Music – Page 54 – Rock Salted

Johnny Cash – John R. Cash

Johnny Cash – John R. Cash Columbia KC-33370 (1975)

When Johnny Cash’s popularity sagged in the mid-1970s, his label Columbia stepped in to guide the recording process. Someone from the label picked out some popular songs, ran them by Cash to see which ones he would record, then went out and recorded all the instrumentals and simply had Cash sing over the top of the finished package. It was a very conscious effort to make Cash seem “relevant”, from the picture on the album cover of Cash with longer hair and a denim jacket to a warm, muted sound that fairly drips with the ambiance of huge American-made cars, faux-leather chairs, shag carpeting, dim yellow lighting, and other accoutrements of a time when the glory days of the American working man were starting to crumble. Cash practically disowned this album as a sell-out on his part. Yet, dated or not, this is a fair and listenable effort. It helps that there are lots of good songs, and the mellowness makes it a decent period piece. This may not be representative of anything else in Cash’s large catalog, but it isn’t nearly as bad as some would have it.

Johnny Cash – Look at Them Beans

Johnny Cash – Look at Them Beans Columbia KC 33814 (1975)

A ho-hum affair. There aren’t any real duds, but nothing to particularly impress either. The best is probably the rollicking “I Hardly Ever Sing Beer Drinking Songs,” which comes across something like a warm-up for his minor comeback novelty hit “One Piece at a Time” of the following year. By 1975, Cash was fairly consistently recording in a more contemporary style rather than the folky and frequently acoustic style established with Hello, I’m Johnny Cash. This new sound often had a kind of Texas barrelhouse or Bakersfield Sound flavor that seemed like a reaction to the Outlaw Country movement and the likes of Jerry Reed. Elsewhere string arrangements are common. A few tracks have a horn section, which seems to neither add a lot nor take anything away, it just sort of changes things up in a Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass sort of way. This is not the Cash album anyone is likely to reach for first, though fans will probably enjoy it well enough once its playing. He would go on to make quite a few more albums similar to this in varying degrees.

Johnny Cash – One Piece at a Time

Johnny Cash and The Tennessee Three – One Piece at a Time Columbia KC 34193 (1976)

After a few years without any significant chart success, Cash had a mild comeback with One Piece at a Time and its title track single. The album features a mixture of ballads and bouncy, novelty-inflected, up-tempo numbers. Easily the best thing here is the title track, a rollicking tale of an auto worker pilfering parts to assemble his dream automobile, only to have things go comically awry. It’s the best known Cash single of the 1970s, and for good reason. The piano riff was lifted from somewhere else, though the source eludes me at the moment. Overall, this one is decent if a little bland. Sort of a top of the third tier Cash album.

Johnny Cash – A Believer Sings the Truth

Johnny Cash – A Believer Sings the Truth Cachet Records CL 3-9001 (1979)

A relatively unknown album in some ways. It is perhaps the most eclectic one Johnny Cash ever recorded. Stylistically it’s all over the place. Jo-El Sonnier is on the sessions and his vaguely New Orleans second-line/Dixieland styled “I’ve Got Jesus in My Soul,” complete with a clarinet solo and brass band chorus, is something unusual for Cash. There is a version of Sister Rosetta Tharpe‘s “There Are Strange Things Happening Everyday” that’s decent too. In his first autobiography, Man in Black, Cash told about going to a Tharpe concert in the early Sixties, as his amphetamine addiction grew. “Oh Come, Angel Band” is the song most frequently included on compilations. The horns, boogie-woogie piano, and contemporary backing vocals make this album unlike most others from Cash. In a way, it seems a little like he was taking cues from what Elvis had been up to earlier in the decade (Aloha From Hawaii Via Satellite, etc.), or maybe even what Bob Dylan was trying to do around this same time (Street-Legal, At Budokan). Anyway, A Believer Sings the Truth isn’t gonna convince anyone of Cash’s talents if you haven’t heard him in better form elsewhere. But this one finds him stretching and finding some success with many different approaches. It holds up fairly well. It’s too bad he didn’t record any secular albums the same way around this time, because it does seem like producers killed a lot of his albums back then. Oh, and here’s a spoiler. “The Greatest Cowboy of Them All” is god. God is the greatest cowboy of them all.

Public Enemy – Most of My Heroes Still Don’t Appear on No Stamp

Public Enemy – Most of My Heroes Still Don’t Appear on No Stamp Enemy Records ERSD002LC (2012)

