The Musical ConcernElvis Costello
Secret, Profane & Sugarcane
(June 2, 2009 -- Hear Music)
Break out the ol’ Victrola, better yet sheet music! Although you’ll be able to listen to this one on something other than the “talking machine,” I bet it would sound sensational on thick-as-asphalt, 78, black vinyl under a needle fit for quilting.
On his umpteenth studio album, Elvis Costello displays a fondness for the ‘50s. And by ‘50s, I mean the 1850s. That’s when music was music and pop singles were delivered by live musicians and singers taking their cues from ink on parchment. Or so I’m told.
While bluegrass arrangements command the spotlight here, four seemingly fish-out-of-water songs (originally written for Royal Danish Opera) ultimately define the collection. These are the “secret” songs alluded to in the title. The “profane” pieces are in the Hillbilly tradition, and the “sugarcane” songs pay homage to New Orleans jazz.
Creative partners, real and imagined, include T Bone Burnett, P.T. Barnum, Emmylou Harris, and 19th century pop star Jenny Lind. The entire collection hangs together quiet well as an exploration of the American Song Book (Ken Burns lurks in the shadows), with the Big E adroitly commanding progressions, melodies, and modulations.
Tumble down lyrics and a cascading vocal delivery put the Costello fan at ease. The tall tales are raucous and the love stories are tender and unsettling. To love is to love; the very nature of this record is familiarity.
Burnett has never been better in the producer’s role. His keen handling of microphone placement renders a sheen that is beguiling, a little raw, and plenty percussive when it needs to be (no drums on this one).
Winding through thirteen cuts, Jerry Douglas (Dobro), Stuart Duncan (Fiddle & Banjo), Mike Compton (Mandolin), Dennis Crouch (Double Bass), Jeff Taylor (Accordion), Jim Lauderdale (backing vocals), and Emmylou Harris (backing vocals) helped to fashion, in a scant three days, a spirited, if somewhat academic, song cycle.
Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane will sit well in the EC canon, somewhere between King of America and The River In Reverse. But, intentionally or not (probably not), this album smacks a bit too much of the didactic. It’s not completely at ease with coffee on a Sunday morning, and there’s zero chance of it being the hit at your next kegger. On the flip side, as the Hot-As-End-Times-Summer encroaches, you could do much worse on a late evening, with the heat burning off and the breeze starting up.
It’ll be all the more enjoyable if you know that P.T. Barnum invented celebrity, and Jenny Lind was the original Paris Hilton.
JH
Digging Up Bones
Bob Dylan
Slow Train Coming
(August, 1979 -- Columbia)
Jesus H. Christ! What was all the fuss about? By 1979 Bob Dylan had already gutted Greenwich Village, told the folkies to go “get bent,” pissed off a sizable part of Europe with his electric country rock, vanished from sight for an obscene length of time, and, finally, joined The Church.
So, did you think he was just horsing around when he dumped you again? Musically?
It’s really funny to revisit the scandal that was Bob Dylan’s conversion to Christianity. It’s funny to hear the audio clips of Dylan preaching the gospel on stage. It’s funny to see video clips of disgruntled and dejected concertgoers exiting a Bill Graham venue in San Francisco – “I want my money back.”
I think of the fable that ends with a venomous snake telling a freshly bitten Good Samaritan, “You knew what I was when you picked me up.”
Of the things I love about Dylan – the sneer, the bad vocals, the mind bending poetry – I love his shape-shifting public persona the most. (Ya gotta revel in what he did to the folkies!)
Anyway, it’s 1979 and Dylan has hooked up with a new age evangelical church that caters feel good Jesus to the Hollywood crowd. Caught up in the rapture of his newfound faith he does what Dylan does – he makes a record that bares witness. The fans freak out. The critics go nuts. And he picks up his very first Grammy.
Slow Train Coming was recorded in Muscle Shoals, Alabama and produced by the legendary Jerry Wexler. It broke into the top 3 on both the U.S. and the U.K. album charts. "Gotta Serve Somebody," the opening track, is probably the most familiar to fans and non-fans alike. Beyond that, the title track may jog your memory. The rest of the record is largely overlooked, I suppose because of its “Christian” nature.
Resident nonsense aside, this is strong Dylan record. Indeed, if one straps on the blinders and takes religion with a grain of salt, there is good rock-n-blues to be had. Further, if you listen to music in a broad historic sense, you may well hear this album as a study of gospel, Americana, or, as with the final cut, hymn.
