Folk – Page 5 – Rock Salted

Dave Van Ronk With The Red Onion Jazz Band – In the Tradition

Dave Van Ronk With The Red Onion Jazz Band – In the Tradition Folklore FL-14001 (1963)

Dave Van Ronk’s music is tedious. It is so imposing and yet at the same time rather unfocused in its energies. He was a below average singer and only a good (but not great) guitarist. Although bits of this — the parts without the horns — seem to have had a big impact on the sound of early Tom Waits, Van Ronk kind of falls down compared to Waits. My biggest gripe with Van Ronk is that he clearly had too high an opinion of himself. He saw himself as a huge innovator and great talent, at least he thought that whatever he did have should have bestowed upon him great influence. Looking back on his albums, it is hard to find anything that holds up to even the level of fair-to-middling. He had his talents and his interests, but everybody does. He makes his case that his talents and interests are (or should be) considered better, more influential, more important than what other people have, but this comes across as more self-serving than he lets on. This is epitomized by his appearance in the Bob Dylan documentary No Direction Home, in which he displays a kind of “sour grapes” attitude, clearly still after all those years, thinking that he should have been bigger than Dylan, even as he feigns that he got over all that years ago. His professed innovations in singing more gruffly and such were really just adaptations of afro-American music to white middle class settings, and his supposedly innovating guitar arrangements seem like a joke compared to what the American Primitive guitarists (John Fahey) were doing around the same time, and later. But all that aside, Van Ronk has better stuff out there than In the Tradition.

Father John Misty – I Love You, Honeybear

Father John Misty – I Love You, Honeybear Sub Pop SP 1115 (2015)

Arrogant music for arrogant people.

While there are good moments on I Love You, Honeybear, this is music with a definite mean streak and a rather disingenuous, condescending approach to songcraft. First, the songs. The lyrics are blunt, delivered without much poetic lyricism, almost like a monologue. They are deeply cynical, and frequently sarcastic. Big words and references to current events are littered about, but there isn’t much behind them. They are used to contextualize the music, place it in front of people who pay attention to such things, but it doesn’t really run with any of those concepts. It is a rather self-conscious attempt to seem “with it”. (Also, some of the song titles parody famous old songs). Much of the time, though, things veer into misanthropic diatribes. This is were the music becomes arrogant. The words of the songs constantly put down posers and the falsehoods of mass culture. But, really, this is just a device to try to place the singer above it. He constantly takes a superior and derisive tone toward the objects of his scorn (and every song has something to complain about!). And this is why the music is disingenuous. It pretends to be above the subjects being trashed, and yet also depends upon them because it needs something to belittle, to assert superiority over. Occasionally, it works to a point. The opening lines to “The Night Josh Tillman Came to Our Apartment” are “Oh, I just love the kind of woman who can walk over a man / I mean like a god damn marching band.” Seems like a feminist anthem, right? Well, the song soon enough devolves into put downs like “I wonder if she even knows what that word means.” It returns to the singer explaining how people adore him and how stupidly this other character acts. This is emblematic of the whole album, which pretends to point out the failings of the world only to seize upon those failings for self-aggrandizement.

Lyrics aside, the instrumental music can be engaging, at times. Building from a base of contemporary “indie” folk, there are plenty of touches that look back to acid rock and psychedelic folk of the past, mostly of the 1960s and early 1970s. The record is well-produced, and it has a good command of all the elements of the past called up to service. Embellished layers and short, shifting resolutions can be catchy, like the driving, distorted electric guitar and pounding piano at the end of “The Ideal Husband” or the smoothly burning guitar soloing on “When You’re Smiling and Astride Me” and “Strange Encounter.” But the songs that are hardly more than an acoustic guitar and maybe a piano for accompaniment are a drag. And the singer (Josh Tillman) doesn’t have a particularly memorable tone of voice. The most interesting parts of this album would have been put to better use elsewhere, with an entirely different lyricist and singer.

Bob Dylan – The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Live 1975

Bob Dylan – The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Live 1975 – The Rolling Thunder Revue Legacy C2K 87047 (2002)

When Bob Dylan embarked on his “Rolling Thunder Revue” in 1975, it was part of his creative renaissance. It was his second wind after a hum-drum few years at the dawn of the 1970s. The revue traveled by train and included a laundry list of friends and collaborators, new and old. Before The Bootleg Series Vol. 5, Hard Rain had already been released documenting the tour. But Hard Rain was tired and disappointing. Here, Dylan sounds desperate, in the sense of being urged to go on.

