GUIDED BY VOICES - Mag Earwhig!

Guided By Voices
Mag Earwhig!
Matador, 1997

I remember Mag Earwhig! as a polarizing record upon release.  Robert Pollard sacked the "classic' GBV lineup and hired the hard rockin' Cobra Verde to become the new Guided By Voices.  (Several longtime GBV members, including Tobin Sprout, Mitch Mitchell, and Jim Pollard do still contribute.)  And it was recorded in a real studio.  It sounded so unnaturally professional.  I don't recall hating it, but I sure didn't listen to it much.

The years have been kind to Mag Earwhig!  After all, one of the Cobra Verde members that integrated into GBV was guitar god Doug Gillard, who has gone onto become one of the great figures in the Pollardverse.

Even when I was ambivalent around the original release, the biggest reason to keep dropping the needle was Gillard's coming out party -- the album's lead single "I Am a Tree."  The only Gillard-penned song on the album, it boasts one of the greatest riffs in all of indie rock.  The kind where as soon as I hear it, I have to get up and move... pump my fist, play some air guitar, bang my head... anything for my body to keep pace with the blood pumping in my rock 'n' roll soul!

Follow-up single "Bulldog Skin" was great, too, and featured one of my favorite '90s music videos.  Still, the album didn't hold up to the precedent and expectations set by Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes.  Maybe it was unfair to compare.  After all, this was truly a different band.

Now, however, Mag Earwhig! has become one of my go-to GBV records.  Especially when I feel like rockin'.  While lacking the earlier lo-fi aesthetic, it's one of the most consistent and focused set of songs in Pollard's career.  "Not Behind the Fighter Jet" and "Portable Men's Society" in particular are a couple of my favorite deep cuts.

Today is sunny and 70 degrees.  The windows are open and the volume is up.  This sounds great!

About my copy:
Matador OLE 241
Original US pressing with gatefold jacket.  Purchased new upon release in 1997.

KORT - Invariable Heartache

KORT
Invariable Heartache
Sebastian Speaks, 2010

It's not completely out of the ordinary for me to find still-sealed records filed in my collection.  Usually it's at least a record I have heard.  Sometimes, back in my record store days, I'd listen to the in-store play promo CD so much that I'd simply not get around to opening and playing the vinyl copy I bought.  Occasionally I might pick up a reissue of a loved record that I never owned on vinyl but forget to open it.  It happens.

This one is a strange discovery, though.  It has been in my collection for eight years.  It's still sealed.  And, until today, I had never heard it.

I'm a huge Lambchop fan, but have only seen them live once.  They don't tour much, and make it up this way even less.  The only time I've seen them to date was at the Dakota in Minneapolis in 2012.  (I had to look up the date.)  Grant Hart opened for them.  It was awesome.

On our way out of the show, I swung by the merch table.  I already had all the Lambchop albums that were for sale, but noticed this album that had completely flown under my radar.  I bought it, brought it home, and well... I continued to let it fly under my radar for the next eight years.

KORT is a country duets collaboration from Nashville singer-songwriter Cortney Tidwell and Lambchop leader Kurt Wagner.  The backing band and contributing musicians is an all-star crew that includes several members of Lambchop and ace guitarist William Tyler (formerly of Lambchop and now a celebrated solo musician).  Naturally, it often sounds like Lambchop's most traditional country record.  But the record, and wonderful story behind it, is driven by Tidwell.

Invariable Heartache is a covers album.  Nearly all of the songs were originally written for and recorded by artists on the Chart Records label in the 1960s and '70s.  Tidwell's grandfather Slim Williamson co-founded the label.  Her father Cliff Williamson eventually took it over.  And her mother Connie Eaton was one of the label's artists.  If I sound like an obscure '60s country know-it-all, don't worry.  I just learned all of this from reading the liner notes on the back cover.

The truth is, these songs are all new to me.  And they're wonderful.  Tidwell's soulful country vocals and Wagner's signature soft-phrasing are a delightful pairing.  Through one listen, highlights include the melancholy opener "Incredibly Lonely," the blazing "Pickin' Wild Mountain Berries," and the closing "Who's Gonna Love Me Now."  That song, Tidwell's finest performance on the LP, is the lone tune here that was not recorded for Chart.  Instead, it was originally sung by Eaton on her 1975 major label record.  It's achingly good.