So with a fresh approach…
"Precious Angel" (track #2): Taken as an ode to a loved one, this is a gentle rolling expose of good humans being good to one another. It’s one of those rare tracks that runs 6:29 and still seems short.
"I Believe In You" (track #3): A nice nod to southern rock in the contemplative style. Shucking the sentimental for a flesh-and-blood hero – one that you know, personally.
"Slow Train Coming" (track #4): A slow blues burner replete with political prophecy. Possibly more poignant today than when it was released.
"When He Returns" (track #9): The benediction. A study in the gospel hymn. Vocal and thundering piano, tempting the most hardened atheist.
Dylan pursued slickery Christianity through a second born-again phase with Saved, a record released in 1980 and subsequently buried by Columbia as they succumbed to a steep case of “the nerves.” The first seven cuts are an absolute addendum to Slow Train Coming. As Wexler phones in the production at this point, a new musical freedom rears its beautiful head on Saved, and the outcome is pure Dylan.
Hey, if it all gets too heavy, just substitute a pronoun for the almighty and see what happens.
JH
Break out the ol’ Victrola, better yet sheet music! Although you’ll be able to listen to this one on something other than the “talking machine,” I bet it would sound sensational on thick-as-asphalt, 78, black vinyl under a needle fit for quilting.
On his umpteenth studio album, Elvis Costello displays a fondness for the ‘50s. And by ‘50s, I mean the 1850s. That’s when music was music and pop singles were delivered by live musicians and singers taking their cues from ink on parchment. Or so I’m told.
While bluegrass arrangements command the spotlight here, four seemingly fish-out-of-water songs (originally written for Royal Danish Opera) ultimately define the collection. These are the “secret” songs alluded to in the title. The “profane” pieces are in the Hillbilly tradition, and the “sugarcane” songs pay homage to New Orleans jazz.
Creative partners, real and imagined, include T Bone Burnett, P.T. Barnum, Emmylou Harris, and 19th century pop star Jenny Lind. The entire collection hangs together quiet well as an exploration of the American Song Book (Ken Burns lurks in the shadows), with the Big E adroitly commanding progressions, melodies, and modulations.
Tumble down lyrics and a cascading vocal delivery put the Costello fan at ease. The tall tales are raucous and the love stories are tender and unsettling. To love is to love; the very nature of this record is familiarity.
Burnett has never been better in the producer’s role. His keen handling of microphone placement renders a sheen that is beguiling, a little raw, and plenty percussive when it needs to be (no drums on this one).
Winding through thirteen cuts, Jerry Douglas (Dobro), Stuart Duncan (Fiddle & Banjo), Mike Compton (Mandolin), Dennis Crouch (Double Bass), Jeff Taylor (Accordion), Jim Lauderdale (backing vocals), and Emmylou Harris (backing vocals) helped to fashion, in a scant three days, a spirited, if somewhat academic, song cycle.
Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane will sit well in the EC canon, somewhere between King of America and The River In Reverse. But, intentionally or not (probably not), this album smacks a bit too much of the didactic. It’s not completely at ease with coffee on a Sunday morning, and there’s zero chance of it being the hit at your next kegger. On the flip side, as the Hot-As-End-Times-Summer encroaches, you could do much worse on a late evening, with the heat burning off and the breeze starting up.
It’ll be all the more enjoyable if you know that P.T. Barnum invented celebrity, and Jenny Lind was the original Paris Hilton.
JH
Digging Up BonesBob Dylan
Slow Train Coming
(August, 1979 -- Columbia)
Jesus H. Christ! What was all the fuss about? By 1979 Bob Dylan had already gutted Greenwich Village, told the folkies to go “get bent,” pissed off a sizable part of Europe with his electric country rock, vanished from sight for an obscene length of time, and, finally, joined The Church.
So, did you think he was just horsing around when he dumped you again? Musically?
It’s really funny to revisit the scandal that was Bob Dylan’s conversion to Christianity. It’s funny to hear the audio clips of Dylan preaching the gospel on stage. It’s funny to see video clips of disgruntled and dejected concertgoers exiting a Bill Graham venue in San Francisco – “I want my money back.”
I think of the fable that ends with a venomous snake telling a freshly bitten Good Samaritan, “You knew what I was when you picked me up.”
