I used to know this guy in high school who was an asshole.
Well, okay, I knew a lot of assholes in high school ... so did you I imagine. But this guy was a real asshole. Many years later as I came to learn about narcissistic personality disorder I realized that fit him to a "T". That is to say he was an NPD. I suppose I should feel sorry for him. But I've known a lot of NPD's since then. And I hate `em. Despicable people.
Fortunately, this particular one was out of my life 40+ years ago, where he shall forever remain. But anyway, he liked Hawkwind. Which was reason enough for me to pay no attention to them for years and years and years. Add in that they're associated with "prog" (not my thing) and have had little or no critical cache (oops) and there ya go. I didn't actually listen to Hawkwind till a couple years ago.
What led me to them was that they have developed a certain cache, particularly among musicians I dig (such as the guys from Rocket from the Tombs). Plus Lemmy was a member, and how cool is that? So one night a few years back I did indeed download Space Ritual. And it did indeed begin to grow on me. To the point where I have now become a fan of Hawkwind.
To illustrate what I find compelling (and different) about Hawkwind, allow me to steal some quotes from "schmitt", a member of Rate Your Music who has an interesting, annotated list which can be read here:
While it may seem strange today -
especially in the US, where they are all but forgotten outside of a
dwindling cult - back in the early 70s Hawkwind was, to many observers,
the most exciting rock band around. In an era where rock music seemed
less adventurous than ever, here was one band, at least, still holding
on to the spirit of '67, trying to expand the parameters of the genre.,,,
Psychedelia had virtually disappeared from the US by 1970. In
England, it morphed into space-rock, a genre Pink Floyd invented in 1967
on their debut LP, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. ""Astronomy Domine" establishes the basic underpinnings of space-rock," Greg Shaw wrote in a March '73 article in Phonograph Record,
"steady, monotonous drumming, suggesting the relentless velocity of
space travel, and sharp, hard-edge rhythm guitar chording, representing
the unthinkably strong, firm metallic power of a space craft. Outer
space ambience is provided with the addition of weird organ sounds and
the de rigeur synthesizer whooshes. All of it combines to create the impression, still somewhat romanticized, of travel through space." To many critics, including Shaw, Pink Floyd was never the same after
Syd Barret's departure in 1968. "Pink Floyd seemed to become
preoccupied with mental space, and I rather lost interest," Shaw wrote
in 1973.
For Shaw, it was Hawkwind's second LP, In Search of Space,
that really accelerated the "basic raw space drive" of Pink Floyd's
early sound. "Tireless tomtom drumming, simple two-chord guitar rhythm,
voices intoning the title lyrics and the whole thing surrounded by a
universe of swirling, shooshing synthesizer noise. The whole album's
like that, and it's great." Lester Bangs, who reviewed the album in the
6/22/72 issue of Rolling Stone, agreed. "If you're glad that most of
that stuff is part of the past now, you'll probably think this album is a
pile of dogshit," he wrote. "If, on the other hand, you remember the
absolute glee of filling your skull with all those squawks and shrieks
and backwards-tapes and telegraphic open-tuned bridges between
indescribable inner worlds conjured best neither by this music nor
psychedeliteful elixirs but rather by a fortuitous combination of the
two - if that was one of your favorite eras in the decline of Western
Civilization, then you'd better glom onto this album... which may not be
rock 'n' roll, but certainly beats "Fire 'n' Rain.""
Shaw, Bangs and schmitt couldn't have it more right. And if you're thinking Hawkwind is starting to sound like their almost more in Velvets or Stooges territory, you'd be right. The early Hawkwind albums are indeed non-stop assaults of hypnotic, pounding grooves, slamming guitar and voices chanting sparse lyrics over and over the din, while weird electronic sounds add color and spectacle. Early Hawkwind ultimately has more in common with The Ramones than with prog. And it rocks.
Add in their reputation for drug use, crashing rock festivals uninvited, inviting audience participation and filling their stage with nutty light shows and big-titted, body-painted nude dance named Stacia and, well, here's a band right up my alley!
Hawkwind has been through a fairly dizzying array of members and some significant stylistic changes. Their best stuff was made by the "classic" lineup of Dave Brock (the band's mainstay), Nik Turner on sax, Robert Calvert on vox, Del Dettmar on keys, Simon King on the traps and Lemmy Kilmister hisself of bass. SST's Joe Carducci accurately described them thus: "Brock's guitar provided a heavily distorted wall of sound that rose
and fell as if it were some bonehead bass line. Lemmy's bass with its
high end distortion would roam around carrying the melody with it. Nick
Turner [sic] played two or maybe three note patterns on the sax that
would fade in and then fade out like old Nick was only orbiting this
planet. Terry Ollis or Simon King on drums would keep up a straight
pulsing pattern. Dik Mik, Del Dettmar and Simon House might then add odd
spiraling electronic noises - strictly low tech action - or they might
have to help the roadies keep Brock and Turner propped up. Bob Calvert
or Michael Moorcock might be found jabbering on about Vikings and space
maidens over the top of it all. And all together it sounded great - a
soaring, psychedelic hard rock drone. The fourth album, a live double
titled, Space Ritual, is a viable substitute for actually getting wasted yourself."