It would be easy to write off Public Enemy as a hip-hop group long past its time of relevance, but that would be a mistake. Most of My Heroes Still Don’t Appear on No Stamp, released in the group’s third decade (and 25 years after their debut album), is about as relevant as anything in hip hop. There is only one dud (“Rltk”). The rest might not feature anything as powerfully catchy as their biggest hits of their early days. Still, the simple, utilitarian beats get the job done. The group isn’t innovating when it comes to beats — if anything, they are looking backwards somewhat, more so than on The Evil Empire of Everything released the same summer. Yet these are the sorts of beats that made hip-hop what it is, providing a hardness that provides momentum, and most importantly are ones that fit the talents of the MCs and the message they have to offer. Chuck D is still one of the smartest and most compelling lyricists in the genre. On “Truth Decay” he raps, “The truth dies while lies make a living.” And on “”I Shall Not Be Moved” he goes on about the “senior circuit” in a funny way. Sure, it might help if he (and the rest of PE) was a little more of a feminist and less prone to advocate for the Nation of Islam, but those are petty quibbles. On the interludes that talk about “heroes” that should be on stamps, as referenced in the album title (which quotes a lyric from their iconic 1989 song “Fight the Power”), that statement has to be qualified quite a bit. Without speaking for S1W James Bomb, who wrote and performs the spoken parts, he has to concede that Malcolm X was on a U.S. stamp issued in 1999 (Chuck D cites Malcolm X as a hero on some notes to the album). When Elijah Muhammad is mentioned on “…Don’t Appear on No Stamps (Part I)” as “one of the great ones,” well, it is hard to agree agree — Elijah Muhammad deserves that honor as much as Richard Nixon, which is to say not at all. But this is really the wrong way to look at the album title, and the interludes of the same name. The point is that there are a lot of heroes out there and they aren’t all celebrities. Chuck D raps, “To some of my heroes/ be most of y’all’s foes,” going on to mention “Belafontes to Bikos / some dying incognegro / Che, Chávezes and Castros.” Flavor Flav name-checks Huey P. Newton, H. Rap Brown, Marcus Garvey, Angela Davis, C. Delores Tucker, Cynthia McKinney. And those are just a few. Harvey Milk, John Brown, Leonard Peltier, Subcomandante Marcos and others are mentioned too.

Future president Jimmy Carter gave a speech to a room full of lawyers on “law day” (an occasion created as a rebuttal to the international workers holiday May Day) in 1974 where he sharply criticized what lawyers do, and how they resisted Martin Luther King, Jr.‘s reforms, and concluded by discussing Leo Tolstoy‘s novel War and Peace:

“And the point of the book is that the course of human events, even the greatest historical events, are not determined by the leaders of a nation or a state, like Presidents or governors or senators. They are controlled by the combined wisdom and courage and commitment and discernment and unselfishness and compassion and love and idealism of the common ordinary people.”

Public Enemy is saying something similar. They are all over the Occupy Wall Street slogan the 1% vs. the 99%. As they put it, “Never have so many been screwed by so few.” As Chuck D said, “While I like artists like JAYZ and KANYE WEST and consider them giants who are afforded to project their opinion through culture, Its been difficult for me to like and respect their viewpoint in theses times. . I must fight for the balanced art projection of the real side of life as opposed to the fantasy world which most likely cannot be attained by many.” The liner notes to the album, too, are a history of PE’s efforts to use alternative and independent media, and to escape the clutches of greedy entertainment corporations.

It is great that PE is still around, still making music, and just as committed as ever — maybe more so — to making music that matters. The group’s heart is in the right place, and just as often their heads and fists are in the right place too.

Anthony Braxton – Four Compositions (Quartet) 1983

Anthony Braxton – Four Compositions (Quartet) 1983 Black Saint BSR 0066 (1983)

A good one for sure, but overshadowed by what came before and after. This is a transitional album. George Lewis is still around, but Braxton is essentially putting together a new quartet (Marilyn Crispell would soon replace Lewis). New ideas are surfacing, but they aren’t quite fully developed yet. This is a man who recorded and released music so prolifically that, for better or worse, you get to hear him evolve. “Composition No. 69 Q” is the highlight here; it kind of looks back to Braxton’s 70s work.

Anthony Braxton – Composition N. 247

Anthony Braxton – Composition N. 247 Leo CD LR 306 (2001)

A pretty challenging extended piece from Braxton and co. I like it, though it’s certainly not a casual listen and I don’t listen to it that often. It’s pretty dense, even relative to other Braxton releases, which says a lot. This will probably turn off many listeners. It features a lot of circular breathing and even includes bagpipes — to excellent effect. It’s yet another entry into Braxton’s “Ghost Trance Music” series. This comes more from the realm of modern composition than jazz, although it mixes elements of both. As composition, it intrigues me most because of what it suggests for music that extends continuously without any real fixed reference points to distinguish beginning, middle, end, or anything else. I also like the texture of the bagpipes, which you don’t often hear in this kind of setting.

Johnny Cash – The Sound of Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash – The Sound of Johnny Cash Columbia CS 8602 (1962)

After a few albums that tried to test the limits of Johnny Cash’s stylistic range and abilities — from the concept album Ride This Train to the retro country album Now There Was a Song! Memories From the Past to a second, drier gospel album Hymns From the Heart — he returns to the established folk-country sound of The Fabulous Johnny Cash and Songs of Our Soil with The Sound of Johnny Cash. While he is not trying to break any new ground, and there is not any standout single included, this remains one of his better early/middle period albums. It is a pleasantly mellow and likeable album that aligns the material and performances with Cash’s disposition as a singer raised on a farm but with some years of national touring behind him. He sort of honors his roots, yet also aims for something that has a touch of urban sophistication that stretches beyond those roots. By 1962 Cash’s voice had changed a bit, deepening and coarsening as a result of a steady touring performance schedule that left him with problems of chronic hoarseness. Those troubles with his vocal chords don’t surface on this album, but rather add a layer of complexity — turmoil even — just under the surface.

