More the forty years after Robert Plant joined Led Zeppelin, his prior group The Band of Joy finally has a record. Well, sort of.
By Pico
This week the biggest buzz about a new record by an aging rock start is Neil Young's Daniel Lanois-produced Le Noise, and rightfully so, but a few of the other guys who were making records in 1973 or so returned with records that seek to recapture some of that old glory. We were here doing one of those type of Quickies just a mere two weeks ago, but this month has picked up momentum and there's since been a few more out that's worth a mention or two.
Three old timey acts and three more new records. It's baby boomer bliss...
Robert Plant Band Of Joy
Band of Joy resurrects a name that was the moniker for a band that Plant and John Bonham were in before being recruited by Jimmy Page to join a new incarnation of the Yardbirds. That “new incarnation," of course, soon adopted the name Led Zeppelin and the rest is rock history. On Band Of Joy, Plant seems to look back a lot, but not necessarily to that band. He is looking back to Zeppelin, his prior solo records, and yes, most definitely just a couple of years back to Raising Sand, while moving forward with facets he's revealed over a period of four decades. This album is a modern roots record, one that covers country, blues, folk and vintage rock 'n' roll; areas traversed there and back by Plant over his career with Zeppelin, solo, and even the original Band of Joy.
The production for this affair is handled jointly by Plant and country andAmericana guitarist/composer/producer Buddy Miller, who toured with Plant and Krauss tour in support of their album. Miller brings not only his guitar and bass, but carries over some of T. Bone Burnett's analog sonorities and an aversion to treble. He also isn't ignoring the 21st century, either, but the modern and throwback touches co-exist comfortably beside each other. Plant, for his part, made brilliant selections for these twelve covers. They are all obscure, traversing an amazing cross -section of sources, from Los Lobos ("Angel Dance,") to Richard and Linda Thompson ("House of Cards") to a couple by slowcore masters Low. In Plant's hands, they become his songs. The biggest delightful surprise is “You Can't Buy My Love," a forgotten Barbara Lynn hit in the UK from the 60's, a rewrite of the Beatles' “Can't Buy Me Love" and played with a snappy, innocent enthusiasm that features a muscular Chris Squire styled bass. An odd combination, but it works.
Plant also brought in folk singer Patty Griffin to harmonize with him, and while Griffin takes no lead vocals on her own, her voice actually blends in better with Plant than Krauss did; she is simply sublime on “Monkey."
Band Of Joy picks up a couple of tricks learned from Raising Sand, but skillfully avoids making Band Of Joy a Raising Sand, Part 2. The ultimate triumph of this record, however, is the blurring of electric with acoustic; the reconciling of the sounds of the present with the sounds of the past; and the conversion of the obscure to the familiar.
Phil Collins Going Back
I had thought Phil Collins had stopped making regular studio records altogether, and I'll bet many of you did, too. After all, it's been eight years since Testify and he seemed to have settled into a successful little niche of making soundtrack music. However, this week there is new studio Phil Collins album out, Going Back. But if you're looking for new P.C. material, you're going to be disappointed because this album fetes the Motown music he admired growing up and as a young man drumming in a little-known band called Genesis.
Looking back at Collins' solo career through the 80s and 90s, it's clear he was trying to incorporate those influences into his own music (beyond the obvious 1983 hit, his remake of The Supremes' “You Can't Hurry Love"), so his attachment to Motown is sincere, strong and long-running.
Recording a set of Motown covers was a sensible move for Collins, but the timing of it seems a bit curious; the interest in this kind of music as nostalgia was kicked off by The Big Chill soundtrack (1983) and continued on through a parade of tributes in the 80's and 90's. Michael McDonald's own tribute already appeared after the trend had run its course, but at least McDonald injected his own style into them. Collins, in contrast, strained to recreate the whole arrangements and sonic textures of the originals, even going as far as to bring in the Funk Brothers as session players for this project. Collins sings plenty competently for these songs and does succeed in bringing listeners “back," but in doing so makes one pine for the original versions because he makes no attempt to add anything to them (as McDonald had done). Collins' straight rendition of “Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me A Little While)" only serves to highlight what an imaginative remake can do for a song, as the Doobie Brothers did for this song and made it into an even bigger hit.