For me, it's the early stuff that counts - Hawkwind (their first, much maligned by fans but I think it's one of their most consistently engaging), In Search of Space, Doremi Fasol Latido and finally the epochal Space Ritual. After Ritual, their sound begins to change. Hall of the Mountain Grill and Warrior On the Edge of Time have a lighter feel and sound, and move closer to typical prog rock, albeit with less noodling. I should note that true Hawkwind followers rate those two to be among their finest, so use yer own judgment. The later 70's sees them moving in an almost "new wave"/pop direction; in the 80's the sound is more like pop-metal. The 90's were marked by a return to something closer to the classic sound. I'm still exploring. Starfarer's Hawkind Album Guide will help guide the interested through their dizzying catalog.
We're talking here about a guy who plays badass rock and roll - rootsy, raw, harsh guitar - not quite what you'd call "punk" - or call it punk from the old school. Imagine CCR crossed with Black Sabbath's "Paranoid". We're talking about a guy steeped in Buddy Holly who can write and sing the best Holly pastiches to be had (and that's a major compliment from me). We're talking about a guy who can sing sweet and gentle, again, ala Holly, and beautifully - or cut loose with a banshee howl that would chill the spine of any heavy metal shrieker. We're talking about a guy who made a rep singing about "all manner of occult and demonic beings - backed by some tremendously hard-hitting rock & roll" (Rolling Stone) - though this is only part of his output. We're talking about a guy who's made at least four albums worth of consistent, excellent, ass-kicking, hard rootsy-rock.
And we're talking about a guy who's pedigree includes writing one of the most seminal and famous garage rock anthems, "You're Gonna Miss Me", being a prime mover in one of the most legendary of all 60's underground bands, associations with Lightnin' Hopkins, Doug Sahm, Jack Johnson of the Flamin' Groovies, Stu Cook of CCR, Lou Ann Barton, and King Coffey of the Butthole Surfers.
And we're talking about a guy who beat back decades of serious health issues and is now back touring,
recording, and rocking like a madman, seemingly healthier than ever and with all his skills intact.
Roky's actual output isn't that extensive - an albums worth of singles and EP's in the late 70's, basically an album-and-a-half with the Aliens in the early 80's, a couple more EP's or EP's worth of tracks after that, and one more album in `86 - add a few scattered singles and recordings and that's about it (not counting his newest). But it's all consistent - good to great. Even though some of the later releases tend to be hodge-podges of tracks recorded at different times, with different bands and in varying styles, the songs themselves are always solid. (Note here, I am speaking of the main body of Roky releases, and not the dizzying array of rehearsal tapes and demos that have spawned over the years. )
So the bottom line is - Roky rocks!
And that is the reason to pay attention to him. Not because of the Elevators, Rusk, his health problems or even his horror-movie obsession. No, Roky's important cuz he's a great rocker. All the rest is just so much hugger-mugger.
The main recordings by Roky and the Aliens, originally on the LP's Roky Erickson and the Aliens and The Evil One are now collected on The Evil One. This is a good album, but marred by stiff performances (esp. in the riddim section) and flat, 80's production. I guess producer Stu Cook had a little too much gentle hippie in him to capture the full fury. Live versions of all but a couple of these songs, with The Explosives, are collected on Casting the Runes and Halloween, and are highly recommended.
I wish someone would put out a single CD with Roky's late 70's singles and EP's - I know it would make a good one cuz I made one myself. The first 7" "Red Temple Prayer (Two Headed Dog)" b/w "Starry Eyes", the furious rocker "Click Your Fingers Applauding the Play", "Mine Mine Mind" and a gorgeous solo ballad "I Have Always Been Here Before" from the 1977 Sponge EP Two Headed Dog can be found on I Have Always Been Here Before, a fine collection of solo and Elevators tracks. It does not include the title track from the EP (a very fine version of the song, however), but does include both sides the follow-up single "Bermuda" b/w "The Interpreter". Several live cuts with his then-current backing band, Bleib Alien, can be found on Gremlins Have Pictures, an odd but enjoyable collection of rarities. Best of them is the otherwise very rare "Before in the Beginning", recorded live in the Bay Area in `78 or so. It sounds more like an Elevators track than anything else in Roky's solo catalog.