It's a shame this album didn't generate more buzz (to the best of my recollection) upon its release.  Between the story and the performances, it seems like one that should have gone over big with the No Depression scene.  (Maybe it did?)

It's also a shame that I let it sit in my collection for so long.  But on the bright side, it's been an awesome, unexpected discovery.  Like finding a $20 bill in an old coat pocket.

About my copy:
Sebastian Speaks SSP 011
Purchased at a Lambchop show in 2012.  Finally opened and played in 2020.

MARK KNOPFLER - The Princess Bride

Mark Knopfler
The Princess Bride
Warner Bros., 1987

I'm not a big soundtrack guy.  I love a great score, but typically prefer to appreciate it within its film.  Not much listening to soundtrack LPs for pleasure around here, and therefore the soundtrack section at the end of my record collection is pretty thin.

I'm also not a big Mark Knopfler/Dire Straits guy.  I respect him as a revered guitarist and bandleader.  And there are certainly worse rock bands to hear.  Just not really my thing.

The Princess Bride is beloved in our family.  I always enjoyed it whenever I ran across it on TV.  Then I married into a family who universally adores it, and I fully accepted its greatness.  It is a perfect movie.

My wife and I have introduced our daughter to it a couple times over the years.  She seemed to enjoy it well enough, but it didn't really take the way we had probably hoped.  In hindsight, we rushed it a bit.

Last week, after a good year or two since our last attempt, I convinced my daughter (now 9 1/2) to watch it with me again.  Three more viewings since, and it's now officially her favorite movie.  As I wished.

As for the soundtrack LP, I've rarely listened to it.  I picked it up because it was cheap and it's cool to own.  After today's viewing of the film, I pulled this off the LP shelves and waved it at my daughter.  She gasped.  We put it on.

It's a very pleasant, tasteful listen.  It's working well tonight for winding down after dinner, with everyone off doing their own thing.  (I could do without the Willy DeVille vocals added to the main theme at the end of the LP.)

About my copy:
Warner Bros. 26510
Gold promo stamp on lower-left corner of jacket.  I think this was part of a batch of minty '80s promo LPs that I purchased at a garage sale about five years ago.

BOBBY BARE - Talk Me Some Sense

Bobby Bare
Talk Me Some Sense
RCA Victor, 1966

Talk Me Some Sense is my favorite Bobby Bare album.  It may not be his best (though it may be), but it was the first one that I really sunk my teeth into.

When I found this record at an antique store in Dixon, Illinois while visiting my future in-laws, it had a slight warp, multiple deep scratches, and the jacket was split so badly on the spine I could barely read the title.  All those attributes are still intact.  But it has always played beautifully.  Seems like these '60s RCA pressings can really take a lickin'.

The record opens with a train whistle leading into the opening notes of "Passin' Through" (the only Bare-penned song on the record).  Right away, the Chet Atkins-Felton Jarvis production beams me to 1966 Nashville and country music's take on a wall of sound.  There really is something about that big production meeting head-on with Bare's booming voice and serving as a backdrop to his repertoire of ballads and folk songs.

Bare was big on recording social commentary songs around this era.  Some sound unexpectedly progressive for old-guard Nashville ("What Color (Is a Man)"), while others sound naive at best -- the title track gripes about angry youth, essentially telling them to shut up and be happy.  Even still, Bare's rich, smooth delivery make it a memorable performance.

Over the rest of Talk Me Some Sense, Bare sings solid interpretations of "The Long Black Veil" and Dylan's "It Ain't Me Babe."  But my personal favorites might be a trio of deep cut love-lost songs -- Cowboy Jack Clement's "Got Leavin' On Her Mind," album closer "(For a While) We Helped Each Other Out," and the fantastic "Heaven Help My Soul."

