Friday, March 27, 2020

Review of The Smiths' "Best... I"

I posted this earlier tonight on the Sputnik Music website.


Review Summary: A solid sampling of music by one of the iconic bands of the eighties.

For an obsessive-compulsive nutjob like myself, The Smiths are a frustrating band. I say this because with most artists whose music you really like, if you collect all of their studio LPs, you basically have all (or at least most) of their best songs. Not so with these guys. They only ever recorded four proper studio albums (which I guess isn't that terrible, considering the band only actually existed for a little over five years.) And because they concentrated a lot on singles, many of which weren't later tacked onto a studio LP, maybe as much as 40% or so of their best stuff never found its way to one of those big four albums.

This forces those of us Smiths lovers who still enjoy the album format to pick up one or more of the band's compilation albums to fill in the gaps. But what to choose?

Hatful of Hollow (1984) and Louder Than Bombs (1987) have always been popular choices. The former is the best-selling Smiths comp in the UK, going platinum there, while the latter went gold in both the U.S. and the UK. For myself, though, I've always liked the two 1992 companion albums, Best... I and ...Best II. These were both released by Warner (on the WEA label in Britain and the Sire label in the United States) shortly after that company had purchased the rights to The Smiths' back catalog. For the purposes of this review, we'll be focusing on the first of these, Best...I.

There are 14 tracks on Best... I, which includes seven songs not previously released on one of The Smiths' four studio LPs, plus single versions of "This Charming Man", "Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before", and "Girlfriend in a Coma". It also includes the album versions of "What Difference Does It Make?", "How Soon Is Now?", "Hand in Glove" and "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others".

Some of the material never included on a studio LP are classic Smiths songs. My personal favorite is "Panic". (You know -- the "Hang the DJ" song!) But many of the others are also iconic eighties tracks, including "Shoplifters of the World Unite", "Sheila Take a Bow", and "William, It Was Really Nothing". And B-Sides like "Half a Person" (the six-years-on-your-trail song) and "Rubber Ring" have received their share of airplay over the years, as well.

The Smiths were one of the great bands of the eighties. They were absolutely huge in the UK, and had a strong following (especially along the East and West Coasts) in the U.S. as well. While there are certainly other Smiths compilations to choose from, Best... I will give someone not previously familiar with their music a taste of some of their strongest material, and will give people who are already fans a chance to collect some of the finest tracks not released on any of their studio LPs.


Rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

Saturday, March 21, 2020

Review of The Go-Go's' "Vacation"

I posted this review earlier today on the Sputnik Music website. It was the only one of the band's four studio albums that didn't previously have one. Now it does.


Review Summary: A bit of a letdown after their debut LP, but the title track kicks butt.

Within just a few years, The Go-Go's went from being a bunch of California party girls who could barely play their instruments to being one of most successful groups of the early '80s. Their 1981 debut LP Beauty and the Beat reached the top of the Billboard charts, and eventually went double platinum - not bad for a band that had been spit at and booed off the stage on their first British tour shortly before the album's release.

With so much sudden success, the question was what would they do for a follow-up. The answer was 1982's Vacation. Was it a good answer? Well, yes and no.

The truth was, the climb to success took a toll on The Go-Go's. Most of them were in their mid-20's, and in addition to finding the rocket trip to the top of the musical mountain a bit dizzying, their hard-touring lifestyle, which included a lot of sex, drugs and alcohol, had taken a lot out of them. The pressure was on to keep the music coming, but the band was also seriously burnt out. The result of all of this was an album considerably less consistent than their debut effort, but one that still showed flashes of brilliance.

Not surprisingly, the hoss of the LP was a song about how badly The Go-Go's needed some time off, the title track "Vacation". It was their second most successful single ever, and is inarguably one of the iconic tracks of the 1980s. And in fact, it's still so well recognized that just last year, Marvel Studios used it for the closing titles of their Spider-Man: Far From Home movie.