I Have Always Been Here Before also contains much of the best of Roky's post-Aliens recordings, including most of his 1985 Clear Night for Love EP, the one-off single "The Beast" and the two best tracks from the disappointing 1986 Don't Slander Me, a mostly slick, stiff, and overproduced bummer. Unfortunately, it misses the best track from Clear Night, a screaming rocker called "The Haunt" which I rate among Roky's very best. It can be heard on All That May Do My Rhyme, an odd collection of 80's and 90's recordings which includes all of the Clear Night EP. Also missed is "The Damn Thing" from Slander.
There's a score of live Roky out there. The best I've heard are the aforemention Casting the Runes and Halloween, which have superior bootleg-level sounds and terrific performances - the band rocks like a mother and Rok is in full howl throughout. There's some overlap between the two but enough worthwhile to get both. Beauty and the Beast, recorded in the early 80's with The Resurrectionists, is also pretty rockin' and pretty fine. Gremlins has a terrific Explosives-backed performances of "Heroin" - yes, the Velvets song. There's also a truly crazed live version of same backed by Evil Hook Wildlife, as the b-side of "The Beast" single. There's a Roky + Evil Hook Wildlife collection too, Evil Hook Wildlife ET, but it's inferior to the other live sets I've mentioned. All the other live Roky sets I've heard (and I've heard most of them) are basically inferior-bootleg level and none of them shines like the titles above. The same goes for the multiple collections of demos, rehearsals and hotel room tapes that have emerged over the years, none of which are even close to essential. Basically there's nothing there unless you're determined to own every Roky recording extant.
Essential Reading
I can't comment on the collectible Roky Erickson Story by Jack Ortman, "365 pages of photocopied news articles, letters, lyrics, posters etc. pertaining to Roky Erickson and the 13th Floor Elevators." - but it's probably very cool if you have the cash.
Demon Angelis a VHS-only oddity - Roky in the early 80's, performing with an electric guitar in what appears to be a cave(!) and being interviewed while riding around in a car, etc. Odd but interesting. This one I have seen, obviously.
FC are one of the stranger sixties rock hero stories. They’ve had a nearly 50 –year ride, yet pretty much all the essential stuff occurred in one two-year period – 1969-1970 – which doesn’t even encompass their first couple years together. And though all but two of the original principals are still alive and active, none of those original principals is still part of the band (or has been for more than a decade). The important Fairport essentially ceased to exist after 1970, despite an attempt at revival. Yet they’ve kept shooting out sparks all the way to 2015. Fairport first landed on my radar, as they did most of us (then) young Amurricans via Richard Thompson. It was a 1983 review of his Hand of Kindness LP that got my attention – I’d never heard of Thompson, nor the “late, lamented” (as the rev put it) Fairport Convention. Those were the days when I paid a lot of attention to what rockcrits said – look, there was no other roadmap, and Thompson/Fairport weren’t the sort of thing to turn up on AOR in them times. A perusal of The New Rolling Stone Record Guide (1983 edition) yielded the following by Greil Marcus no less: “The most distinctive and satisfying folk-rock LPs since the Byrds’ first. Emerging in the late Sixties, the English Fairports were built around singer Sandy Denny and guitarist/vocalist Richard Thompson; they combined a timeless lyricism, an archivist’s purism, rock & roll punch, Cajun good times, superb original songs and a sense of humor that led to marvelously idiosyncratic readings of obscure Dylan tunes. Their emotional commitment to their material was extraordinary. Had the Band been British, this is what it might have sounded like.” It’s Marcus. You know he’d have to slot a Band ref in there, right? At least he didn’t compare them to Randy Newman or Elvis. At least.