Based on my experience working in record stores over the last twenty years, it seems Bobby Bare has been ignored by the rock record buyers of today who scour the country sections of record stores for Johnny, Waylon, Willie, and Merle.  That's insane to me.  It seems especially odd considering his son Bobby Bare, Jr. has a deep catalog on famed Chicago insolent alt-country label Bloodshot Records and has done time as a guitar player in Guided By Voices.  It just feels like more people my age and younger would be interested in checking out the elder Bare.

One of the great things about music, though, is that it's never too late to discover something you love.

About my copy:
RCA Victor LPM-3515
Original mono pressing purchased for $1 from an antique store in Dixon, Illinois (childhood home of Ronald Reagan).

MINUTEMEN - Buzz or Howl Under the Influence of Heat

Minutemen
Buzz or Howl Under the Influence of Heat
SST, 1983

I've been thinking a lot about D. Boon lately.  And not because the Minutemen song "Corona" kept getting stuck in my head when we first started hearing about the virus.  Nope, I just love D. Boon.  I'm not sure if anyone I actually listen to less means as much to me.  If that makes sense?

I love the Minutemen.  I love the idea of the Minutemen.  I love their impact.  I love their records.  I

love the spiels.  I love it all.  And I've certainly gone through phases of heavy listening.  Yet, for as much as I love them, I really haven't listened to them much over the last ten years outside of a couple spins of Double Nickels on the Dime.  I've probably even listened to fIREHOSE more frequently.

But I'll tell you, the older I get, the more D. Boon's "punk rock is whatever you make it to be" philosophy.  So while the frequency of hearing his music has slipped, it still feels important to me whenever I do check in.

As for Buzz of Howl Under the Influence of Heat, it's a brief listen, but a challenging one.  When I bought the record, I remember being very excited to hear a song called "Dreams Are Free, Motherfucker!" -- as great of a song title as there has ever been -- and kinda disappointed to find out it was an instrumental improv.

My favorite on this one has always been the closing "Little Man With a Gun in His Hand."  It's the record's most conventional rock song, but also one of the Minutemen's best.

About my copy:
SST 016
Original press, but really beat up.  Mildew stained cover, scratchy record.  Punk rock like it should be.  Pretty sure I picked this one up used at Garage D'or in the '90s.  (I miss you, TK!)

JOLIE HOLLAND - Escondida

Jolie Holland
Escondida
Cinquefoil, 2020
Originally released by Anti-, 2004

Changing things up here by not randomly picking out a record from the shelves, but by writing about the newest addition to my collection.  The music, however, is not new to me.

I fell in love with Jolie Holland's music when my old store received a promo copy of her debut solo CD Catalpa in 2003.  Its lo-fi folk-blues-jazz seemed from another era and sounded like it was from another planet.  That made the follow-up one of my most anticipated records of the following year.  Enter Escondida.

Holland's first studio album after signing to Anti- (which, with a roster consisting of Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Neko Case, Merle Haggard, and Solomon Burke, among others, was my favorite record label around that time) was a pretty big deal.  She got press in mainstream magazines and I want to say she performed on the late-night talk shows (though I can't find any evidence of the latter on Youtube).

When I saw her live at the 400 Bar on this tour, there was a very loud gentleman in the crowd who yelled "Wooo! It's good enough for grandpa, it's good enough for me!" (a line from her song "Old Fashioned Morphine") in between every song.  Jolie admirably ignored him for most of the set, only once acknowledging him by saying (to paraphrase), "I thought it was odd that Maxim gave my record a good review.  I was wondering where my Maxim crowd was..."

I loved this album so much when it was released.  Looking back, I think it was a landmark of modern Americana music.  It was for sure at the forefront of the younger Gen-X and older millennial punks embracing folk music.  At least I remember turning a lot of people onto it through good old in-store play when the CD came out.  It was one of those discs that I could put on during a busy Saturday afternoon and have a real life High Fidelity/Beta Band moment.  The most frequently asked question was an enthusiastic "What IS this?"

Wait, why do I keep referring to the Escondida CD?

Oh, right.  It never had a proper domestic vinyl release.  Until now.

Jolie Holland took it upon herself to reissue Escondida this past winter on her own label Cinquefoil.  It seems I was living under a rock, as I had no idea that a crowd-funding campaign had come and gone to finance the release.  As soon as I found out, I went to her website to order, but couldn't find a proper order link.  Fearing I missed out, I sent her a message on Facebook.

