Bob Deakin Short Stories

The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was originally relased in 1967.

As we celebrated the 40th anniversary of the release of The Beatles seminal Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album, I was compelled to finish the review that I never completed. I was a few months short of my second birthday when the album was released, but it had a profound effect on me.

Thanks to older brothers and sisters, the album was played over and over again as I learned the basics of life and an early appreciation of music. I didn’t yet know how to write or reason, but I’m confident that the countless comments that I heard at the time about the Beatles, the songs and the album were deposited into my subconscious memory for later withdrawal.

What I do remember vividly are some of the dreams I had about the imagery from the album; most notably John Lennon’s glasses from the cover photos, Ringo’s drum break in “A Little Help From My Friends” and the recurring nightmare I had about “Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds.”

My older sister’s name is Chris, known around the house as “Chrissy” as a kid, and I had this very scary dream, set at night in our back yard, that she was in the sky, with shiny things around her, hence, Chrissy in the Sky With Diamonds. It wasn’t a good dream. She was kind of stuck up in the clouds with Lennon and his glasses on while the rest of us were on the ground kind of staring up at her with other weird images popping up all around.

Lennon’s voice in that song really bothered me. It was as if he put Chrissy up there and was taunting us about it. There was no psychological reason for the dream. I loved my sister as I did everybody in the family and I didn’t want her to be up there with that weirdo. The dream didn’t go much farther than that, but it came back to me a few more times until the song was forever etched in my mind as “Chrissy in the Sky with Diamonds.”

I replay the image of that dream every time I hear the song (which has only been a thousand times or so) and to this day it’s one of the few Beatles songs that I don’t like. The CD version of the album sounds like crap compared to my mint condition vinyl LP, but the one thing I like is that I can skip to the next song with the click of a remote control, as opposed to walking to the turntable and lifting the tone-arm and moving it to “Getting Better,” which has always had a double meaning to me, as a result.

Here’s how my review of the album would have read if I was able to put those thoughts and images together as a very mature one year-old.

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

The first song on this unique new album, the title track, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” really blew my mind, which isn’t saying much for a one year-old. The song is dominated by brass with some really groovy guitar licks by George Harrison woven in between. The song clomps along in a steady march and climaxes with a very impressive ascending vocal harmony at the end. The crowd applause is a nice touch, too. Very unusual for a rock band to begin an album with an overture.

What’s really cool is how the first song leads into the second; “A Little Help From My Friends.” I don’t know who these friends are that the Beatles speak of but they must have quite an influence on them. Ringo Starr shows a fine baritone voice that we’ve not heard before and he adds a great, albeit, simple drum break early that gives the song a moment of reflection that works to perfection.

“Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” is the third track and it’s quite the step back into the mellow introspective. John Lennon does the vocal and sounds almost creepy, singing in a voice we’ve never heard from him. The song is hauntingly breathtaking and soothing while disturbing at the same time. We aren’t told who Lucy is, why she’s in the sky or where diamonds come in to play but it’s the Beatles, so it must be cool. It’s almost as if the title of the song is an allegorical word play on something that the Beatles are not informing us about.

I don’t know if I’m more frightened by the way John sings this song or the way he looks in that satin green, 19th Century military uniform on the album photos. He also now sports these round, wire-rimmed glasses that make him look really way out. It almost looks as if he’s doing drugs or something, but this is the Beatles, and we all know these fine Englishmen don’t dabble in that stuff.

“Getting Better” is next and that’s right. The album gets immediately better with this song. It is a breath of fresh air following the emotional roller coaster that is the first three songs.

I’ve got to admit it’s getting better
A little better all the time
I have to admit it’s getting better
It’s getting better, since you’ve been mine

Whoever it is that Lennon and McCartney are referring to, she must be quite a girl. I always figured since the Beatles are so famous, they must have girls throwing themselves at them everywhere they go. I’m sure we will find out one of these days very soon who this special someone is who has had such a positive effect.

Emotions aside, Paul McCartney drives this song with his bass guitar while he and Lennon team up for a brilliant lead vocal duo throughout. It is odd to hear a bass guitar lead a song but McCartney’s Rickenbacker 4001 Bass does just that. Harrison’s halting cadence on the guitar adds the perfect touch of an optimistic march forward.