Reeeeeegardless, this is an accurate snapshot of the second and third Fairport albums. The earliest Fairport was, in fact, modeled (consciously/unconsciously) on Jefferson Airplane, right down to twin male/female lead singers (Iain Matthews/Judy Dyble), hot shit lead guitar (Richard Thompson) and a draw from contemporary, and I should stress, largely American, folk songsters (heavy on the Joni Mitchell – who was not a known quantity in Britain at the time, and Dylan, who was a known quantity everywhere – and throw in Richard Farina, Jackson C. Frank, Eric Andersen, Leonard Cohen et al). Add in a dash of the blues and a dose of The Byrds via Thompson’s (w)ringing guitar and you’ve got Fairport Mk I. But it was Mk II that counted. When Judy Dyble got dumped for up-and-coming folk princess Sandy Denny, several things happened. (1) they had a strong, distinctive lead singer (Matthews soon became superfluous in Denny’s wake) (2) they had a charismatic front-woman (3) they had a strong in-house songwriter (Denny again – she brought her own “Who Knows Where the Time Goes” just for starts) (4) they began to inject the trad British folk that Denny had been singing solo into their rep – a step that would come to define them for future (5) guitarist Thompson had someone to egg him on both as guit virtuoso and songwriter (Thompson’s originals and playing on album one – which featured the Dyble line-up – are interesting, but barely an inkling of what would come). The result was attention both commercial and critical, on both sides of the pond (see Marcus comments, above). Two albums out in `69, critical attention, a couple hits. Nice momentum. It all came to a halt in May when they crashed the band’s van, killing drummer Martin Lamble. The short-term effects were minor – they recruited new drummer Dave Mattacks and trad fiddler Dave Swarbrick, a highly respected musician who, though older than the other Fairporteers, was young and hip enough to dig rocking up folk material electrically, and carried on with an album made up mostly (3/8) of traditional Celtic Childe ballads-type material. Critics were a little disappointed, feeling the album was well-made but that Fairport were better off with contemporary, and in-house, material. They weren’t necessarily wrong. The whole album is good, but 3 of the 4 strongest cuts are Thompson’s “Farewell Farewell”, Thompson/Swarbrick’s “Crazy Man Michael” and Denny/Hutchings’ “Come All Ye”. No matter. The album was a hit and majorly influential and put Fairport on the commercial and cultural map like never before-o. The long term effects then kicked in. Matthews had bailed pre-crash to form Matthew’s Southern Comfort. Now Hutchings split to form The Albion Band. Then Denny quit to form Fotheringay. Fairport, now down to Thompson, Swarbrick, new bass player Dave Pegg and Mattacks (Thompson and Simon Nicol being the only founding members left) recorded the well-received follow-up Full House and toured the US, with Thompson really stepping out on guit and vocals. And then he was gone, too. And that, effectively, was the end of Fairport’s important phase. It wasn’t the end of Fairport, mind you. Swarbrick, Pegg, and (usually) Mattacks (and ultimately, Simon Nicol, too) soldiered on with a revolving door of replacement members, including, ultimately, most of Fotheringay including Sandy Denny herself for a couple of years. Though they managed some good live shows (cf. Fairport Live Convention) with Sandy, she was past her peak and would soon enough be gone again, back to her solo career and then demise. By `79 even Swarbrick was burned out and the band called it a day. For awhile. The band had been doing regular annual gigs at Cropredy, a village in Oxfordshire where Dave Pegg lived(s?). They kept them up, every year, eventually moving to grounds outside the village (and occasionally elsewhere). The Cropredy Festival has become a major showcase for Celtic folk/rock, and has even expanded to include outsiders (such as … Alice Cooper!) By the latter half of the 80’s Nicol/Pegg/Mattacks had revived Fairport as a going concern. Alas, for poor Fairport, though – they never moved beyond, or even caught up with, Full House. Instead, they’ve largely followed that road ever since – mix some electrified traditional numbers with some folk-ish originals. If you have a great love of Celtic folk-rock, then the remainder of the Fairport catalog may be fine wine … none of the albums I’ve heard are bad. But the fact is, they never could adequately replace Denny and Thompson as writers or performers. Hey, Swarb may be to Celtic folk-rock fiddler what Thompson is to the guitar, and he seems to be an all-around swell guy. But he never became a songwriter in Thompson/Denny’s class, nor did any of the other members, fine musicians though they may all be. Fairport Convention Fairport Convention wiki Fairport Convention Allmusic Fairport Convention RYM Essential Listening The essential Fairports are What We Did On Our Holidays, Unhalfbricking, Liege and Lief and Full House. Period. Of the rest - the pre-Holidaysdebut album is an interesting curiosity but not much more - thinly and flatly produced, interesting but not truly memorable songs, only the tiniest hints of Thompson's guitar style, as yet undeveloped at that time. It's the sort of well-intentioned album you wish was better than it was. The Cropredy Box features the two best songs, "Time Will Show the Wiser" and "Jack O' Diamonds", performed live with Thompson on guitar/vox, and the jump in quality is quantum - these are worth hearing. There are no audience recordings of the original Denny-era Fairport live, but there are a number of BBC appearances, collected on Live at the BBC. I actually like the BBC versions of "Tam Lin" (more Thompson!), "Percy's Song" and "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" better than the LP versions. (Heyday is a condensed version of BBC. And alas, misses those performances). There is also Fairport Live Convention, a 1974 Sydney gig, featuring a later incarnation of Fairport with Denny back on board. It's got a good "Matty Groves", a nice version of Swarbrick's "Rosie", a definitive "John the Gun" from Denny's solo albums, and a stomping cover of Dylan's "Down in the Flood". The best live Fairport is captured on House Full, a live set from the L.A. Troubadour with the Full House lineup. Thompson and Swarbrick turn "Matty Groves", "Sloth", and most of the rest of Full House including two outtakes ("Poor Will and the Jolly Hangman" and "Sir Patrick Spens") into full-fledged duels, pushing each other to play faster, harder, wilder, spinning their solos into shrieking demonic wails while the band pounds behind them like The Ramones. Awesome stuff. Post Thompson-Denny, there have been some 60 albums under the Fairport name - studio albums, live albums, etc. I've listened to enough to know that I don't care to listen to them all, though none I've heard are actually bad, and some are obviously better than others. Rosie has the title track, a nice Swarbrick country love song. Rising For The Moon, with Denny back at the helm briefly, has some nice tracks, but is closer to a Denny solo album. Moat on the Ledge, an `81 reunion gig has Thompson on board, and rocks pretty hard. Gottle O' Geeris a rather lifeless and forgettable slab. These and other might be worth exploring to hardcore Fairport-phile. Essential Viewing Fairport Convention: Maidstone 1970 contains some brief, but very rare, footage of the Thompson/Swarbrick-led Fairport, and is therefore worth a look. Also includes footage of Matthews' Southern Comfort. It All Comes 'Round Againis a documentary about the band that came out in `87. It's apparently never made it to DVD.