That turned out pretty awesome, as I was not only to able to order a copy (autographed, no less!), but was able to exchange a few messages with one of the great and, dare I say, underappreciated artists of our time.

About a week after ordering, the album arrived to flatten me all over again.  Jolie really did the reissue right.  It's spread out at 45 RPM over two records for maximum fidelity, and it sounds incredible.  This album was meant to be heard on vinyl.  The songs are just as beautiful now as they were a decade and a half ago.  I feel like a giant hole in my record collection has been filled.

If you're interested in this kind of music at all, I implore you to head over to Jolie Holland's website to order your own copy.  Obviously our musicians and artists need all the support they can get in the time of Corona.  This is a really cool opportunity to get an incredible album straight from the source.

About my copy:
Cinquefoil 45 RPM double LP reissue, purchased directly from Jolie Holland.

WILLIE HIGHTOWER - Walk a Mile In My Shoes

Willie Hightower
Walk a Mile In My Shoes 12" EP 
Honest Jon's, 2004

I don't think I've brought this out since some of my soul-heavy DJ nights at The King and I Thai in the mid-'00s!

This wonderful sounding 45 RPM six-song EP, reissued fifteen years ago already (pause to reflect how impossible that feels...) by Damon Albarn's Honest Jon's label, compiles the three singles that obscure soul singer Willie Hightower released on the Fame label in 1970-1971.  The defacto title track (the physical release appears to be self-titled, but all online resources list the first song as the release title) is a cool version of Joe South's hit "Walk a Mile In My Shoes."

The remainder of the songs include a couple by the great George Jackson and a couple of Hightower originals.  Hightower is a perfectly capable soul singer, and you can never go wrong with the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section.  This was a quick, enjoyable listen.  I'm happy my three-year old randomly pulled it from the shelf this afternoon.

About my copy:
Honest Jon's HJP22
Purchased new upon release in 2004, when it seemed like there was an endless supply of great soul reissues going to press.

JOHN COLTRANE - Both Directions at Once

John Coltrane
Both Directions at Once: The Lost Album
Impulse!/Verve, 2018

I tried to squeeze in another record before dinner last night.  The kids were watching TV in the basement, and I thought that was a good opportunity to put on a record.  I dropped the needle on some Coltrane and turned around to catch my wife glancing at me.

She had a look in her eye that said, "Really?  We finally have a few minutes of silence on the main level of the house and you're going to interrupt it with some skronky jazz?" 

What she actually said was more diplomatic, and I offered to turn off the stereo.  She relented, "No, it's fine," and my selfish ass left it on.

Halfway through side two, it was time for dinner.  I lifted the needle prematurely to a wave of relief and thanks from my family.

As for the album, it was a much-celebrated release two years ago.  It's an entire unreleased album recorded in 1963, featuring Coltrane's classic quartet with Jimmy Garrison, Elvin Jones, and the recently departed McCoy Tyner.  I love this era of Coltrane stuff, with things starting to get weird while still holding onto a strong sense of melody.

Trying to listen in this scenario, however, was not the best idea.  I look forward to spinning it again when I can do so without irritating my quarantine crew.


About my copy:
Impulse!/Verve 28316
US single LP version on black vinyl with die-cut sleeve.  Purchased new at Hymie's in summer 2018.

THE GO-BETWEENS - Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express

The Go-Betweens
Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express
Big Time/Beggars Banquet, 1986

With today's randomized selection, I feel like I'm getting closer the what I'll really enjoy doing with this project.  The first two blog entries were albums that I know like the back of my hand.  They served well to get the ball rolling, but were records that I honestly didn't need to play in order to know that I love them.  Or to know why I love them.

Now, I love the Go-Betweens very much.  But Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express, for whatever reason, has rarely found its way to my turntable.  I think I must unfairly lump it in with its follow-up Tallulah, which is far and away my least favorite Go-Betweens record.  If I'm in a Go-Betweens kind of mood, I'll either go straight to their masterpiece 16 Lovers Lane or maybe one of their earlier, slightly more primitive records.  Liberty Belle is absolutely stuck in the middle.