Great phrasing and contradictory messages abound including Can’t get no worse, as well as pictures of their past (I used to be cruel to my woman) that are perhaps better left unsaid. Best song on the album, hands down.

“Fixing a Hole” really sent me for a loop with that somber harmonium at the beginning. I was also wondering what kind of hole needs fixing. Anyway, very nice and powerful vocal by McCartney with a great distorted guitar break by Harrison midway through. Love the rising falsettos that close out the song. McCartney’s energy builds and builds, getting seemingly desperate about a seemingly banal subject.

Seems like he was spooked by the hole where the rain gets in. Stops my mind from wondering? He seems to have been caught in a moment of heightened imagination. The Beatles seem to have a lot of those type of moments these days. Well, they’re getting older and maybe they’re starting to experiment with different ways of thinking, or something. I heard that Lennon’s been hanging around with Mick Jagger, and I hear that guy hangs with the extra groovy people.

“She’s Leaving Home” is quite the departure in emotions once again, which seems to define this album. Beautifully Victorian in its style, the string quartet provides the perfect backdrop to this sad story of a young girl leaving home and leaving her parents heartbroken.

McCartney’s vocal tells a third-person story so easy to visualize, buttressed by Lennon’s answer to each of his statements in the verses, placed so cleverly in the distant background. McCartney’s falsetto soars ever more toward the climatic and terribly sad conclusion, matched by Lennon’s Bye, Bye voice of his conscience. The story doesn’t have a happy ending, and I feel as if I’ve lost someone forever, although I will never let it happen again.

“Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite!” is the last song on Side A.

What the hell is going on here?

A raucous calliope and thumping drums set the tone in this peculiar tune which I may never figure out. I’m not even sure the lyrics on the recording match those on the back cover of the album.

Messrs. K and H assure the public
Their production will be second to none
And of course Henry The Horse dances the waltz!

These guys are getting really weird. It’s bad enough that those words make no sense but I can swear Lennon is singing And of course Henry The Horse and Fuzzy The Whale!

Still makes no sense but I’m glad it’s the last song on the first side because I can push the stop button on my turntable to end it and turn the album over.

“With You, Without You” opens side B. We don’t get many George Harrison songs on Beatles albums and I wonder why we go this one. Sitars look really groovy and it’s fun to watch somebody play it but, like yodeling, I don’t want to hear it.

I’m sorry George. I loved “If I Needed Someone” on the Rubber Soul album and I hope to hear more beautiful songs like that in the future. This is probably just a phase George is going through with this Indian music and probably the last we hear of that stuff on a Beatles album.

“When I’m Sixty-Four” is next and now we’re floating back to Earth. This song is steeped in the classic Al Jolson style of crooning in the 1920s and if I didn’t know better, I might even say it was written by McCartney by himself, even though the credit is Lennon-McCartney. You don’t suppose these guys just bill every song as a co-write do you? Maybe Lennon added the line Doing the garden, digging the weeds. The way he’s been acting lately, it almost seems like he’s been digging weed, although this is the Beatles, and we know these fine Englishmen don’t dabble in that stuff. Certainly not McCartney.

“Lovely Rita” follows that and man, where is this album going? I can’t imagine McCartney being attracted to the local meter maid when we see film clips of a thousand women chasing the Beatles down the street. This song is very bland in lyric and melody although the vocal harmonies are great. That said, where does this fit on this album? Am I missing something?

“Good Morning, Good Morning” follows Rita and we’re going down hill Daddy-O. I would have to be on drugs to enjoy this song, and I’m sure that’s not the message that the Beatles are sending because we know these guys don’t do that stuff; although my suspicions are growing about Lennon. Maybe those friends he’s been hanging out with are having some strange influence on him. Probably just a phase, like Harrison and the Indian music.

“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)”

Finally a good song. It seems like a week ago I was excited about how this album was getting better all the time, when I was starting to think that it can’t get no worse.