“Imagine encountering, here in the Eighties, someone who had never heard of Jimi Hendrix, who had never been moved by the great singers and session groups of golden-age Motown, or who, by whatever unimaginable means, had managed to remain incognizant of the collected musical masterworks of Lennon and McCartney. Every guitar player should own this album, if only to hear Richard's skirling Stratocaster intro to "Calvary Cross," and his compact, utterly unpredictable solos on such songs as "When I Get to the Border." Singers will be wonder-struck by Linda's stunning readings of "Withered and Died" and the sublime "Down Where the Drunkards Roll," not to mention the rollicking title track, a pure-pop pinnacle for the pair. And enemies of sentiment can savor Richard's hard-nosed lyrical stance, most striking on "The End of the Rainbow," a chilling lullaby in which he advises the dozing infant: "There's nothing at the end of the rainbow/There's nothing to grow up for anymore." So wrote Kurt Loder in an evocative 1984 Rolling Stone review of indie label Carthage’s re-ish of Richard and Linda Thompson’s 70’s back catalog. If that isn’t the sort of thing that makes ya’ll want to scurry off to the nearest CD store, cash in hand, then friend, you’re probably reading the wrong blog. RT isn’t all that ob-scure today. He’s a critics darling and celebrated cult artist, and not only is his back catalog readily available, so is a host of live recordings, outtakes, videos, boxed-sets et al. Once “scandalously unavailable” (thanks Sr. Christgau), Thompson is highly visible and eminently approachable, if you’ve the inclination. You should, because Loder is right. Any guitar-head who loves, say, Marquee Moon is going to collapse into a state of orgasmic ecstasy upon entering Thompson-land. Think a mega-dose of Bert Jansch/Davey Graham-esque DAGDAD Celtic/mid-eastern drone, pumped up with equal parts Scotty Moore/James Burton pure rock`n’roll drive. If songwriting’s your bag, Thompson’s writing is always literate, witty, sometimes very funny, and other times deals in blasted truths so harsh and unflinching that even Lou Reed would likely wince. RT’s story begins with legendary British folk-rockers Fairport Convention – a story in itself, but which I’ll condense mightily here. Fairport essentially kicked off as an Anglo Jefferson Airplane, right down to configuration (dual lead singers, male and female) and material (mostly folkie stuff, covers of notable songsmiths including Dylan, a few similarly-minded originals) and a weird sensa humor. And, like the Airplane, the band found definition when they ousted original female singer Judy Dyble for Sandy Denny, equivalent to Grace Slick in rep, vocal prowess , charisma and songwriting ability. Thompson sat in Jorma’s seat. But as early as their second outing, 19769’s What We Did On Our Holidays, he was also showing himself as a songwriter of real intelligence and originality. “Take the sun from my heart/Let me learn to despise” crooned the chorus at the opening of “Tale in Hard Time”. But it was Thompson’s “Meet On the Ledge”, an aching, heartbreaking meditation on love, friendship, loss, mortality and the afterlife that dropped the bomb. There’d simply never been anything quite like it. “Ledge” remains Fairport’s signature song, long after Thompson’s departure from the band a little over two years after waxing it. By the time of that departure, Thompson had lived up to his promise as a writer and was honing his guitar attack to a razors edge – you can hear him duke it out with violinist Dave Swarbrick on House Full: Live at the Troubdour and various bootlegs. In `72 he cut the bizarre, ultra-eclectic Henry the Human Fly, a collection of originals that spanned various forms of Celtic folk, art song, and pure if peculiarly British rock`n’roll. Henry picked up the occasional favorable review and influenced those few weirdos (David Thomas of Pere Ubu was/is a major fan) who managed to get their hands on it while going down as the worst-selling album in the label’s history. Thompson kept it together by doing sessions and marrying Linda Peters. As Richard and Linda Thompson, they started build a formidable rep on the folk circuit - "Thompson could stun from 50 paces with a frenzy of unfeasibly nimble fretwork, while Linda - was capable of sending a sliver of ice into your heart."
