Album of the Week - Vol. 19

Hitchhiker NEIL YOUNG (2017)
Week: Friday 26th March to Thursday 1st April
Format: Vinyl
Producer(s): Neil Young, David Briggs & John Hanlon
Track listing:
1. Pocahontas *
2. Powderfinger *
3. Captain Kennedy
4. Hawaii
5. Give Me Strength *
6. Ride My Llama
7. Hitchhiker *
8. Campaigner
9. Human Highway *
10. The Old Country Waltz
TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 33:44

Recorded in a single studio session on 11th August 1976, Neil Young's intent to release these songs as an album took 41 years to come to fruition. At the time, his record company (Reprise) baulked at the idea, and suggested full band arrangements for each of the tracks. More fool them. This is stripped to bare basics, and it's fantastic. Just Neil with his guitar and harmonica, except for the last song which is performed on a piano. It reminds me of Nick Drake's similarly stark Pink Moon, and both have the same fault of being too short. 

Except for Hawaii and Give Me Strength, all of these songs would appear on subsequent NY albums. The most recent occurrence being the title track, which was recorded in solo electric form for the 2010 album Le Noise, produced by Daniel Lanois. While it doesn't have the menace and growl of the newer version, this incarnation of Hitchhiker does still manage to be unnerving and imbued with small sense of paranoia. 

Three of these songs would arrive on 1979's excellent Rust Never Sleeps album, namely Pocahontas, Powderfinger and Ride My Llama. The former exists almost in the same form, but has a new vocal overdub. The latter is rerecorded before a live audience (as is the spirit of most of the album), but has a slightly different structure. Powderfinger is performed with Crazy Horse as part of the electric half of the album and is one of its highlights. To hear the song stripped down to its simplest form is quite something. As Paul Stanley once said of Kiss preparing for their 1996 MTV Unplugged performance, if a song doesn't work on an acoustic guitar, it's just a crappy song. Nothing more is needed here to express the emotion of the track. Wood, wire, skin and bones, as it were.

Human Highway was actually supposed to be the title track on CSNY's follow-up to their classic 1970 Déjà Vu album. There are even recordings of Young performing the song with Graham Nash and David Crosby in the mid seventies, but the record never materialised, despite their massive 1974 stadium tour. The world wouldn't get a second CSNY album until 1988's patchy American Dream. Human Highway was eventually recorded for Young's 1978 Comes A Time album, the closest relative to his Harvest smash. Again, hearing it here stripped of backing vocals and a band arrangement is like listening with fresh ears. I think I prefer this version to any other I've heard.

This take of Campaigner would see a release on Young's retrospective Decade in 1977, albeit with a verse removed, and Captain Kennedy shows up on 1980's Hawks & Doves as heard here. Both songs feel like they belong on this album. The former was one of a handful of unreleased songs to be included on Decade, and possibly was chosen due to its then-timely lyric stating that "even Richard Nixon has got soul". 

The album ends with The Old Country Waltz, played by Young on the piano, a far cry from the shambolic take with Crazy Horse on 1977's unfocused American Stars 'n Bars. In my mind, this is the weakest track here, but it is still very listenable, and I much prefer this version to the band one. Hawaii is probably the only other contender for that title, but again, is still quite good. When Young sings the title in the chorus his falsetto is eerie and unsettling. 

This leave us with Give Me Strength, which I really dig, and like Hawaii, I had not heard before. It's quite a nice song about loss and trying to move on, and I think it's a shame it was never revisited or released before this came out. There are a few flubs on the track, and that might be a reason it stayed in the vault, but I think it adds to the song's charm, and as result, the whole album.

The biggest travesty here is that the album stayed on the shelf for so long. It's a wonderful look into the mind of Young who was just coming out of his so-called 'Ditch trilogy' period and starting to look ahead. The deaths of Crazy Horse singer/guitarist Danny Whitten and roadie Bruce Berry affected Young profoundly, and had a cathartic effect on the music he produced following their passings. Here he seems a little dazed still, but trying to fight through the fog, and carry on. I'm so glad that he did. I first listened to this album shortly after its release via the excellent Neil Young Archives. Obtaining a copy on vinyl by the time I decided I wanted to own it proved a challenge, but good things come to those who persist!

