panik

we are working on some new approaches at Pulpit Central.

Friday, June 25, 2010

24-Carat Black - Ghetto: Misfortune's Wealth (1973)

(aka: the Dale O. Warren story)

I just SO adore that Charmaines take
on the timeless standard
(Charlie Chaplin composition)

Turns out that the lovely wah guitar is by none other than Dennis Coffey.
But the real discovery for me was the producer /arranger Dale O. Warren.
-- turns out this dude arranged that track, this album and so much more...

allmusic saith: Dale Warren (sometimes credited as Dale O. Warren) was a classically trained musician who made his mark as an arranger and conductor in soul music, first in his native Detroit working for various labels (including Motown) and later, much more visibly, at Memphis-based Stax Records.

His first notable work for the latter was on Isaac Hayes' version of "Walk on By," and its success and the impact of the resulting album soon made Warren into a mainstay of the company's production department.

He subsequently served as an arranger for
Billy Eckstine, the Staple Singers, and Albert King, among many others, but his greatest triumph was probably his string arrangement for Hayes' soaring rendition of Jerry Butler's "I Stand Accused," from 1970. Warren's most visible contribution to music came two years after that, at the Wattstax Festival.

He was heavily featured as a composer and conductor at the legendary Wattstax concert and on one of the albums and in the movie that followed — he conducted what was billed as the Wattstax '72 Orchestra and also wrote the extended instrumental piece, "Salvation Symphony," that opened the event (a portion of which, eight minutes long, was included on one of the eventual album releases from the event).

He also took under his wing a Detroit-based group
renamed them 24 Carat Black,
producing one stunning album

Sad to say, Warren also suffered from various personal problems, including alcoholism — he was known for showing up at sessions with a supply of gin on hand, and apparently, if all accounts are to be believed, was drunk at some live engagements — that made him unreliable. His fortunes faded after he left Stax Records in 1974, that year did see Warren earn his first (and only) screen credit as a musician, for his work on the scoring of the drama The Klansman (1974).

He lived only just long enough to see this album turn into a cult favorite, embraced by hip-hop artists of the next generation, and to witness the first phase of the full-scale revival of interest in Stax and its history.

eXTReMe Tracker