Being a big deal on the British folk circuit made them big-ish fish in a small-ish pond. But their three album for Island I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight, Honkey Pokey (both `74) and Pour Down Like Silver (`75) got them attention beyond the green and pleasant shores. " Most folk-rock succeeds only in accentuating the irretrievability of the past, but the Thompsons' hard-nosed Sufi fatalism delivers them from nostalgia. When they sing about getting "to the border," they're talking about dying, not smuggling weed from Mexico, and they make the crossing sound like an earthly triumph ("drowned in a barrel of wine" indeed). Because they believe in eternity, the Thompsons don't sentimentalize about time gone--they simply encompass it in an endless present – wrote Christgau of Bright Lights. Hokey Pokey was an enjoyable transition, but it was the last that was their first masterpiece, a dazzling collection of devotional songs that could pass for love songs even if you looked close. The combination of shimmering guitar work, fearless songs of longing and desire (for eternity, love, transcendence, all of the above and more) and their one-two punch vocal team-up made for the best rock`n’roll to come out of the UK until Johnny Rotten grabbed a mike (which happened, I might add, at the very same time this gem was recorded and released). None of this translated into big record sales or fame, though. And the Thompsons, having converted to Sufism, chose to leave the material world behind for a time, dropping out to live in a Sufi commune, where Richard would only make music for and with the faithful. Fortunately for us fans, it didn’t last. After a few years without such real-world illusions as electricity and running water, Linda decided it was time to return to the secular world, dragging her perhaps reluctant hubby with her. Their re-entry was tentative at first – First Light and Sunnyvista are the two weakest offings in the Thompson oeuvre. This is not, however, to say they’re actually bad – both contain some fine moments and Sunnyvista’s best tracks rock. The real bomb was yet to drop, though. Having now flopped for three labels, the Thompsons weren’t exactly seen as a hot prospect. Even hit producer Gerry Rafferty couldn’t find a taker for their latest recording – an album Richard intensely disliked. When that chance died, the Thompson’s signed with producer Joe Boyd’s tiny new Hannibal label and quickly recorded a new album, mostly made up of songs from the unreleased Rafferty album. Shoot Out the Lights changed everything. First, it sold - better than anything they’d ever done, probably a result of the second factor, which is that it was widely and ecstatically reviewed even in such places as Rolling Stone and The Village Voice. It made pretty much everyone’s best-of-the-year list for 1982. And it deserved to. Lights was a collection of powerfully compelling songs, driven by the usual suspects (hot guitar, superb, mature songwriting and potent singing), but here turned up to eleven. The teaming of Linda’s chilling vocals and Richard’s shards-of-broken-glass guitar on “Walking On A Wire”, the deceptively calm meditation of “Just the Motion”, the driving rock of “Don’t Renege On Our Love” and the joyous doom-laden “Wall Of Death” and the guitar flip-out of the title track … this was Richard and Linda firing on all cylinders. They’d always been a treasure – now they were undeniable.
And they were also over. The success of the album all but forced them into their first US tour, a now-legendary affair in which the Thompsons icily faced away from each other while harmonizing on the songs of broken love and betrayal that filled Lights – that is when they weren’t actively sniping at each other. The onstage dissolution of their marriage might have been spectacle – odd for RT, a devoutly religious, introverted, achingly shy, teetotaling, non-leather-wearing vegetarian – hardly the stuff of bad-ass rockin’ and rollin’ – but the music, captured on bootlegs, was often extraordinary as the Thompsons, abetted by old mates Pete Zorn and ex-Fairporteers Simon Nicol and Dave Mattacks, stormed through songs from Lights, highlights from their rich back catalog, the occasional Fairport chestnut, and stompin’ rock`n’roll encores courtesy of the Everly Bros., Jerry Lee Lewis and Conway Twitty (“Danny Boy”!). The whole thing left Richard, now a cause celebre, as a hot property even if he was hardly Top 40. Next year’s Hand Of Kindness, sans Linda, was a rollicking collection of Cajun-style r`n’r stomps filtered through the usual Celtic sensibility. It too made numerous year-end best-ofs, and landed him a new signature tune, the romping “Tear-Stained Letter”. That and another US tour finally put him on the map and now, 11 years after bailing on Fairport, Thompson was officially a cult artist of no little renown, covered and praised in all the music rags. By `85 he was signed to a major again. Kurt Loder would write of RT’s next release, Across A Crowded Room, “by any standard other than his own it's a very fine record, replete with rollicking rhythms, master-class guitar excursions and piercing lyrical apercus. However, longtime Thompson listeners may find that, compared to much of his past work — particularly the six superb studio albums he recorded with his ex-wife, singer Linda Thompson — Across a Crowded Room is faintly disappointing. Such are the burdens of inveterate brilliance. Those unfamiliar with Thompson's work are invited to dismiss all of the above as purist nit-picking. Across a Crowded Room remains a compendium of expertly constructed songs, played and sung with real heart and recorded with an exciting, live-in-the-studio crackle. Rare is the artist from whom such excellence can come to seem a letdown.”