Of the things I love about Dylan – the sneer, the bad vocals, the mind bending poetry – I love his shape-shifting public persona the most. (Ya gotta revel in what he did to the folkies!)
Anyway, it’s 1979 and Dylan has hooked up with a new age evangelical church that caters feel good Jesus to the Hollywood crowd. Caught up in the rapture of his newfound faith he does what Dylan does – he makes a record that bares witness. The fans freak out. The critics go nuts. And he picks up his very first Grammy.
Slow Train Coming was recorded in Muscle Shoals, Alabama and produced by the legendary Jerry Wexler. It broke into the top 3 on both the U.S. and the U.K. album charts. "Gotta Serve Somebody," the opening track, is probably the most familiar to fans and non-fans alike. Beyond that, the title track may jog your memory. The rest of the record is largely overlooked, I suppose because of its “Christian” nature.
Resident nonsense aside, this is strong Dylan record. Indeed, if one straps on the blinders and takes religion with a grain of salt, there is good rock-n-blues to be had. Further, if you listen to music in a broad historic sense, you may well hear this album as a study of gospel, Americana, or, as with the final cut, hymn.
So with a fresh approach…
"Precious Angel" (track #2): Taken as an ode to a loved one, this is a gentle rolling expose of good humans being good to one another. It’s one of those rare tracks that runs 6:29 and still seems short.
"I Believe In You" (track #3): A nice nod to southern rock in the contemplative style. Shucking the sentimental for a flesh-and-blood hero – one that you know, personally.
"Slow Train Coming" (track #4): A slow blues burner replete with political prophecy. Possibly more poignant today than when it was released.
"When He Returns" (track #9): The benediction. A study in the gospel hymn. Vocal and thundering piano, tempting the most hardened atheist.
Dylan pursued slickery Christianity through a second born-again phase with Saved, a record released in 1980 and subsequently buried by Columbia as they succumbed to a steep case of “the nerves.” The first seven cuts are an absolute addendum to Slow Train Coming. As Wexler phones in the production at this point, a new musical freedom rears its beautiful head on Saved, and the outcome is pure Dylan.
Hey, if it all gets too heavy, just substitute a pronoun for the almighty and see what happens.
JH
The Gulf Coast Dispatch:Heads up from the Gulf Coast, United States
Well, this is what it came to. The economy growled and I spit. Bye, bye Atlanta town, hello Gulf Coast, USA. I retreated to think and write and hang out close to the water.
That was back in April.
I’m settled in now; the fiction is coming along, but I’ve become somewhat detached from music, especially new music. To fix that, I decided to put together a "music weekly." Also, I’ve added this personal notes section to demonstrate my overdeveloped talent for versatility.
So, it's new records, old records, and some slice-o-life stuff every week. I have to keep writing, and it’s good to get away from the nut-job characters that command the "fictive dream."
Anyway, expect newsletters, twitters, facebookings, and my companion listening post on IMEEM.
Also, I’ll work on keeping it short(er).
Meantime, COMMENT! Let me know when I get it wrong. When you disagree. When you’ve heard or read something fantastic. Where you are. What you’re up to. Who you’re doin’. Why your milkshake brings all th’ boys to the yard. Damn right.
By the way, my new neighbor fell three hundred feet from a helicopter back in Vietnam. Now-a-days he trolls the 'hood on a lawn tractor 24-7. I’ll tell you more about him some time.
Peace,
JH
I’m settled in now; the fiction is coming along, but I’ve become somewhat detached from music, especially new music. To fix that, I decided to put together a "music weekly." Also, I’ve added this personal notes section to demonstrate my overdeveloped talent for versatility.
So, it's new records, old records, and some slice-o-life stuff every week. I have to keep writing, and it’s good to get away from the nut-job characters that command the "fictive dream."
Anyway, expect newsletters, twitters, facebookings, and my companion listening post on IMEEM.
Also, I’ll work on keeping it short(er).
Meantime, COMMENT! Let me know when I get it wrong. When you disagree. When you’ve heard or read something fantastic. Where you are. What you’re up to. Who you’re doin’. Why your milkshake brings all th’ boys to the yard. Damn right.
By the way, my new neighbor fell three hundred feet from a helicopter back in Vietnam. Now-a-days he trolls the 'hood on a lawn tractor 24-7. I’ll tell you more about him some time.
Peace,
JH
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