Beyond that, though, the album is a little bit hit and miss. I've always found "Girl of 100 Lists" to be a fun song, and "Beatnik Beach" is an enjoyable and whimsical bit of surf rock. "Cool Jerk", a cover of a 1960s song by The Capitols, has always been popular with Go-Go's fans, even if it's right on the borderline between smile-inducing and cringeworthy. (It does have a pretty cool bassline, though.)

"Get Up and Go" had some minor success on the singles charts, but "This Old Feeling", which was also released as a single, didn't really do much of anything. As for the rest of the LP, there's nothing on it that's bad, but not much that's really memorable either.

The Go-Go's definitely deserve a place of honor in rock and roll history. They are, to date, the only all-female band that both wrote their own songs and played their own instruments to ever top the Billboard charts. And in a lot of ways, they could be considered one of the pioneers of pop punk. That being the case, Vacation also has its place in history, as it's one of the only four studio albums the band ever released. It's certainly not their strongest album overall - I actually consider it their weakest, although I know I'm in the minority there. But the title track by itself makes it worthy of being remembered - it's a frickin' killer - and the rest of the LP is at least OK.


Rating: 2.5 of 5 stars

Friday, March 13, 2020

Coronavirus Blues Part 2

Not even a decision to be made about tonight, as the South Country Library sent out an email that they are cancelling all of their group events through the end of the month. I assume the Fiddler's Green concert is included in that. Also got the official word from the Paramount that next week's Howard Jones concert has been cancelled, too. NYC Mayor DeBlasio held a press conference yesterday saying that he expects the Governor's 500-people-event edict to last a "number of months", which might well torpedo the upcoming Grouplove concert at the Paramount in the beginning of May, as well.

So I think we're all going to have to hunker down and entertain ourselves for at least the next few months.

On the upside, I ran into my son's buddy at McDonald's this morning. He was speaking with my son last night, and he assures me that he is, in fact, having fun on the cruise, so I'm happy about that.

Anyway, stay healthy my friends.

Thursday, March 12, 2020

Coronavirus Blues

Geez, Cuomo just shut down Broadway. Combine that with the fact that the NHL, MLB, NBA and NCAA and have all suspended their seasons, and I guess I'm going to actually have to take this thing seriously.

With Denise and my son away, I had big plans over the next three days. Was planning to see Cabaret at the Argyle Theater tonight, the band Fiddler's Green at the South Country Library tomorrow, and Guys and Dolls at the Bayway Arts Center on Saturday. But as a 63-year-old diabetic father and husband of a family that isn't ready to lose me yet, guess I'm going to have to do the responsible thing and stay home. Might change my mind tomorrow, but at least for tonight, I'm going to call off my activities. Responsibility sucks. (At least I didn't buy any tickets, so I won't be out any money.)

Pretty sure next week's Howard Jones concert at the Paramount is dead, too. (Denise will be bummed about that one.) Cuomo's new directive prohibits gatherings of 500 or more people, and the Paramount holds about three times that amount. Sure glad I got to go to my Cherish the Ladies show the other night.

Meanwhile, I've been following Denise's cruise on Facebook. About two thirds of the headlining bands have cancelled (The B-52's, Brett Michaels, Loverboy, Dire Straits), but she seems to still be having a great time with the ones that did show up (Tony Hadley of Spandau Ballet, Big Country, Berlin, etc.). My son, not so much, but he's a hip-hop lover, not an eighties kid. I keep seeing a lot about room service for him.

I'm wondering how they're going to do with getting home from Florida on Sunday, and what the flight situation will be. Luckily, we have a ton of people down in Florida, so if they have trouble getting home, I'm sure they'll have someplace to stay. My daughter, her boyfriend, the three cats and myself will have to hold down the home front until they make it back.

