Thursday, 23 June 2011

RICHARD THOMPSON - Live At The BBC (2011 Box Set)



Covering nearly 40 years of radio sessions and live broadcasts for the BBC, it’s clear that Richard Thompson has never been short of a champion or two in Broadcasting House. Add the sizeable Fairport Convention sessions Thompson took part in before the boundaries of this set commence and that’s a significant avenue of an artists’ career covered by the BBC. This is entirely correct, he is after all the UKs most credible answer to Bob Dylan or Neil Young and yet notoriously undervalued by a wider audience on native soil. Fortunately, amongst the hardcore clued up, an enviable spread of top name DJs have maintained their faith. Wisely so for Thompsons’ solo interpreting of any work, whether his own or otherwise, is always so much more than a lack-lustre strum-a-long masquerading as rootsy. His guitar work is so far ahead of the acoustic pack that only the long time initiated would believe it to be the playing of no more than one pair of hands. Richard Thompsons’ one-man sessions are master classes of song craft, guitar playing, feel, soul, restraint and ability. When captured live in concert with a band he’ll regularly ignite that elusive nirvana rock flame sought nightly by every master of the arena; Costello, Morrison, Wilco...you name them, Thompson can source that moment they strive for at will, simply by excelling at what he does.


Playing live on air, in recent years it’s been Radio 2 and 6Music mostly inviting Richard in and there’s some essential 2008 Bob Harris session tracks included here promoting the ‘1000 Years Of Popular Music’ project. Tom Robinson continued to spread the word when long time fan Andy Kershaw was forced off the airwaves a few years back. Kershaw had treated these sessions as an annual cornerstone from his shows’ Radio 1 days but nothing changed when Radio 3 picked up on the specialist World Music potpourri, the Thompson live work kept returning. Clearly there’s more Kershaw stuff in the archives than could fit this set but the mid-eighties period focused on here is illuminating, breathing fresh life into material not always best captured on the studio albums. How many national DJs would give an artist a nine-song solo platform as Kershaw did in 1985? Naturally Thompson repays in full, not just airing new LP tracks but also trying out a then-unreleased ‘Turning Of The Tide’ before dipping into the Richard & Linda back catalogue three times. Then right back at the start of the Richard & Linda duo years there’s John Peel, maintaining a loyalty long since established with Fairport Convention. It might appear from this release that Peels’ love of Thompson waned later on but that’s simply not the case. There were further Peel Sessions not on this set and even in 2004 he played the re-issue of ‘I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight’ on Radio 1 and urged “anyone with an interest in music” to buy it. Some of those 1973 tracks sound like they’re sourced direct from a cassette recording of the actual radio broadcast. That’s not such a bad thing, Peel always liked a bit of distortion or surface noise and besides it gives the tracks an authentic ‘on air’ sort of vibe.


Richard Thompsons’ work has already been heavily anthologised and the archive actively plundered. Career retrospectives were generously doused with live tracks and rarities while the 5 disc box set ‘Life & Music Of Richard Thompson’ consisted entirely of previously unavailable recordings. Despite this, ‘Live At The BBC’ is a welcome addition to the catalogue, uncovering a multitude of lost gems from his post-Fairport years. Amongst these, ‘A Heart Needs A Home’ shines anew; punctuated with some warm-soul piano chords that wrap themselves exquisitely around Linda Thompson’s aching vocal. Richard Thompson writing about love as Linda sang it was as fine a musical marriage as Simon & Garfunkel. Captured in concert at The Paris Theatre on the wireless in 1982, the time of their actual separation, it’s not so much the tension between the couple that you feel (although Linda does seem to enunciate “my dreams have withered and died” with a touch more force) but the push and pull of Richards’ rock and folk sensibilities. He’s clearly scratching some burning desire to crank it up and slam his foot on the odd gizmo during obscure instrumental ‘New Fangled Flogging Reel / Kerry Reel’ and, from the same gig, ‘A Man In Need’ is loose as a goose! You may miss the electric rumble on ‘Shoot Out The Lights’ in session for Kershaw in 1985, but Richard was surely having fun picking and bending those solo acoustic notes in the lingering instrumental section. Any gripes are minor and the domain of the Thompson aficionado; perhaps some may have hoped that the wealth of eighties sessions could turn up a solo take on ‘Al Bowly’s In Heaven’ and there’s the odd debatable omission; for instance a Peel set around 1988 that included ‘The Killerman Gold Posse’ from the French, Frith, Kaiser, Thompson album. There’s little sense in nit-picking a collection like this though, it’s compiled with care and sequenced to great effect. ‘Dimming Of The Day’ as the penultimate disc one track suitably announces the closing of the Richard & Linda years and the final track of all, a 2009 version of Richard’s first Fairport classic ‘Meet On The Ledge’, neatly completes the circle on a remarkable alternative career overview. Please use the link below to listen to the whole 3-disc set.