Which, in a nutshell, sums up RT ever since. He tours regularly and reliably puts out an album every 2-4 years, for the majors until 1999 and a series of indies since. He’s put out 13 studio albums since 1983 and all of them are good to very good, each of them contains at least 2-3 very memorable songs and usually at least one real treasure or near-treasure. Some are stronger than others. He’s also released a plethora of live recordings, one three-disk set, tow boxed sets (one a career retrospective, the other entirely made up of outtakes), and several DVD’s. He regularly turns up on tribute albums and specials (and has been the subject of several himself). He’s generally regarded as a musician’s musician. He’s never bad, though at worst he can be a little dull and predictable, falling back on musical and lyrical tropes he now handles effortlessly. He rarely hits it out of the park, but he can still hit a homer. Thompson’s assembled a catalog of good-to-great albums, and that’s no small thing.
Richard Thompson Allmusic Wiki Essential Listening The cream of the RT crop, album-wise, are Shoot Out the Lights, I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight, Pour Down Like Silverand Hand of Kindness. Lights is the most potent, Bright Lights the most "Celtic", Hand the most rockin' and Silver, though less immediately accessible than its brethren, is the most rewarding over time. The weird but charming Henry the Human Fly comes on the heels of those. The rest of the Linda-era albums are spottier. Hokey Pokey, which arrived `tween Bright Lights and Silver, is half an album as good as its brothers and half throwaways. The good stuff includes "The Egypt Room", "I'll Regret It All In The Morning" and the title track, a paean to ice cream or oral sex - take your pick. First Light is the least interesting Thompson album to these ears - sub-standard songs, rather lifelessly performed and too-slickly produced. Sunnyvista is tougher and rocks pretty hard, but again, is half a good album and half filler. "Borrowed Time" is one of RT's best rockers and the rollicking cajun hoedown "Saturday Rolling Around" are the standouts. Post-Linda and post-Hand of Kindness, the highlights are Across A Crowded Room which, despite inspiring Kurt Loder's hesitant praise, is consistent and has held up well. The eerie "Ghosts in the Wind", "When the Spell is Broken" and the very strange "Love In A Faithless Country" are essential RT listening. Daring Adventures, the follow-up, is nearly as good; the celt-o-billy "Valerie" is another great rocker, and closer "Al Bowlly's in Heaven" is one of Thompson's finest hours. After that complacency sets in. All of Thompson's from `89's Amnesia on are worth hearing, all contain some fine tracks, all spotlight his talents and virtues expertly and none really blows me away. Mock Tudor (1999) tops my list and 2005's Front Parlour Ballads is bottom. Everything else falls somewhere in between. If you like Thompson, you'll find things to like on all of them (I do, and I do). There are many live Thompson albums now, though once they were a rare beast. I haven't heard them all but any live Thompson is probably worth hearing (and he's definitely worth seeing perform). I'm partial to the solo, acoustic Small Town Romance, recorded on Thompson's first solo US tour. Apparently I'm not the only one. Though Thompson famously dislikes the album and had it deleted from the catalog, he allowed it to be restored due to popular demand. A fistful of Linda-era live tracks which originally appeared on the Guitar, Vocal compilation, specifically a romping cover of Jerry Lee Lewis' "It'll Be Me", a stunning take on Dan Penn's "Dark End Of The Street" and a hypnotic, overpowering "Night Comes In" can now be found as bonus tracks on the Pour Down Like Silver and Hokey Pokey CD's. There's also a plethora of compilations. Most noteworthy is the three-disc Watching the Dark, which mixes a handful of album tracks with some real winners - "Crash the Party", an original rocker used to close out shows in the late 80's, the stunning ballad, "From Galway to Graceland", a driving alt take of "For Shame Of Doing Wrong", and a powerful live take of "When the Spell is Broken", among others, making this a close-to-essential set. The later, 5-CD RT is all unreleased stuff - live stuff, alt takes and never-before heard. Its a lot of fun but probably only for the committed Thompson-ite (of couse, I have it...). Walking On Wire is an attempt at box set career retrospective. Good stuff, but if you're interested in Thompson, go for the original albums first. If you become an aficionado, you won't need this set anyway. On the other hand, the very rare Doom and Gloom From the Tomb Vol. 1, a cassette-only set sent out as a gift to subscribers to Thompson's fan club in the 80's, has some essential finds, including a storming live "Cavalry Cross", a cover of "I'll Keep It With Mine", and demo versions of stuff from First Light that slay the released versions. Good luck finding but its worth the search. Thompson's Fairport days are covered on their first five albums, the best of which is 1969's Liege and Lief. The compilation Chronicles, which replaces the fine two-LP set, contains most of what's best on the rest, including most of Thompson's best Fairport moments, and the obscure "Poor Will and the Jolly Hangman", which Thompson left off his final Fairport album, Full House(it has now been re-added as a bonus track on the CD). His most exciting moments with Fairport are captured on the live House Fullalbum, which contains intense performances of much of the best of the later Fairport stuff, and some savage dueling between Thompson's guit and Dave Swarbrick's fiddle. Essential Reading Richard Thompson: The Biography by Patrick Humphries covers Thompson life and music up to 1996 quite well. Essential Viewing There are now several live DVD's. You can check them out here. I haven't seen any of them, but live Thompson is almost always worthwhile. One I have seen, and it's quite worthwhile is Across A Crowded Room - Live in Concert 1985. I saw that tour and it's a fond memory. Thompson hasn't fit to issue it on DVD yet, though.