This song takes off like one of those rockets they’re sending into orbit nowadays. A one, two, three, four count off from McCartney and the Beatles are rocking like the Yardbirds on their best day. This reprise of the title track moves quick and is over before you know it, but not before you forget it. Harrison plays some mean distorted guitar with Ringo pushing the song along with a frantic pace, which ends with the first note of the last song on the album.

It leaves us winded, but poised for a song with meaning and, more importantly; a song from John Lennon.

“A Day In The Life” is a tour de force emotional roller coaster that epitomizes and completes the album we thought we were getting when it started.

Lennon brings back his “Lucy” voice, sounding unusually winded and disappointed, not like we’ve heard from a Beatle before. He tells the sad story of a lucky man who made the grade yet blew his mind out in a car because he hadn’t noticed that the lights had changed. A crowd of people stood and stared. They’d seen his face before although they weren’t sure if he was from the House of Lords.

Lots of imagery here. Perhaps Lennon is speaking metaphorically and cynically of McCartney’s rise to the forefront of the band, which seems to have happened in the past year. If that is his point, he speaks as though his band mate has died, artistically, losing touch with reality and succumbing to his exploding ego.

We can’t tell what’s going on behind the scenes with the Beatles but Lennon has developed a very introspective and brutally honest way of expressing himself in his songs. If you ask me, strange as it may seem, he’s talking about himself.

The song does an about face when the melody changes abruptly and McCartney chimes in with Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Very interesting interlude from the guy this song may be about. I’m just getting confused with all of that when they do a brilliant drop back into the original melody.

Lennon picks back up with the vocal spouting off about 4,000 “small” holes at the Royal Albert Hall, which, coincidentally, seats about 4,000. I don’t think John is going to be invited to Tea with the Queen any time soon.

The song concludes with Lennon’s line, I’d love to turn you on, followed by an orchestral hyper-climax that ends with all hands on the piano for the final note, which rings on in a terrifying manner for what seems like eternity. I think I’ll hide under the covers now.

There is this developing tavern tale with Beatles weirdos that Paul is dead. There are countless “clues” on the album giving credence to the story such as Paul standing with his back to the camera on the back album cover and the lyric, He blew his mind out in a car. There is also a message divulged when playing backwards the recent single, “Strawberry Fields Forever,” which conveys I Buried Paul at the end of the track. Incidentally, that song and “Penny Lane,” the B-side, would have fit much better on this album than any number of the other tracks that made it.

It’s actually a clever ploy on the part of the Beatles marketing bandwagon but I have to ask myself, why would they need more publicity? Also, who is the guy they found to replace him who writes songs, sings, plays incredible bass, guitar and keyboards? I guess it must be those guys from Phil Spector’s “Wrecking Crew.”

The next thing you know, they’re going to be circulating stories that it wasn’t Lee Harvey Oswald who killed Kennedy.

“Sgt. Pepper” is undeniably original, at times scary and sometimes too weird for listening pleasure. I think the guys are spending a little too much time with their friends, although I’m sure they have lots more friends now that they’re The Beatles. Nonetheless, I’m sure there are plenty of great albums to come, and I bet Lennon starts hanging around with the right people again. I heard he has this really nice new girlfriend who’s from Japan.

I bet she straightens his life right out and the band is together for the next 20 years.

Copyright 2009

Sailing, takes me away to where I’ve always heard it could be.

Every time I see a pink flamingo, even a fake one dressed like Angela Lansbury on Murder, She Wrote, I think of Christopher Cross’s tremendously successful self-titled album and smash hit song, “Sailing,” from 1979. The cover features an illustrated pink flamingo perched on one leg in the middle of a pond, encircled in a green background, and I remember it on the floor of many a living room at the time, usually leaning against the base of the stereo having recently been played.

Why I remember this is because the album was so mellow – adult contemporary before the category even existed – and I would see the most unlikely of characters with the album in their possession. My sister had it, and I could understand that, but my brothers did too and they were much more prone to crank Pink Floyd or Steve Miller at the time.

