5 Songs Friday, October 11, 2024

5 Songs, but 6 Records

McGuin, Clark & Hillman – “Surrender to Me” 1979 from McGuinn, Clark & Hillman. I’ve seen this album in cut-out and used record bins for decades, but I’ve never heard it before. Roger McGuinn, Gene Clark, and Chris Hillman are legends to me, 3/5 of the original Byrds. This song, which none of them even wrote, doesn’t sound anything like that. If anything, it’s closer in spirit to Little River Band, with maybe a hint of Fleetwood Mac. (Songwriter Rick Vito would later briefly replace Lindsey Buckingham in that band.) The feel is definitely yacht rock, and I’m not usually a fan. But I enjoy the way the guitars work in this record against the decidedly non-Byrdisan harmonies. Nothing sounds like the trademark McGuinn jangle, but you do have three guitars here – two leads weaving around each other, and a solid rhythm. It’s not a major record, but it’s an effective one.

Fitzgerald – “What You Want Wid Bess” 1958 from Porgy and Bess (with Louis Armstrong). While I certainly know the big songs from it, I’ve never actually listened to an entire Porgy and Bess performance. So many holes in my experience, no matter how much time I’ve spent around music. This song caught me off guard, as it’s apparently sung by Bess talking to her previous abusive man, Crown. “You could kick me in the street / Then when you wanted me back / You could whistle and there I was / Back again, lickin’ yo hand.” The assumptions Ira Gershwin put into lyrics for his brother George’s magnificent music are appalling. Fitzgerald, though, doesn’t care that the ideas in the song are horrific. She’s in love with the melody, a fast-moving, heavily jazzy tune that is exactly up her alley. Really, it’s as if she’s scatting, but with words. Maybe I should listen to the whole album by Fitzgerald and Armstrong one of these days.

Lightnin’ Hopkins – “Last Night” 1965 from Lightnin’ Strikes Vol. 3. Lightnin’ Hopkins recorded so often, doing the same songs in different versions, and coming up with so many different approaches to the blues, that I’ve tended to push him aside as an acknowledged great without spending much time listening to him. Unlike John Lee Hooker, who also never turned down a chance to earn cash in a studio, Hopkins was inconsistent, and some of his records just don’t do him justice. This one, however! Holy moley, that opening guitar chord, and the insistent chopping phrase which follows, goes straight to the throat and chokes me up. Hopkins is accompanied by bass and drums here, and they’re steady enough, but the star is his sly vocals and his burning guitar playing. He puts on a clinic here, utilizing punches, bends, dynamics, and that perfect electric guitar tone to convey all the sadness but also the determination to stay on his own path. I won’t spoil the lyrics because the first time you hear them, it’s best to be surprised.

Nick Lowe – “Cold Grey Light of Dawn” 1998 from Dig My Mood. I’ve always known this was an old country song, but I only just now decided to look into where it came from. It looks to me that it was first recorded by Johnny Bush in 1973, and his version is a corker, worth hearing so much that I’m posting it as a bonus video here. I wonder if Lowe was half-remembering it when he recorded his take on it, since there are a couple of lyric changes, most notably “Those same three walls keep coming on” instead of “These old grey walls are coming on” when comparing his existence to being in a tomb. A three-sided tomb doesn’t sound all that scary, unless it’s a pyramid, I guess. Anyway, Lowe sings more as though he’s used to ennui than Bush, who sounds like he’s at the end of his rope. Steve Donnelly’s lead guitar on Lowe’s version is revved up, while whoever plays steel on Bush’s cut takes first place. Lowe adds strings to the song while Bush is pure honky tonk. A great song in both versions.

Porter Wagoner & Doily Parton – “We’d Have to Be Crazy” 1974 from Porter ‘n’ Dolly. I really want to believe the vocals on this track were actually as spontaneous as they sound. Wagoner and Parton, near the end of their long partnership, sound like two best friends having a blast while the tape just happens to be rolling. The song isn’t all that much – the pun is pretty obvious, that they have to be crazy to be so crazy about each other. But it’s got an invigorating country tune, and the band is cooking. Wagoner and Parton start out singing it straight, but then start cracking each other up, tossing in asides like “The only trouble is you’re crazy when you’re ain’t about me” and “Shut up and sing.” There’s one verse Wagoner barely gets through. They’re both laughing so hard. It ends with Wagoner saying, “You’re gone kid,” and Parton answering, “The only thing is, I took you with me” before Wagoner says, “This has been recording” and Parton laughs. If it wasn’t real, it’s a brilliant fake-out. Either way, it makes me happy to know it exists.