“In them Old Cottonfields Back Home” is a traditional folk song, and it just happens to ring true to Cash’s own upbringing on an Arkansas cotton farm. “Mr. Lonesome” with its vibraphone accompaniment and Cash singing at a lethargic pace, going into his lower vocal register, with light backing vocals, is pitch perfect for the album. Halfway between a smooth pop romance song and country heartbreak weeper it fits the hybridized city/country style that Cash had mastered. Then there is his first recording of the grim first-person tale “Delia’s Gone” (revived decades later with great success on American Recordings):

“First time I shot her
Shot her in the side
Hard to watch her suffer
But with the second shot she died”

With that song Cash was sticking to his fascination with murder and the dark side of life. A star of his stature might have been tempted to cast those interests aside and go exclusively with lighter fare — like Elvis around this time. Johnny Cash never did what might be expected, though.

Guitarist Luther Perkins is a crucial presence. As the music pushes toward urban sophistication, Perkins’ iconic boom-chicka-boom guitar picking is this primitive ballast that refuses to dissolve into the airy, consonant vocal harmonies. Yet that guitar sound is also an ideal foil for Cash’s vocal phrasing, allowing Cash’s singing to occupy a middle ground that moves confidently into the era of post-WWII prosperity without forgetting the grit, hard work and determination of a rural childhood. Cash’s background is honored while still being compartmentalized as a stepping stone to a role as an musical ambassador of sorts — most of Cash’s political views fit into the left-ish end of New Deal programs that accompanied the post-war boom.

Johnny Cash – I Would Like to See You Again

Johnny Cash – I Would Like to See You Again Columbia KC 35313 (1978)

In a relative sense at least, I Would Like to See You Again is one choice for Johnny Cash’s best album from the period that ran from the late 1970s through entire 1980s — only the unusual and slightly rough-hewn concept album The Rambler comes close, but that one puts theatrical elements in place of proper songs in a way that makes it less suited to regular listening. From the odd album cover, to the generally lackluster quality of his albums of this time period, this album doesn’t seem like it would have much to offer. Add to that the fact that Cash compilations tend to include the least interesting songs on it, and maybe it is not too surprising that this is often overlooked entirely. By no means is this a top tier Cash album. It still plays well all the way through — helped, perhaps, by being a meager 32 odd minutes in length. There is an amiable, mellow tone to most of the songs, with a hint of weariness and nostalgia. Cash’s voice is unburdened by overbearing fads and the band plays supportively. Pianist Earl Poole Ball, a veteran who played with Buck Owens and plenty of other country legends, was a huge asset to Cash’s band. He (with the other session pianists) plays just enough to change the pace without overdoing it. The guitarists add some politely sly licks on an electric guitar to further inject some virility.

The songs are nice. They suit Cash in middle age. One of the best is “Abner Brown.” Cash wrote the song himself. As a character portrait, it was a familiar format for him (e.g., “Cisco Clifton’s Fillin’ Station”). It is a tale of a small town drunk known from childhood, admired and celebrated by the narrator for his good nature. Others only tolerated Abner Brown, but Cash’s song celebrates him as a friend and a salt of earth type (in the full biblical meaning of the phrase drawn from the Sermon on the Mount). The one song that does seem out of character, with its heavy (right-wing) rural populism, is “After Taxes” (not written by Cash). But the album opens strong with the title track, “Lately,” and “I Wish I Was Crazy Again.” “I Don’t Think I Could Take You Back Again” might be the most effective performance.

Few will name this as a career favorite from Cash, but it is a good one to play to accompany a reunion of unselfconscious friends or any other gathering of effortlessly familiar, kindred spirits. It has a slight “bro” quality perhaps; it isn’t intrusive though.

Shawn Phillips – Collaboration

Shawn Phillips – Collaboration A&M SP 4324 (1971)

A bit too hippie-dippy at times, there is an over-abundance of gimmicks in the vocals, and the lyrics often fall flat or provoke half a cringe, but there is a lot to admire in the musical innovations here. Phillips takes folk and throws it together with prog rock, with touches of jazz and classical. This album is titled Collaboration and the jacket describes it as a collaboration by Shawn Phillips with Paul Buckmaster and Peter Robinson. Buckmaster does some amazing things. The song “Us We Are” includes orchestration, but it is so subtle and organic that the string and horn orchestrations are already well underway before they are noticeable! Songs like “Moonshine” have some nice keyboards from Robinson too, with a dexterity and morose ease that works very well. The side one closer “Armed” brings all the instrumentalists’ talents together best. So, while Collaboration has its appeal, it is perhaps a step down from Second Contribution, which is much more consistent even if somewhat less daring or innovative. It might have been better with an additional collaborator to handle lyrics and vocals.