On the upside, I had a huge fight with Ticketmaster last week when I discovered that the Alice Cooper tickets I bought for this June couldn't be printed out, you have to show them on your cell phone. Hello, flip phone here! They refused to refund my money. Now, maybe they'll have to, if the current crowd restrictions are still in effect then. So bite me, Ticketmaster!

Anyway, welcome to the wonderful age of coronavirus. All that's missing is the zombies.

Monday, March 9, 2020

Cherish The Ladies

I've been writing a lot lately about Joni Mitchell. Today I'll be writing about a different Joanie.

So yesterday was a weird birthday. It started with having to get up early for work, as I had a 9AM staff meeting in Little Neck. Now it's not all that unusual for me to work on my birthday. I spent most of the last two decades working as a proofreader in a company where early-to-mid March was the height of our busy season, so not only was I working every birthday, more often than not, I was working overtime.

But in my current job, we have these staff meetings once a month, and they tend to wipe me out for the rest of the day. This is because my normal sleep schedule finds me up until three or four in the morning and sleeping until eleven or twelve. I find it hard to alter that, so usually, I wind up going to these meetings on about four-to-six hours of sleep. And inevitably, there's always something cool going on later that night that I might or might not have the energy to make it out to. These days, my principle is that I'll go to something local on that Saturday night if I'm driving myself, or I'll maybe go as far as the Tilles Center or the Westbury Music Fair if Denise is driving.

But this Saturday was different because this was also the weekend where Denise was going on her eighties cruise. She was originally supposed to go with a friend. But her friend has some health issues, and a compromised immune system, and in the wake of all this coronavirus stuff, she dropped out. I considered going in her place, but I have a lot of work obligations this week, and I've gotten to a point where I hate traveling besides. I love cruising, but the thought of flying to Miami (and dealing with the whole two-seats-on-an-airline thing because of my weight) just felt like too much. Eventually, we worked it out that my son would go on the cruise with her, which I felt good about. My son would throw himself in front of a bullet to protect Denise, or myself too, for that matter. So I felt good that I knew he'd have her back, help her with her bags, etc.

So anyway, I got even less sleep Friday night than I usually do on the night before my staff meeting, knowing Denise and my son were traveling in the morning too. (And I realized as we were getting dressed this morning that this is the first time since Denise and I got married in 1995 that this is the first time we'll be apart for a whole week.)

I got out to my staff meeting on time, and over the course of the morning (and the rest of the day), I got updates from Denise -- they got on the plane OK, they made it to the hotel OK, etc. (They were sailing out the next morning.)

In the meantime, I got home about 2:30, and after getting a birthday call from a high school friend I haven't spoken to for awhile, I was able to lay down for an afternoon nap. This, and knowing that the traveling was going well, put me in a good state of mind for the night. If you haven't guessed from the title of the  blog post, I was going out to see Cherish The Ladies at the Patchogue Theater.

I got up about 7, and was just about the walk out the door, when I got intercepted by my daughter and her boyfriend. They had a birthday card and mini-apple pie for me. They also had a piece of cheesecake that they put a candle in order to sing "Happy Birthday" to me. (And thankfully I see that that song has just finally made it into the public domain, so they won't even have to pay a performance fee.)

I left about 7:20, parked across the street in the back, and made it into the lobby of the Patchogue Theater by 7:40. As I got on line to buy my bottle of water, they announced that the house was now open.

I found my way to my seat easily (as I was in the same seat I usually buy, on the aisle in the second row), and relaxed to enjoy the show. Given the Runa disaster of a couple of years ago, I was pleasantly surprised to see a mostly packed house. The entire middle section on the floor was sold out, and the wings were almost full as well (except for the back few rows.) I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like more than half of the balcony was full too. This made me proud of my people -- coronavirus be damned! The Irish are in the house!