So, in the end, as well done as Going Back is, Phil Collins made it strictly for his own satisfaction, and for anyone who wants to hear the same familiar songs played in the same familiar way, but by someone else.
Bachman And Turner Bachman And Turner
Last week we made some hay over a new band who recalled hard rock's 70s glory days, but Black Country Communion is more of a British hard rock vibe. No one represented Canadian (or North American) meat and potatoes hard rock better than Bachman-Turner Overdrive. For fans of that kind of rock, there's some great news: Randy Bachman and Fred Turner reunited for the first time since the mid-70s and on September 7 issued a record of all new tunes that reside entirely in the spirit of the old BTO, called, simply, Bachman And Turner.
It was reunion that happened by accident. When Randy Bachman invited Fred Turner to make a vocal appearance on a track for Bachman's next solo project, the guest turn sparked a a full-fledged joining of forces, and Turner ended up contributing tracks as well as more vocals, while Bachman shelved tracks that didn't fit, including cuts that featured other Canadian icons like Jeff Healey and Neil Young. That's how good Bachman must have felt about this reunion. As it turns out, his vibe was right.
Turner's full throated voice is completely intact, as are Bachman's massive riffs and chops. For anyone else playing guitar like that, I'd be tempted to call it clichéd, but Bachman invented these much-imitated licks. Nearly every song is trying to be some rock and roll anthem and many of them succeed: listening to “Rollin' Along," “Moonlight Rider," “Slave To The Rhythm" and “Repo Man" is almost like tuning in to an AM rock radio station back in the day. “Can't Go Back To Memphis" is great blooz rock and “That's What It Is" is powered by Bachman's trademark shuffle. “Rock And Roll Is The Only Way Out" is a half-hearted attempt at rap, the only real misstep on the entire record.
So why not make it official and call it a BTO album? Blame it on some legal stuff. But it doesn't take a lawyer to figure out that this is a record by the same masterminds behind one of the most successful hard rockin' bands of the Watergate era. This is a welcome return for the two co-frontmen in a group that made some great feel-good rockers. Bachman And Turner brings back that same feeling.
By Pico
This week the biggest buzz about a new record by an aging rock start is Neil Young's Daniel Lanois-produced Le Noise, and rightfully so, but a few of the other guys who were making records in 1973 or so returned with records that seek to recapture some of that old glory. We were here doing one of those type of Quickies just a mere two weeks ago, but this month has picked up momentum and there's since been a few more out that's worth a mention or two.
Three old timey acts and three more new records. It's baby boomer bliss...
Robert Plant Band Of Joy
Band of Joy resurrects a name that was the moniker for a band that Plant and John Bonham were in before being recruited by Jimmy Page to join a new incarnation of the Yardbirds. That “new incarnation," of course, soon adopted the name Led Zeppelin and the rest is rock history. On Band Of Joy, Plant seems to look back a lot, but not necessarily to that band. He is looking back to Zeppelin, his prior solo records, and yes, most definitely just a couple of years back to Raising Sand, while moving forward with facets he's revealed over a period of four decades. This album is a modern roots record, one that covers country, blues, folk and vintage rock 'n' roll; areas traversed there and back by Plant over his career with Zeppelin, solo, and even the original Band of Joy.
The production for this affair is handled jointly by Plant and country andAmericana guitarist/composer/producer Buddy Miller, who toured with Plant and Krauss tour in support of their album. Miller brings not only his guitar and bass, but carries over some of T. Bone Burnett's analog sonorities and an aversion to treble. He also isn't ignoring the 21st century, either, but the modern and throwback touches co-exist comfortably beside each other. Plant, for his part, made brilliant selections for these twelve covers. They are all obscure, traversing an amazing cross -section of sources, from Los Lobos ("Angel Dance,") to Richard and Linda Thompson ("House of Cards") to a couple by slowcore masters Low. In Plant's hands, they become his songs. The biggest delightful surprise is “You Can't Buy My Love," a forgotten Barbara Lynn hit in the UK from the 60's, a rewrite of the Beatles' “Can't Buy Me Love" and played with a snappy, innocent enthusiasm that features a muscular Chris Squire styled bass. An odd combination, but it works.