I pulled it out today and scrolled the titles and lyrics on the back of the jacket.  I knew the two excellent singles ("Spring Rain" and "Head Full of Steam") very well, but couldn't recall much of anything about the rest of the LP.  It had been that long since I listened.

So what a treat, to be able to rediscover a set of Robert Forster-Grant McLennan songs with fresh ears.  I don't know if I had previously ignored or simply forgotten about the side two opener "In the Core of a Flame" prior to today's listen.  Whoa.  McLennan sings lead on one of the most rockin' Go-Betweens songs I can recall.  And it's a mix-tape quality masterpiece.  It opens with "If the Devil had seen your dress / He would've changed his name / Put down his fork and moved above / Why burn in hell when you burn for love?"

How does that not hook you?

I'm happy.  I don't expect all of the records I dig out to reward me this way.  Hell, a side-bonus I had considered is that I could sell some of the albums I decide are non-essential.  But this one is a definite keeper.  (Not that I'd sell any Go-Betweens albums anyway.  Not even Tallulah.)

Bonus nugget: I had no idea that Everything From the Girl vocalist Tracey Thorn sang backup vocals on "Head Full of Steam."

About my copy:
Big Time Records 10030
Rare original US pressing!  The band never really broke over here.  Pretty crazy to see the prices some of the originals are now fetching.

ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN - Porcupine

Echo & The Bunnymen
Porcupine
Sire/Korova, 1983

God damn, the way this record opens.

The one-two punch of "The Cutter" and "Back of Love" ranks among my favorite pair of songs to begin any album.  The entire album is excellent.  I don't know that I'd go so far as to declare it the best Echo and the Bunnymen album -- I love each of the first four -- but it has definitely become my go-to Echo record over the years.  I'm sure that's entirely because I can't resist the two jams at the beginning.

About my copy:
Sire 23770
US pressing in pretty good shape.  No inner sleeve.  I can't remember when or where I picked it up.  Probably a used buy from 26th & Lyndale.

JOHN PRINE - Sweet Revenge

John Prine
Sweet Revenge
Atlantic, 1973

When the idea for this blog came to me, I didn't envision the first post would be devoted to a victim of the pandemic.  I wanted the first selection to be completely random.

The Discogs app has a feature that will display a random title from your collection when you give your phone a good shake.  I guess it's meant to give you a hand when you can't decide what to put on the stereo.  I thought utilizing that would be a fun way to start.  As fate would have it, we begin with the late John Prine.

I first became aware of Prine through my good friend and former bandmate Sean.  As a teenage punk, Sean was (and still is) the most naturally gifted songwriter I knew.  He introduced me to the wonderful world of Tom Waits and convinced me that Dylan was awesome.  And eventually he spoke enough about the brilliance of John Prine that I decided to drop $3.60 at Cheapo in Saint Paul when I found Sweet Revenge in the used new arrivals.

This, Prine's third album, wasn't an immediate life-changer for me, but over time it got the job done.  A short while later, Prine's eponymous debut record fully converted me, and shortly after that I developed a strong attachment to Sweet Revenge as well.  In hindsight, this was a damn well-spent four bucks.

No, Sweet Revenge is not as great as John Prine.  To me, there are probably less than a couple dozen albums in the history of music that are at that level of perfection.  But I will say that the first side of Sweet Revenge stacks up with anything in Prine's catalog.  "Sweet Revenge," "Please Don't Bury Me," "Christmas In Prison," "Dear Abby," and "Often is a Word I Seldom Use," all belong on any essential-Prine mix.  (Side two, honestly, is nothing special to me.)

"Please Don't Bury Me" is especially comforting today, in light of Mr. Prine's heartbreaking passing.   Thanks, John Prine.  Your music has made me laugh and cry, often* at the same time.  Thanks, Sean, for making me listen to John Prine.  While I'm sure I would have found him eventually, I appreciate the jumpstart.

* a word I seldom use

About my copy:
Atlantic SD 7274
Original (or early, at least) US Monarch pressing with lyric sheet.  Near mint record in a jacket with the perfect amount of ring-wear.  Purchased at Cheapo in St. Paul, Minnesota late-nineties-ish.