Essex Boy Rating: 9/10


Tuesday, 31 May 2011

30 Days of Dylan #30: Tangled Up In Blue

May 2011 sees the 70th birthday of Bob Dylan. To celebrate, we're taking you on a journey through the lesser celebrated avenues of his back catalogue. A journey down Highway 61 that won't stop off at 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'All Along The Watchtower' or 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' but will call by...

Tangled Up In Blue (1974)


And in the end we’ll enjoy an out-and-out Bob Dylan classic, complete with record company approved video footage. It has been a bit galling, I must say, the heavy handed restrictions that Bob’s people seem to have imposed on his music across internet streaming services. I know Bob can pretty much do as he wishes but I personally feel it’s a shame that this is one way in which he hasn’t moved with the times. I mean, I’m someone who ten years ago was a committed record & CD collector looking towards a future where I’d probably need to build seventeen sheds just to house my music collection but nowadays I don’t know if I’ll ever buy music in a physical format ever again. For music fans this new model is simply the best thing ever, the sheer accessibility of everything is mouth watering and it’s just a shame that Bob Dylan and The Beatles have so far resisted full immersion into the new environment; it would be a better place for having them around and in time, they definitely will be. I’ll also hold my hands up and admit there were songs that I’d intended for the 30 day rundown that couldn’t be included because of the lack of availability; 1971’s ‘George Jackson’ and the ‘Infidels’ outtake ‘Tell Me’ spring instantly to mind but there were others. Still, I’m not unhappy with the way these 30 days/30 songs have turned out and in many ways it’s been more fun hunting around for a decent cover version when the original Dylan recording I’d set out for wasn’t available. With ‘Tangled Up In Blue’ itself I’d love to offer up the ‘Bootleg Series Vol. 1-3’ version for your enjoyment, which I genuinely believe to be the better take, but it doesn’t really matter, you can’t go far wrong whichever take you prefer. This is a song head and shoulders above normal standards. For me this is Bob Dylan’s masterpiece, I’ve had a twenty year relationship with the song and it still endures, which for a piece of music in essence so basic is incredible. But every time you go back to this song there’s a chance some new nuance could reveal itself. It works like a great abstract work of art, shifting perspectives that mask heart wrenching revelations about the mess of blues Dylan was attempting to illustrate. But then if the details always slightly escape you, maintaining that elusiveness in the dialogue that’s impossible to nail down with the narrator shifting from first to third person, the feel of the piece reveals all.


Monday, 30 May 2011

30 Days of Dylan #29: Sign On The Window

May 2011 sees the 70th birthday of Bob Dylan. To celebrate, we're taking you on a journey through the lesser celebrated avenues of his back catalogue. A journey down Highway 61 that won't stop off at 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'All Along The Watchtower' or 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' but will call by...