I used to hang around at the local volunteer firehouse at the time too, and even some of the biggest, toughest guys could be seen with the album or cassette in the firehouse or in their car on the way to a football game. I even saw the flamingo album under the arm of the occasional classmate at my junior high school, which blew me away seeing as how image conscious junior high school students were and have always been.

The album may have appealed to such a broad audience because it featured some of the hottest musicians of the time including Michael McDonald of the Doobie Brothers, Don Henley of the Eagles, guitar legends Larry Carlton and Eric Johnson as well as vocalists Nicolette Larson and J.D. Souther. It also had a rocking tune in “Ride Like The Wind,” which made its way into other genres such as NASCAR and the NBA as a theme song for highlight films.

I listened to the album cover to cover many times, as I did with anything my brothers and sisters had in the house, and I always thought it was a rather forgettable album save for the two hit songs. I really liked “Ride Like the Wind” for its steady thumping drum part that I used to play on my own set, and the smoking guitar solo at the end. Speaking of which, with Larry Carlton and Eric Johnson booked for the sessions, why would Christopher Cross play the lead guitar solo in the song? In any event, he nailed it.

I will admit, however, that I always loved the song “Sailing” and its mesmerizing, rudimentary guitar rhythm as the main verse. I was, however, afraid to play it loud enough for anyone else to hear or to be seen with the album because it was so feminine – from Chris’s simpy lead vocals to the wistful title track and more than anything else, the album cover with the pink flamingo.

I wasn’t even sure flamingos really existed except for yard decorations, and further research has taught me that flamingos do exist in colors other than pink. As for the record company, I’d be willing to bet Warner Bros. had second thoughts about the album cover, which may have even pushed them over the edge to spring for Michael McDonald’s and Don Henley’s session fees.

As it turns out, I quickly realized that I was the only one afraid to flaunt my affection for the album. “Sailing” was taking everyone else away to where they always heard it would be, but I was afraid to come out from belowdecks.

Copyright 2009

I watched Michael Jackson’s This Is It at the local movie theater this past weekend and walked away struck first and foremost by the sadness that I’ll never be able to enjoy his talents anymore. When any entertainment superstar that was a part of our childhood passes on – whatever the circumstances – a part of our youth passes with them.

None of us knew him personally, even the few I’ve met who did know him personally, but I feel as though I’ve lost something; like someone took all my Michael Jackson and Jackson Five albums off the shelves and sprinkled a thick layer of dust on them. All of mine are in mint condition but they just aged 25 years overnight.

For me, the same thing happened with John Lennon, Elvis Presley, George Harrison and Dennis Wilson of The Beach Boys. I grew up with these musicians staring at their photos, lyrics and liner notes on albums as I listened to the music intently, sitting on my bedroom floor, on the living room couch with headphones on, driving around in my car or lying on the beach or in an open field. Their music created visions that would last a lifetime, but once they were gone those visions became memories, which are nice but sad.

I could live by quotes such as Neil Diamond’s “Used to be’s don’t count anymore, they just lay on the floor ’til you sweep them away” from “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” (I can’t believe I just quoted that song) or Ricky Nelson’s “If memories were all I sang, I’d rather drive a truck” from “Garden Party.” I choose not to however, because the songs I’ve loved are too good to sweep away or abandon. Listening to them or watching the videos may be sad but they still bring joy. I just now will be forever separating the past from the present.

This Is It provides an effective and original insight into the planning of the concert tour of a megastar and the way Michael participated, albeit we don’t see how often he was actually at rehearsals, which was probably not as often as suggested judging by the cheers from the cast and crew when he did show up. Nonetheless, the footage of his performances at rehearsals is at times, nothing short of spectacular.

The quality of the images is very good and the sound is excellent. Most of the film is shot onstage at Staples Center in Los Angels with a live band playing and much of the lighting and special effects in operation. It begins with an opening montage of interviews with the dancers who are being chosen for the tour, a la American Idol, but fortunately it quickly moves on from there into the rehearsals. I felt that this introduction to the dancers actually took away from the film, as from there on, I got the impression that they weren’t seasoned professionals as much as amateurs star-struck by Michael. In addition to that, compared to him, they looked like amateurs, as anyone would.