Album of the Week - Vol.13

The Division Bell PINK FLOYD (1994)
Week: 29th June to 5th July 2019
Format: Vinyl (25th anniversary reissue)
Producer(s): Bob Ezrin, David Gilmour
Track listing:
SIDE A:
1. Cluster One *
2. What Do You Want From Me
3. Poles Apart *
SIDE B:
4. Marooned
5. A Great Day for Freedom
6. Wearing The Inside Out
SIDE C:
7. Take It Back *
8. Coming Back To Life *
9. Keep Talking
SIDE D:
10. Lost for Words
11. High Hopes *
TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 66:23

I got into Pink Floyd pretty late. While guys in high school were already praising The Wall and Dark Side of The Moon, I was still burying my head in The Beatles. I was away of some songs like Another Brick In The Wall (pt 2) and Wish You Were Here, but it wasn't until I went to Bali with my family in early 1990 that I ventured into the cave a little.
Back then, you could buy a cassette (old school album, kids) for around five Australian dollars in Bali. So, since there were no streaming services available on the internet  back then (what are those things??), I set about delving into some musical artists' back catalog. I bought tapes of David Bowie, The Doors, Led Zeppelin, and took a punt on Pink Floyd's The Wall and Wish You Were Here albums. 

I still remember turning up my Walkman-like device as In The Flesh kicked off The Wall, struggling to hear the music, until the first chord thundered through my skull like a lightning bolt. Although my nearly-fourteen-year-old self didn't quite get all the nuances of the narrative, I did enjoy the journey of the album. I was slightly more familiar with Wish You Were Here, particularly the title track and sections of Shine On You Crazy Diamond. As I listened, I started to understand what some kids at my school were on about. Yeah, this was pretty awesome music. 

Once we were back home, which was Albany at this point in time, I slowly set about listening to all of the existing Pink Floyd albums. Again, this was before streaming services were around, so I couldn't just hop online. I found friends with vinyl records and began swapping taped copies of albums back and forth with other like-minded Floyd enthusiasts. I remember finding a cassette copy of the Relics compilation in a roadhouse while on a school trip to Perth. 

Anyway, as the years went by, I became quite the fan. When news broke that they were releasing a brand new studio album in 1994, I was quite excited. This was the first time that I had anticipated a new Pink Floyd release. I went down to my favourite local music store, Southern Sound, and pre-ordered a copy on CD. I would have been eighteen years old at the time. Possibly seventeen, but I don't think I would have pre-ordered it any earlier than a month or two from the March release date.

Listening to the 25th anniversary reissue has brought back a lot of memories. Before I even put the first record on the player, I was struck by the amazing scent of the set. It's that lovely glossy photo feel that smells like a pack of collector's cards, namely Batman, I think. I collected cards from Tim Burton's Batman and Batman Returns movies, and I'm almost positive they smelled the same. The blue coloured vinyl is just divine as well. So pretty. The artwork incorporates all the different versions of the album covers too. They look amazing at vinyl size.

When I dropped the needle onto the first side of the first album, I remembered that feeling of excitement when I put the CD into my stereo system at home when I was eighteen, some twenty five years ago. It was cool to hear the crackle of vinyl before the white noise sound effects kicked in though.

The Division Bell is an album that gets stronger as it reaches its end. Opening instrumental track Cluster One is wonderful, and quite reminiscent of Signs of Life that kicked off 1987's A Momentary Lapse of Reason. I think that it works better than the album's other instrumental Marooned, which would bizarrely go on to win Best Rock Instrumental Performance Grammy award. Marooned just feels out of place and may have worked better later in the album.

What Do You Want From Me has some classic Floyd musical motifs, but comes off a little toothless. The first great song of the album, Poles Apart, sees David Gilmour singing to former bandmates Syd Barrett and Roger Waters. I'd forgotten how much I liked this one, and as that dual-guitar line ripped through the speakers I was suddenly eighteen again.