Sign On The Window (1970)


The whole motivation behind this 30 day trip has been to shed a little light on the less celebrated but no less deserving corners of the Dylan back catalogue. To that end our penultimate offering is a real giant amongst buried treasures. It seems perverse now that there is a hidden masterwork in the man’s back pages but there is and that album is ‘New Morning’. Along with ‘The Times They Are A-Changin’ and ‘Time Out Of Mind’, this was one of the albums deemed unworthy of inclusion on the remastering project imposed on the Dylan catalogue a few years ago, but fewer people questioned the exclusion of ‘New Morning’. Why so is unclear but you can piece together an idea. It followed a matter of months after the legend airbrushing mystery that was ‘Self Portrait’, so expectations on Bob had been significantly lowered by his own hand at this point. Also, the album lacks a defining signature moment, a landmark statement piece or anything that screams ‘major new Bob Dylan work’ from its’ pages. There are great songs here but their charms are subtle, modestly dressed in a coat of laid back production and musical understatement. And let’s not forget, Bob stayed underground almost totally until 1974 without tours or new albums (other than the ‘Pat Garrett’ soundtrack) so the ‘New Morning’ record just kind of got lost amidst the wilderness years that were Bob’s early 70s. It was as if both he and his audience needed a few years grace to properly digest everything that had gone down in the 60s. But important work it is. There are great songs such as ‘If Not For You’ and ‘Time Passes Slowly’ and the rocking ‘Man In Me’; only really appreciated by more than a handful of Bobcats after it featured heavily at the start of the film ‘The Big Lebowski’. And there’s the sound of the album too; all muddy analogue soul, eloquently picked George Harrison guitar parts and pounding Bob piano chords that sound like they’re being bashed on a slightly out-of-tune village hall upright. That’s the 1970-71 sound in essence actually, you hear it on everything from Paul McCartney’s solo debut to Neil Young’s ‘After The Gold Rush’ and this is a period piece to match any of those great records. Then there’s Bob’s voice, huskier again apparently thanks to a heavy cold he was suffering during sessions, but a welcome return after the unsettling country-croon adopted in 1968. And of course the albums centre piece (although you need to live with the record a while before it shows itself to be the centrepiece) is ‘Sign On The Window’, where you can hear the extent of his throat strain on a line like “Brighton girls are like the moon”. Again we’re talking about a restrained little number, one of the few instances on record where Bob’s piano playing takes the lead. Initially we’re dealing with alienation, then an arrival and awakening in the big city. But the songs curveball is in where it ends up, with Dylan concluding that living the rural and domestic idyll with a wife and bunch of kids is really what life is all about. Crucially, at the time it would appear, that’s exactly what it was all about for Bob and in typical fashion he manages to capture that fleeting state of mind magnificently in song.


Sunday, 29 May 2011

30 Days of Dylan #28: The Groom's Still Waiting At The Altar


May 2011 sees the 70th birthday of Bob Dylan. To celebrate, we're taking you on a journey through the lesser celebrated avenues of his back catalogue. A journey down Highway 61 that won't stop off at 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'All Along The Watchtower' or 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' but will call by...


The Groom’s Still Waiting At The Altar (1981)


Notable for two things; firstly that even on one of Bob’s most under-praised records (‘Shot Of Love’) there can be hiding something truly great and secondly, this song was probably the full stop on the Christianity phase. Not just because here was Bob rocking with an abandon and slight aggression that general assumption dictated the religious concerns had erased. Also there’s the apocalyptic imagery of the lyrics, the groom waiting in church for the rising of a new religious age; he’s stated his case but nothing’s happening so he’s about to turn a new page on life rather than stand forever waiting. Don’t forget though, even in 2000 he observed that “if the Bible is right the world will explode” so clearly the biblical concerns still played on his mind years later. Of course you could also take this song literally and conclude that underneath it all Bob just wanted to find another wife.


Saturday, 28 May 2011

30 Days of Dylan #27: High Water (For Charley Patton)

May 2011 sees the 70th birthday of Bob Dylan. To celebrate, we're taking you on a journey through the lesser celebrated avenues of his back catalogue. A journey down Highway 61 that won't stop off at 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'All Along The Watchtower' or 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' but will call by...

High Water (For Charley Patton) (2001)

Because ‘Love And Theft’ might just be Bob Dylan’s best album. If not, it certainly is the one Dylan album you can play to people who haven’t liked him before, but are open to giving him a chance. This album is clinically tried and tested on these types, but remains far from watered down Dylan, if anything it’s his most fully realised LP long statement ever. ‘Love And Theft’.