This one opens with a blazing “Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here With You” (a song debuted on Nashville Skyline). It then drifts into a few rather dated reworkings of old songs. Dylan’s backing band may feature a lot of big names, but they play a kind of music that often suffers from the worst excesses of the era: ornate guitar wankery, hollow, tinny and effect-laden engineering, and a full and claustrophobic sound that lacks space. They are basically just self-indulgent hippie jams. But the end of disc one turns to folk. This highlights much of what was missing on Hard Rain and much of what came next in Dylan’s career. He started as a folkie, and he was a good one! He then went electric, which was what launched him to superstardom. His contentious concerts of that era would feature some acoustic folk and also electric rock. His albums of that era mostly did this too. Later though, particularly from the late 1970s onward, everything was more or less electric. He was far less successful in a purely rock setting. For whatever reason, there was only so much rock music that Dylan could put out at one time. It could be — let’s not forget — that when Dylan went electric it was before the modern rock era. It was only about a decade out from Elvis and other early rock that was not strictly urban. As that kind of stuff was left behind, Dylan didn’t adapt particularly well. Maybe folk seemed equally of the past at times (he did return to it though). But a set like The Bootleg Series Vol. 5 includes the right amount of folk. It’s some of the most consistent material here. For instance, there’s a great “Tangled Up in Blue” here (maybe better than the studio version). The set wraps with more electric material at the end of disc two. The last few electric songs work better on average than much of disc one, settling into a sound comparable to contemporary Grateful Dead. The second disc also features a lot of songs from the not-yet-released Desire, and the whole band seems engaged with the new material.

There is something hard in this music. It looks back more than forward. It is like a reaction to the 1960s. Not everything had gone as planned. Dylan couldn’t have anticipated his celebrity status. He probably wouldn’t have expected his career to start slipping in the 70s. What makes this interesting in how it tries to avoid defeat. But in doing that you can sense that much more than before the possibility of defeat looms larger in Dylan’s consciousness. This was it though. Desire, released a few months later, would be the last truly relevant Dylan album.

[One note about the packaging here. I checked this out from my library, so something might have been missing from the box, but there appears to be no listing of recording dates or personnel for each song. Presumably, this is culled from multiple concerts. It’s quite impossible to tell though.]

The Beach Boys – Beach Boys’ Party!

The Beach Boys – Beach Boys’ Party! Capitol MAS-2398 (1965)

A better album than it usually gets credit for. Not truly a “live” album, it was certainly a step up from their only real live album of the 1960s, Beach Boys Concert. The whole thing seems quite influenced by the urban folk movement still underway. This is the only Beach Boys album that could draw comparisons to Peter, Paul & Mary and the like. But this is more carefree and juvenile than any folk albums proper of the day.

John Fahey – Vol. II: Death Chants, Breakdowns and Military Waltzes

John Fahey – Vol. II: Death Chants, Breakdowns and Military Waltzes Takoma C-1003 (1963; 1967)

A good choice for an introduction to John Fahey. He recorded two versions of the album, which features songs on the more straightforward side of his repertoire when he was still expressing things that fall more or less within the realm of the traditional musics from which the underlying stylistic elements originate. A 1998 CD collection presents the two different versions of Death Chants, Breakdowns and Military Waltzes. Fahey’s technique on the 1967 re-recording of the original album is far crisper, and the recording quality is imminently superior so you hear everything in greater detail. The second time around he managed to improve on some songs in the relatively weak middle section of the original 1963 album (“On the Beach at Waikiki”, “Spanish Dance”, “John Henry Variations” and “Take a Look at That Baby”). Then again, his performances of “Some Summer Day” and “When Springtime Comes Again” are arguably superior on the original version, and the different versions of the album didn’t include all the same songs, so it’s nice to have both complete versions of the album collected on one CD. If you find yourself drawn to some of the more unusual elements detectable in each song, then proceed to Fahey’s more challenging stuff like Volume 6: Days Have Gone By and The Voice of the Turtle. If you simply like the impressive guitar technique and the nice songwriting, then try other Fahey releases like The Transfiguration of Blind Joe Death and Vol 3 Dance of Death & Other Plantation Favorites or something from Fahey acolytes like Leo Kottke.

John Fahey – City of Refuge

John Fahey – City of Refuge Tim/Kerr 644 830 127-2 (1997)

Spooky. John Fahey mounted something of a comeback in the late 1990s. City of Refuge was the first album of that comeback, and it was his most experimental offering in more than twenty-five years. From this evidence there should be no doubt what the likes of Gastr del Sol saw in Fahey. Most of this is pretty dark stuff. “The Mill Pond” is a misfire. Yet “Fanfare” and “City of Refuge III” are outstanding. The former finds Fahey plugged in and playing some effective electrified guitar against industrial sounds and Stereolab samples. The latter is an acoustic epic, but sounds more ominous than what you might expect based on his past recordings. Not an easy listen by any means, but a welcomed return to more challenging music by a fascinating guitarist.