The album's two weakest points for me, close the first record's second side. A Great Day For Freedom is fairly listenable, but a little meandering, whereas Wearing The Inside Out just feels like being stuck in pool of honey. It's a shame because the latter has the only lead vocal contribution from keyboardist Richard Wright, and even features Dick Parry on saxophone.

Once the second record begins, it's all great stuff. Take It Back was the album's first single and was unfairly criticised by some as being derivative of their more radio-friendly work. I think it's one of the highlights of the album, and an obvious choice for a single. It's followed by the excellent Coming Back to Life, which gives Gilmour a chance to offer up a couple of lovely, melodic guitar solos. The menacing Keep Talking closes Side C, and I think it's my favourite slice of the album. It's a difference experience listening to The Division Bell on double vinyl, rather than a CD or streaming service. You have to get up and flip the record, or change it. As such, each quarter of the album gets the chance to hang around inside your head for a spell. 

The last two songs are very good too, with High Hopes crossing over the line into excellent. The former, Lost For Words, could be directed at ol' mate Roger again, and it's a very pleasant melody with some great acoustic work from Gilmour. High Hopes is full of The Wall-era atmosphere and contains the album's title in the lyrics (Yay! I love that). Eclipsing eight and a half minutes, the closing track is also the longest offering, but doesn't outstay its welcome. Considering the average song on The Division Bell is between five and six minutes, it's quite an achievement to have the longest one feel like one of the rest. 

Anyway, it's been brilliant spinning this album again, and on vinyl. I'm tempted to get out the CD and rip it onto the iPod for more portable listening. It's been a good years since I listened to the album in full. I must have spun it around five or six times since I got the vinyl copy. Hmmm...might be time to give P.U.L.S.E. another spin too!

It's Funny How You Want Things You Didn't Know You Wanted

I'm now on the hunt for the a copy of the Pretty In Pink soundtrack on vinyl. Correction, the 2012 pink vinyl reissue...because, why not? 

How did I get there? Interesting question, I hear you think. Well, Rhones and I have been watching a fair few of our DVDs lately. We started off going down memory lane, early noughties/late nineties style. We're talking The Replacements, Bring It On, Grosse Pointe Blank, High Fidelity, The Castle, The Dish, and, uh, I think that was all. Then we turned to some eighties classics.

We had already revisited Stand By Me, The Goonies, The Lost Boys and the Back To The Future trilogy fairly recently, so we looked to the work of Mr John Hughes. We quickly devoured Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and, you guessed it, Pretty In Pink. 

I can't say I'm hugely enamoured with the film, although I do enjoy the scene where Molly Ringwald's Andie confronts her father, played by Harry Dean Stanton, about his inability to move on after his wife left him. James Spader does a very nice job of being a real sleazeball, but I think Andrew McCarthy was miscast. And Jon Cryer's Duckie is overplayed. It was nice spotting Dweezil Zappa in a very minor role though.

But, I digress! As the film played, a few choice tunes appeared. Suzanne Vega's wonderful Left of Centre, Bring On The Dancing Horses by Echo & The Bunnymen, the title track of course and Shellshock by New Order. All of these songs are on the soundtrack, but I was surprised to hear New Order's Elegia as the minutes ticked over too! I had forgotten it was in there, to be honest, particularly after it was used to such chilling effect in the sublime Netflix TV series Stranger Things. 

Of course, OMD's iconic If You Leave ends the film, and also finds a spot on the soundtrack. There's also The Smith's beautiful Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want, which I didn't notice, if I'm being honest. I wish they'd used the Nik Kershaw version of Wouldn't It Be Good in there, but you can't have everything, I guess.

Anyway, me wantee. 

SIDE NOTE: After reading up on New Order's Low-Life album (which contains Elegia; and Shellshock appears on the 2008 collector's reissue), I gave that a good listen too. I want that as well now! Ha haaa!!