Before too long, Cherish The Ladies took the stage. For the unfamiliar, they are an all-female Celtic music band that started in The Bronx. Joanie Madden, the band's founder and leader, still hails from The Bronx, although the other members of the current lineup come from various other places. Madden plays the flute and tin whistle. She is joined by original member and co-founder Mary Coogan from Newburgh, NY on guitar; Nollaig Casey, from County Cork in Ireland on fiddle; Mirella Murray from County Galway, Ireland on accordion; and Kathleen Boyle from Glasgow, Scotland (although her parents are from Ireland) on piano. The show also featured Kate Purcell from County Clare, Ireland as an occasional guest vocalist (with Madden and Boyle providing harmonies), plus three male Irish step dancers, David Geaney, Michael Holland, and Declan Crowley. Coogan's husband Bruce Foley also joined the band in the second set to sing lead and play guitar on "The Three Sea Captains" (which was one of the highlights of the night).

Now Madden announced at the beginning of the night that the band had never played in Patchogue before, but she was mistaken. The first time I ever saw them was fifteen or twenty years ago at an Irish music festival in Patchogue's Shorefront Park. She made it clear, though, that she hopes to come back to the Patchogue Theater again.

The show was very nicely planned, with instrumental songs interspersed with Purcell's vocal numbers, occasionally accompanied by one, two or all three of the step dancers. Madden, who served as the band's front person, made snappy remarks and told amusing stories throughout the evening, much as Paddy Moloney does with The Chieftains. The funniest line of the night, though, probably came from Ms. Boyle, who declared that she was half Irish and half Scottish, and she had finally figured out what that means: "I like to drink, but I hate to pay for it."

Some of my favorite songs of the night included Purcell's rendition of "Nora Lee" (an Irish folk song from the 1700's that Elvis Presley made famous as "Love Me Tender"); the instrumental medley of "Gloria's Travels/Galloping to the Glen/The Montana Reel"; and the first song of the encore, the classic  folk song "Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go?".

There really wasn't a weak spot during the night. The band itself is quite tight, and has great dynamics -- they can all fire it up at once, but they're not afraid to let you enjoy the quiet spots, either.

I hope the Patchogue Theater does book them again in the near future. I waited almost two decades for Cherish The Ladies to come back to Patchogue, but their show was worth the wait.

The full setlist for the performance can be found at IrishLadiesRule.com.


Wednesday, March 4, 2020

February 2020 Song of the Day

For new readers, this refers to the monthly Song of the Day list on the Sputnik Music website. Each month, one user hosts the list and names a theme. Everyone then recommends songs in line with this theme, and people rate the various song recommendations.

1. The theme for the month was to pick a song that represented your grandparents' taste in music. I found this to be a different, and kind of fun theme. (It also set off all kinds of memories for me, not only of my grandparents but of my parents as well.) I think some of our usual participants were put off by it, though, as a smaller number of users took part in it than usual. (Which is why I had two picks for the month instead of just one.)

2. My first rec for the month was a song my paternal grandmother (whose name was Margaret) always liked when my father (who was an amateur singer/singing bartender) sang to her: "Margie" by the Italian saloon song singer, Jimmy Roselli. My second pick was one I remember my maternal grandmother liking, "Lazy River" by The Mills Brothers.

3. My highest-rated song was a movement from act III of Wagner's Die Walkure (known by many as the song they napalm the Viet Cong to in Apocalypse Now, and known by me as the song Elmer Fudd sings "Kill the wabbit!" to in Bugs Bunny cartoons.)

4. However, the highest-rated song of the month by the group as a whole was "Something" by The Beatles. Of course, my grandparents saw The Beatles as a bunch of long-haired drug-using hippy freaks. But most of the Sputnik guys are a lot younger than I am, and their grandparents are about my age. (Sigh.)

The link to the playlist for the month, minus one song that wasn't up on YouTube, is February 2020 Song of the Day.