John Fahey – Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You

John Fahey – Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You: The Fonotone Years [1958-1965] Dust-to-Digital DTD-21 (2011)

A collection of material recorded for Joe Bussard‘s Fonotone label in Fahey’s early years. Fonotone billed itself as the last label issuing records in the old 78 RPM format. There is a documentary about Bussard, a well-known vintage record collector, were he mentions buying old 78s off people and paying them a “fair price,” in other words he attempts an apology for paying these folks far less than what he thought the records were worth. Anyway, as recounted in the opening interview on this set, Fahey would go over to Bussard’s place and Bussard would give him booze and let him take records from his pile of duplicates. This was enough incentive for Fahey to swing by and cut the recordings collected here.

Compared to Fahey’s recordings on his own Takoma label, most of these Fonotone ones are more traditional blues and folk, without the more experimental edge Fahey elsewhere explored. One thing that should probably be pointed out is that some of these were released under an alias, and Fahey does some kind of “voice acting” that is best described as racist minstrelsy. Aside from that, though, the guitar playing is quite good on almost all the cuts.

Things sort of modernize a bit to resemble Fahey’s Takoma recordings on some of the 1962 cuts. However, compared to the Takoma recordings some of these sound like only rehearsals. Some terrible vocals and accompaniment also appear. The more modern material from 1962 onward takes on a noticeably darker emotional tone. The last disc, recorded mostly in 1965, is the best. Fahey had grown tremendously as a guitarist, and he was now playing in his own unique, distinct style.

Rogue’s Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, & Chanteys

Various Artists – Rogue’s Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, & Chanteys Anti- Records 86817-2 (2006)

Meh. These kinds of albums rarely fully succeed. There is some great material, but some truly horrible performances too. As to the best stuff, I would point to Loudon Wainwright III‘s stunning rendition of “Turkish Revelry” (which was written back in 1635 or earlier and titled “The Sweet Trinity” when collected by Francis Child, but also known as “Sir Walter Raleigh Sailing In The Lowlands”, “The Golden Vanity”, “The Golden Willow Tree” and other name variants — The Carter Family recorded it as “Sinking in the Lonesome Sea“) and the two Baby Gramps songs. Other decent stuff is Richard Greene and Jackshit‘s “Shenandoah” and Lucinda Williams‘s “Bonnie Portmore”. Yet, I feel obligated to warn that some of this stuff is just so terrible as to kind of ruin the whole album. As the liner notes attest, it seems a few artists just kind of showed up at the studio and played whatever, without familiarity with the material or much rehearsal. The results in those instances seem to be as terrible as circumstances would suggest. This album is not good enough to recommend, except for the Loudon Wainwright and Baby Gramps tracks, which are great and well worth seeking out.

Chad VanGaalen – Shrink Dust

Chad VanGaalen – Shrink Dust Flemish Eye 027 (2014)

Here’s a guy that seems to have a lot of potential. Shrink Dust has a lot of great songs that employ a lot of different textures to great effect — folk, psychedelic garage rock, alt country. However, VanGaalen usually sings in a highly affected, “twee” warble that detracts from many of the performances. It is really an egotistical thing. The lyrics also come up a bit short much of the time. Anyway, in spite of the flaws, the album is enjoyable. From what I read elsewhere people have been saying this guy is “promising” for many years, and it may be that he’s just not ready to step outside himself, ditch the stupid style of singing or bring in a different one and start a band, and maybe work with a lyricist, and move on to the next level. He seems to hoard the spotlight too much for that, like so many outsider type artists. Still, there are some nice things here, and he remains a promising talent.

Bob Dylan – Blood on the Tracks

Bob Dylan – Blood on the Tracks Columbia PC 33235 (1975)

In a way, isn’t this album everything that New Morning failed to be? What I mean is that New Morning always seemed like Dylan trying to sound contemporary and relevant by making overtures to the California singer-songwriter movement. The problem was Dylan didn’t really fit well into that genre (even if he had moved to Malibu). Blood on the Tracks turned things around and had a more bitter and angry tone, more stripped down instrumentation, more of a narrative lyrical approach, and less demands on Dylan’s limited vocal abilities. The newer approach suits Dylan a whole lot better. One thing that is striking when comparing these two albums is that New Morning seems like it is trying to be personal, while Blood on the Tracks seems like it can’t help being personal. The latter is far more compelling.

Dylan’s marriage was headed for divorce when this album was recorded. That says volumes about the subject matter. These are break-up songs. The protagonists seem hurt, recently, and still hurting. These songs speak from a place too close to the pain to be past or above it. Was the whole relationship wrong from the beginning? Who caused it to go wrong? Who was to blame? Him? What will he do know? Dylan had relocated to California a year earlier, but this music was a return, or sorts, to the kind he had made back in New York, before the move, before things kind of fell apart. He’s looking back to make sense of the past before moving on into the future. There is catharsis at work here.

This isn’t the kind of album that makes for easy listening, at least not on any kind of regular basis. It’s rather surprising it was so popular. But it is a success, and perhaps the last really great album Dylan would make. One of the essentials of his storied career.