There is a scene late in the This Is It where Michael is blocking the dance steps for “Billy Jean,” then lets the drummer vamp the rhythm as he goes through an extended series of steps based on the famous video. It was unrehearsed, as he bypassed much of the singing to focus on his moves. Michael is at his best here and moviegoers see the best of his dancing, and the scene is a great show by itself and the reason Michael Jackson was who he was. There may have been better acrobats, better singers and better choreographers, but no better performers than present in these few minutes of film, from a 50 year-old at that.

He appeared to have lost nothing over the years, and his audience – his backup dancers in front of the stage – were in awe, as the film displays.

Also a very touching scene is his rehearsals for “Human Nature.” His voice sounds great, and the tenderness of the song is aptly reflected in the light show and the emotions of the cast and crew as they watch.

The film also gives insight into the creation of an updated version of a film sequence for “Thriller,” shot in 3D, once again with the Vincent Price voice-over, as well as new film vignettes for other songs. We get a lot of concert producer and director Kenny Ortega barking orders to the cast and crew while nurturing the star – a common contradiction experienced by anyone who has ever been part of a major label film shoot or recording session.

Michael appears healthy although gaunt, which has been the description of him for the last 25 years. He is seen watching playbacks of video, coaching musicians and dancers and we see a touching explanation of his views on the environment as he discusses the recording and film footage for “Earth Song,” from his HIStory album. It’s a bit trite, following four decades of environmental concerns from musicians, but the footage is well produced, typically in line with Michael’s touch.

There are no shots of him away from the stage on his own time, but the film is a documentary of the preparation of a concert tour, so as much as I wanted to see that, it may not have been available for the film.

All in all, This Is It gives an effective insight into the production of a major tour that is not rife with the usual rock & roll eccentricities seen in many other ‘tour films’ such as fights, drug use or legal battles. Michael is portrayed as a gentle soul, extremely prepared, compassionate and demanding of himself. Not a surprise to anyone, but in the past tense a somber finality.

I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the production and the concise editing and organization of the piece as a whole, which runs just short of two hours. I’m not a Michael Jackson fanatic, nor a dance aficionado, but I have been forever taken with his artistic genius, and am sad for the passing of part of my youth and the new found layer of dust on my albums.

Copyright 2009

Donald Fagen during the Heavy Rollers Tour in 2007.

Saw Steely Dan’s Heavy Rollers Tour the other night at the Hard Rock in Orlando. Nice venue, seats about 2,000 in a pretty cozy setting with balconies and standing areas surrounding. Much smaller setting than I would expect for a Dan show, and a much worse sound system.

I realize it’s not 1977 anymore so I wasn’t expecting a polished, cutting-edge performance with hot new material. However, they played “Two Against Nature” which has a nice, shuffle beat, which was the title song from that album in 2000. It was the best song of the night even though most in the audience probably thought it was a new tune.

Familiar songs included “Hey Nineteen,” preceded by Fagen explaining a fun experience with some chick on the beach with a bottle of Cuervo and some “other stuff” a long time ago. Soon after, “Bad Sneakers” went over big with the crowd, which sang every song, word for word, with him throughout the night.

I dressed in a bright Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sneaks and, not so surprisingly, fit in perfect with the rest of the crowd, only younger. Every guy in the place looked like Barry Gibb with a Hawaiian shirt and a girlfriend/wife with big blond hair. There was no pot smoking at the show, as you would be immediately cuffed and arrested if you did, but I venture that almost everybody at the show would have lunged at a joint if busted out. By rough estimation, I would imagine that the crowd had a collective hundreds of thousands of pounds of dope smoking experience.

Music fan’s intuition.

The band was good but not great. Good bass player, but the Dan is not about the bass guitar. Jon Herington played lead and rhythm guitar throughout the show but didn’t stand out, partly because the sound system didn’t let him. Walter Becker showed up but wasn’t in top form, and I honestly don’t know what top form is for Becker in a live setting. I said the same thing after I saw him in the mid-90s at a Dan show in Boston. I bet people said the same thing in the 70s. He nails it in the studio with hours to kill on each bar but doesn’t do it live, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

I have no problem with that. I would much rather listen to a polished, rehearsed and calculated performance on tape than I would live so I’m never going to hold that against him.