Plant also brought in folk singer Patty Griffin to harmonize with him, and while Griffin takes no lead vocals on her own, her voice actually blends in better with Plant than Krauss did; she is simply sublime on “Monkey."
Band Of Joy picks up a couple of tricks learned from Raising Sand, but skillfully avoids making Band Of Joy a Raising Sand, Part 2. The ultimate triumph of this record, however, is the blurring of electric with acoustic; the reconciling of the sounds of the present with the sounds of the past; and the conversion of the obscure to the familiar.
Phil Collins Going Back
I had thought Phil Collins had stopped making regular studio records altogether, and I'll bet many of you did, too. After all, it's been eight years since Testify and he seemed to have settled into a successful little niche of making soundtrack music. However, this week there is new studio Phil Collins album out, Going Back. But if you're looking for new P.C. material, you're going to be disappointed because this album fetes the Motown music he admired growing up and as a young man drumming in a little-known band called Genesis.
Looking back at Collins' solo career through the 80s and 90s, it's clear he was trying to incorporate those influences into his own music (beyond the obvious 1983 hit, his remake of The Supremes' “You Can't Hurry Love"), so his attachment to Motown is sincere, strong and long-running.
Recording a set of Motown covers was a sensible move for Collins, but the timing of it seems a bit curious; the interest in this kind of music as nostalgia was kicked off by The Big Chill soundtrack (1983) and continued on through a parade of tributes in the 80's and 90's. Michael McDonald's own tribute already appeared after the trend had run its course, but at least McDonald injected his own style into them. Collins, in contrast, strained to recreate the whole arrangements and sonic textures of the originals, even going as far as to bring in the Funk Brothers as session players for this project. Collins sings plenty competently for these songs and does succeed in bringing listeners “back," but in doing so makes one pine for the original versions because he makes no attempt to add anything to them (as McDonald had done). Collins' straight rendition of “Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me A Little While)" only serves to highlight what an imaginative remake can do for a song, as the Doobie Brothers did for this song and made it into an even bigger hit.
So, in the end, as well done as Going Back is, Phil Collins made it strictly for his own satisfaction, and for anyone who wants to hear the same familiar songs played in the same familiar way, but by someone else.
Bachman And Turner Bachman And Turner
Last week we made some hay over a new band who recalled hard rock's 70s glory days, but Black Country Communion is more of a British hard rock vibe. No one represented Canadian (or North American) meat and potatoes hard rock better than Bachman-Turner Overdrive. For fans of that kind of rock, there's some great news: Randy Bachman and Fred Turner reunited for the first time since the mid-70s and on September 7 issued a record of all new tunes that reside entirely in the spirit of the old BTO, called, simply, Bachman And Turner.
It was reunion that happened by accident. When Randy Bachman invited Fred Turner to make a vocal appearance on a track for Bachman's next solo project, the guest turn sparked a a full-fledged joining of forces, and Turner ended up contributing tracks as well as more vocals, while Bachman shelved tracks that didn't fit, including cuts that featured other Canadian icons like Jeff Healey and Neil Young. That's how good Bachman must have felt about this reunion. As it turns out, his vibe was right.
Turner's full throated voice is completely intact, as are Bachman's massive riffs and chops. For anyone else playing guitar like that, I'd be tempted to call it clichéd, but Bachman invented these much-imitated licks. Nearly every song is trying to be some rock and roll anthem and many of them succeed: listening to “Rollin' Along," “Moonlight Rider," “Slave To The Rhythm" and “Repo Man" is almost like tuning in to an AM rock radio station back in the day. “Can't Go Back To Memphis" is great blooz rock and “That's What It Is" is powered by Bachman's trademark shuffle. “Rock And Roll Is The Only Way Out" is a half-hearted attempt at rap, the only real misstep on the entire record.
So why not make it official and call it a BTO album? Blame it on some legal stuff. But it doesn't take a lawyer to figure out that this is a record by the same masterminds behind one of the most successful hard rockin' bands of the Watergate era. This is a welcome return for the two co-frontmen in a group that made some great feel-good rockers. Bachman And Turner brings back that same feeling.