Tuesday, March 3, 2020

Review of Joni Mitchell's "Don Juan's Reckless Daughter"

I hadn't planned on reviewing this LP anytime soon. But one of the guys on the Sputnik Music site responded to my review of Song for a Seagull by reviewing The Hissing of Summer Lawns. And with that inspiration (plus the fact that I was listening to so much Joni recently in preparation for the Favorite Artists piece), I figured there would never be a better time to write it. This will probably be last Joni review for the foreseeable future, for reasons that will become obvious when you read this one. (Sputnik Music now has at least one review posted for every Joni Mitchell LP from the first one through this one.) If anything, maybe one day I'll go back and review the two new live comps for pre-Seagull Joni, The Complete Let's Sing Out Sessions: 1965-66 and The Complete 2nd Fret Sessions: 1966-67. Or maybe I won't.

In any event, I posted this review this afternoon on the Sputnik Music website:


Review Summary: I wanted to hold onto my relationship with Joni, but it wasn't to be. We had grown apart.

I loved Joni Mitchell deeply, and with my whole heart. I still do. That's why Don Juan's Reckless Daughter is such a bittersweet album for me. You see, it was our breakup album.

The first time I ever heard Joni Mitchell sing was on a radio broadcast of a concert she did with James Taylor. It was love at first listen. It was never about looks, although she was certainly a beautiful woman. No, I loved her for her soul, as reflected through her shudderingly beautiful voice, her unique instrumentation and the power of her songwriting.

For the next few years we were an item, all through the days of Clouds (1969), Ladies of the Canyon (1970) and Blue (1971). We hit a minor rough spot with For the Roses (1972), but like all true soul mates, we worked it out, and our relationship was better than ever during Joni's Court and Spark (1974) period. The sky seemed the limit for our love. But things weren't as good as they seemed.

What happened to our relationship? Who's to say? I believe everything started going downhill with The Hissing of Summer Lawns (1975) because Joni started to change. Her songs got more free flowing, and she started sneaking off and listening to (shudder) jazz! Joni would tell you that I started ignoring her, and that was true. I didn't even purchase either Lawns or Hejeira (1976). And truthfully, maybe I was a little shallow. Joni was starting to the age, and that and all of the cigarettes she had over the years smoked made that lovely, ethereal voice of hers start to drop.

I did try, though. In 1977, when Don Juan's Reckless Daughter was released, I was at the front of the line, buying my copy. I wanted to love the album through and through. And I tried. I really did.

Truth is, there's a lot to admire about this LP. It's Joni's first double-sized studio album, and that's kind of cool. And Joni took a shot at her first long, extended piece of music with "Paprika Plains", which took up all of Side 2 of the first record. Pretty impressive, don't you think? Besides, even if Joni had lost the power to completely captivate and overpower you with her singing alone, she still possessed a really soulful voice that could pierce you right through to your heart.

The problem was in the consistency, though. There are some terrific moments of music on Don Juan. But unfortunately, they're sprinkled throughout. Both "Paprika Plains" and "Don Juan's Reckless Daughter" start out strong, then lose you somewhere in the middle. "Jericho" is a neat little song, but it was actually done better three years earlier on Joni's live Miles of Aisles album. In all, many of the songs here are kind of shapeless, and sometimes even boring. "Dreamland" is a strong number, with some great percussion. But it's probably the only track on the LP that is solid from beginning to end.

I wanted to love Don Juan's Reckless Daughter as much as I loved Joni. In the end, all I could do was respect it.

Shortly after that, Joni started flirting with Charles Mingus, and I knew that she and I were through. Joni would tell you that she'd kept growing as a person, and that I just couldn't handle it. And she's probably right.

So when I listen to this album, I do so with sadness. I think back to the better days, of nights in the city and Chelsea mornings, the days when our love was strong and I was still courtin' and sparkin' her, and I wish we'd been able to stay together. But like Don Juan's reckless daughter herself, Joni was just too busy being free. I'll always be grateful for the time we had together. But this was where we ended it.


Rating: 2.5 of 5 stars