Showing posts with label jazz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jazz. Show all posts

Thursday, November 16, 2017

The Debut of Steely Dan



Forty–five years ago this month, the concept of fusion wasn't new, but Steely Dan was.

Fusion has evolved, I suppose, from earlier uses in science and medicine to computing, and somewhere along the way it came to describe the result of the combinations of two musical genres. Like restaurants that try to join two kinds of food, it hasn't always been successful. I mean, some things work when they are combined with other things. Some things don't.

Steely Dan, which released its debut album, "Can't Buy a Thrill," in November 1972, was a unique fusion of jazz and rock.

Oh, that wasn't exactly new in 1972, either, and as Henry David Thoreau once observed, when a person is familiar with the truth of a concept or principle, that person loses interest in its many applications. Fusion wasn't a hot topic in 1972. There had already been decades of talk of nuclear fusion.

In fact, if time travel was possible and you could go back to November 1972, you most likely would find that the primary topics of conversation were President Nixon's landslide victory over George McGovern or Secretary of State Henry Kissinger's declaration that peace was "at hand" in Vietnam. Sports fans would probably talk about the undefeated Miami Dolphins.

But "Can't Buy a Thrill" was a musical triumph in late 1972, spawning a huge hit in "Reelin' in the Years," which reached No. 11 on the charts. Elliott Randall's guitar solo was named by Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page as his favorite solo of all time.

One of the things I remember from my childhood was how "Reelin' in the Years" was the favorite of a friend of mine who was probably a year or so older than I was. He was an aspiring guitarist, and he learned to play that song. He was pretty good, too.

But the bigger hit on the album was always my favorite — "Do It Again," which climbed to No. 6 on the charts.

Steely Dan's style leaned strongly to soft rock. That worked better with other styles, mostly jazz sprinkled with a little blues and some R&B.

Steely Dan never really seemed comfortable with anything stronger, as if fusing hard rock with jazz wouldn't work because jazz is too fragile.

I suppose that's in the way you look at it, but Steely Dan's fusion seemed new and fresh, even if it really wasn't.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Joni Mitchell's Masterpiece



"I was a free man in Paris
I felt unfettered and alive
There was nobody calling me up for favors
And no one's future to decide
You know I'd go back there tomorrow
But for the work I've taken on
Stoking the star maker machinery
Behind the popular song"


Joni Mitchell

Imagine if you can what it must be like to be Joni Mitchell.

While she was still in her 20s, she released "Blue," which is ranked #30 on Rolling Stone's list of the top 500 albums of all time.

Then, 40 years ago today, she released "Court and Spark." It, too, made Rolling Stone's list. It wasn't as highly regarded (#113), but, with its fusion of folk and jazz, it was ranked higher than most albums — and deservedly so.

Mitchell was barely 30 years old at that time, but she had already released her most successful (and, arguably, her best) albums. They were really quite difference from each other. "Blue" was mostly what Jason Ankeny of AllMusic.com calls "confessional songwriting," but "Court and Spark" was primarily "evocative character studies."

The music was exquisite, and I believe it ensured Mitchell's place in popular music history.

If you were Joni Mitchell, where would you go from there? Which musical mountains were left to climb?

It would be hard for me to narrow down my favorite Joni Mitchell song, but "Free Man in Paris" certainly would be close to the top of my list. It was pretty popular with the public, too, climbing to #22 on Billboard's Hot 100.

The first single from the album — "Raised on Robbery" — actually was released a couple of months before the album was released, and it gave listeners a taste of what was in store. Robbie Robertson of The Band played electric guitar on a tune that sounded like it would have been right at home on a Manhattan Transfer album.

There was no shortage of talent supporting Mitchell on "Court and Spark." In addition to Robertson, the album had Graham Nash and David Crosby contributing background vocals on "Free Man in Paris" (Jose Feliciano played electric guitar on that one), and comedians Cheech and Chong provided background voices on (appropriately) "Twisted."

I suppose most casual listeners would name "Help Me" as their favorite song from the album, and that would certainly be a safe choice. It was Mitchell's first Top 10 hit, and it was probably the best of the "wary love songs" (as Ankeny put it) that dotted the album.

But "Help Me" got too darn much airplay for me. I liked it, but, if pressed to pick my favorite of the "wary love songs" on "Court and Spark," I probably would choose "People's Parties."

But that's just me.

Whichever song she sang, I always thought Joni Mitchell had a wonderful voice, and Rolling Stone agreed with me. It ranked her #42 on its list of the 100 greatest singers of all time.

Thursday, December 06, 2012

A Cool Cat Who Was H-O-T



A lot of things are being said about Dave Brubeck, the jazz legend who died yesterday at the age of 91 — a day short of his 92nd birthday.

Like most, NBC News remembered his signature composition, "Take Five," the piece that became one of the best–selling jazz recordings of all time.

In the Washington Post, Matt Schudel said Brubeck was "one of the world's foremost ambassadors of jazz."

Pat Eaton–Robb of the Associated Press wrote that his "pioneering style ... caught listeners' ears with exotic, challenging rhythms."

That's pretty impressive stuff.

Well deserved, too.

My memories of Brubeck are a bit more ordinary, I suppose — at least my earliest ones. I don't know how old I was at the time, but I remember my father putting a record of "Time Out," the album on which "Take Five" first appeared, on the old turntable we used to have and listening to it, tapping his feet in rhythm.

I don't know if he saw me or knew I was there. In hindsight, I can't be sure. I don't even know if I was sure at the time. But the image has remained with me all my life. I can't hear "Take Five" without thinking of my father.

I don't know if I knew at the time what Brubeck looked like. If I did, I must have picked up on his resemblance to my father — primarily his jet–black hair and eyeglasses.

Those were the things I would have recognized when I was little, but, as I say, I don't know how old I was before I had any idea what Brubeck looked like.

When I did learn what he looked like, my first reaction probably was that he looked a lot like Buddy Holly — once again, it was a glasses–and–hair thing.

He sure didn't sound like Buddy Holly.

But, like Buddy Holly, he made his own sound. He didn't try to do what others did. He did things his way.

And both jazz artists and jazz listeners will be forever grateful.