I'm not sure there's another guy out there I want to like more than Slowhand.
Problem is, there's few who are as elevated beyond their station.
There, I said it.
In case you haven't already started scrawling a venom-filled comment, allow me to clarify.
As a musician - superb. One of the finest guitar players around. An immaculate player, but also filled with passion. He's never let technique overwhelm feeling - it's always technique fueled by feeling. The difference is crucial.
But Clapton's on the pedestal as an artist in his own right. A full-fledged member of the Classic Rock Pantheon, not merely as a sideman. Notice that the equally estimable Cream-mateGinger Baker, as fine a drummer as Clapton is a guitarist, is not there.
No, Clapton now must be judged not just for his guitar chops, but for the whole package, as do peers like Townshend, Keef, Hendrix ... and there's where the trouble starts.
I'll make it very simple for you. Think of any of the three above, and at least a half-dozen great, great songs and at least a couple consistently great albums come to mind.
Think of Clapton, and there's one.
"Layla" is a mother of a song. Majestic, rocking, driven by a great riff, and beautiful in its coda. The album that surrounds it is damn fine. A deep, bluesy, soulful album with great playing, good songs, and all delivered with a passion and fire that's contagious. Listening to the Layla album (and one of its greatest strengths is that it gets better with age), what comes off is that the whole band is just into it all the way, pushing themselves harder and harder. It's as intense as the most passionate punk rock, and yet it isn't even, strictly speaking, a hard rock album. The sound is soulful and easy-grooving... it's just soulful and easy-grooving turned up to eleven. You can hear it in the singing, the sheer joy on "Anyday", the sheer fear and pain on "Bell Bottom Blues" as Clapton and Whitlock join forces. Neither of them's a great singer, nor even has a strong voice, but they're cutting loose with everything they've got.
No, the sad thing is that Layla was the first and last time he really let it rip. Layla gave him the map - a smart move away from guitar-hero indulgence; a mature, blues-soul-based sound. Great musicianship in service of good songs. All admirable things.
But, as Dave Marsh put it, reviewing Backless in 1978: It's disheartening only if you're still looking for a Clapton album with a hint of the power and fire he brought to his best work.
Note the word "still". By 1978 Clapton had been ambling his way down the laid-back road for seven years. Albums like Backless and 461 Ocean Boulevard and Slowhand were all nice albums full of pleasant music and fine playing. They weren't dreck, they had a little more bite than your typical "mellow", "soft" rock of the time. But they never bit you. They never scratched or tore or shook things up. You never heard the kind of unhinged passion you heard on Layla, and you never heard the beauty, either.
After cleaning up in the 80's Clapton reinvented himself as a Phil Collins-style pop-rocker. Oh joy. His music got livelier, anyway. He scored a few hits and then scored himself a few more, reinventing himself in the 90's as a kind of blues ambassador, making tough Chicago-and-Delta blues accessible to yuppies not ready to deal with icky-looking old black men (most of whom were dead anyway). This did make for better music, because Clapton is a superb blues guitarist, and its only on blues staples that he ever shows even a hint of the old days.
We're not even gonna talk about Unplugged or "Tears In Heaven". Not even.
Now that he's achieved Grand Old Man status, his decades-long lack of ambition no longer matters much. Perhaps that's why the one post-Layla Clapton album I can get excited about is Me and Mr. Johnson, his 2004 collection of Robert Johnson songs. Me and seems to be pretty maligned as being too slick and lifeless, especially given the source. I don't agree. ProTools credit or no, the band sounds good and raw, and the very virtue of it is that Clapton doesn't try to beat Johnson at his own game (a fool's errand, anyway). He just sings and plays hot guitar. Clapton loves these songs and his devotion to them comes through. What you have is a first-rate blues-rock album, played by top of the line musicians who are getting off on what they're doing, and the songs are of course faultless. It's not Layla, but at least its powered by some of the same sort of impulse.
But two great albums and one great song isn't much of a showing for a guy with Clapton's rep. I'm just sayin'.
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