Friday, 27 May 2011

30 Days of Dylan #26: Tweeter And The Monkey Man

May 2011 sees the 70th birthday of Bob Dylan. To celebrate, we're taking you on a journey through the lesser celebrated avenues of his back catalogue. A journey down Highway 61 that won't stop off at 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'All Along The Watchtower' or 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' but will call by...


Tweeter And The Monkey Man (1988)


With the best will in the world, it’s hard to convince anyone that Bob didn’t go off the boil a bit in the middle of the 80s. I think the problem was partly that he thought he could still compete in the pop market and have another hit. You could look at the songs he inexplicably left off ‘Infidels’, pondered in the last post here, and conclude that at least two may have echoed the Blues too much to be compatible with these speculated mainstream ambitions. But then two other tracks were pretty radio friendly in sound and style so that theory isn’t exactly watertight. Still, the excursions into some of the eras electro production techniques clearly wasn’t a comfortable match and you’d be hard pushed to compile a single great Dylan album from the material offered up between 1984 and 1988. As Bobs autobiography ‘Chronicles’ recounts, it took Daniel Lanois and the vague concept for how the ‘Never Ending Tour’ could pan out to help him relocate a direct route towards the more consistent unlocking of that genius muse; and it also took the Traveling Wilburys. If nothing more than providing a forum for scratching that mainstream itch he’d been irritated by for the past few years, the Wilburys brought Bob some fresh impetus. The other positive knock on effect being that standing shoulder to shoulder with two legends (George Harrison and Roy Orbison in case you weren’t sure) ensured that any new material Bob threw into the mix was anything but sub standard. And so ‘Tweeter And The Monkey Man’ stood out as a highlight of that first Wilburys record, and quietly became one of the often over-looked gems in Bob’s expansive back catalogue.



Thursday, 26 May 2011

30 Days of Dylan #25: Lord Protect My Child

May 2011 sees the 70th birthday of Bob Dylan. To celebrate, we're taking you on a journey through the lesser celebrated avenues of his back catalogue. A journey down Highway 61 that won't stop off at 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'All Along The Watchtower' or 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' but will call by...


Lord Protect My Child (1983)


In 1983 Bob Dylan released the ‘Infidels’ album, the pre-release anticipation positively heightened by news that he’d moved away from Christian based material and sessions went down with, the then still on the rise, Mark Knopfler. Then on arrival reaction was underwhelming. The album had a handful of decent songs; ‘I And I’ was a clear stand-out and ‘Jokerman’ a decent stab at a commercial sounding opener. But weaker material appeared too and it became instantly clear that this would not be a record to re-establish Dylan as a creative force in his third recording decade. It lead to a pattern of anticipation and increasingly pronounced frustration on deliverance of each new album in the 80s; a mould only broken in 1989 when ‘Oh Mercy’, with Daniel Lanois’ fairy dust, brought something to legitimately get excited about. Then in 1991 the first of the ‘Bootleg Series’ hit the shops and with it came perhaps the most unfathomable revelation of Bob Dylan’s entire recording career. Four songs had been left off of ‘Infidels’ that, at a stroke, would have made it one of the albums of his career. Better than ‘Oh Mercy’, better than ‘Desire’, better than ‘Nashville Skyline’, it genuinely would have been acclaimed, over time, as one of the top five. The songs were ‘Foot Of Pride’, already heard in our ’30 Days’ journey covered by Lou Reed; ‘Tell Me’, one of Dylan’s lushest moments melodically and a track that just rains down like sweet honey; ‘Blind Willie McTell’, head-and-shoulders above any other Dylan Blues track with a spot-on vocal; and finally ‘Lord Protect My Child’ which, as songs on the subject of parenthood go, is even better than the celebrated ‘Forever Young. It’s in the ache of Bob’s singing, the anguish and anxiety knotted up in a beautiful, soulful song that captures the essence that those with children often struggle to explain. Here is an incredible accapella version by Maria Muldaur, filmed during the making of ‘No Direction Home’.