Four-piece horn section for the show: Trumpet, alto-sax, baritone-sax and trombone. They were okay. I wasn’t expecting the Brecker brothers, Chuck Findley, Tom Scott, Jim Horn, David Sanborn, Wayne Shorter and all the rest, but it’s Steely Dan, and they set the bar high a long time ago. All of the sax solos sounded like somebody just blowing notes in the key of the song. Not the first time I’ve seen that at a live show. As a matter of fact, that happens pretty much every time I see a live show. That’s why studio musicians are studio musicians. That’s also why recordings sound better than live shows.

This is Steely Dan; not the Grateful Dead: Have I made my point? I understand if you don’t like my cynicism.

The drummer was great. Keith Carlock. Never heard of him but he carried the band with his energy. I hate to say that had to happen at a Dan show but it did. He didn’t play all of the licks like they were played on the albums (historically a problem of mine) but he was really good. They actually played “Aja” and his solos made for the most entertaining moments of the night. Not exactly Steve Gadd but it was good and very powerful. The crowd was leaning on his every move.

Overall, not such a great show. I saw them in ‘94 and that was great show. Classy, reserved and restrained. Last Saturday night it was an attempt at a rock show and it didn’t need to be. Steely Dan fans don’t need that. They want sophistication, precision, brilliant instrumentals and Donald Fagen. There’s no reason why this show couldn’t have provided that. It would be the perfect tonic for every other concert out there; which is what Steely Dan has always been about.

Fagen looked really weird, which is cool. He leaned, peculiarly, over his Fender Rhodes electric piano all night looking like a white Ray Charles. He looks pretty cool although I’m not totally convinced that he’s not blind. He wears these heavy, dark sunglasses and grimaces around at the audience as if he’s on drugs, which I pray that he is. He conducted the band all night long with hand cues and that made me feel better. He’s still in charge.

What it comes down to is, if you’re going to charge $50 to $150 for tickets for your show, give your fans a show. You’re Steely Dan. Act like it. I want to see ugly guys playing great instrumentals, not hot chicks singing “Dirty Work,” which one of them was allowed to do, singing lead. I realize David Palmer hasn’t been with the band since the early 70s but Fagen could have sung that lead and done it well.

Do I sound like a Dan snob?

Guilty as charged.

Walter Becker sang “Monkey in Your Soul,” which was good to see. If he wasn’t at the show I would have felt cheated. Steely Dan songs ain’t exactly “You Are My Sunshine” so I can’t fault anyone for not playing the licks like they sounded on the album, but I want to. They played “Kid Charlemagne” and Becker and Herington did okay but how do you nail that song? We all know that Larry Carlton played lead on that recording and now we know why: He was remarkably better than pretty much everybody, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

I wish that one of these days we could see a Steely Dan concert of Fagen, Becker, and the rest of the studio legends that produced these tunes. I want to see Lee Ritenour, Carlton, Chuck Rainey, Michael McDonald, Sherlie Matthews, Venetta Fields, Clydie King, Victor Feldman, Steve Gadd and all of the rest of the studio cats on stage, making like they did in the studio.

I’m very demanding but Steely Dan created this monster that I have become. I am sorry for that but it wasn’t me, it was they who stepped upon the platform, telling me about the man who gave me the news.

“He said you must be joking son, where did you get those shoes.”

When I stop trying to figure that line out I’ll stop going to see Steely Dan.

(Originally published on Bob Deakin’s Blogspot Site in 2007)

Copyright 2007

The cover of Doug Branson's Don't Leave Home Without One

Out of the woods of northwestern Connecticut comes a new musical release from composer-musician, multimedia man Doug Branson. Don’t Leave Home Without One is the title of the disk and Branson has a host of friends join him as well as performing some of the tunes by himself.

He performed and recorded most of the tracks in his hay barn Connecticut studio under the trees and recorded additional tracks at studios in upstate New York, Massachusetts and Philadelphia. Provided is a wonderful case study for a psychology student in this tour of his emotions and angles of the past couple of years. The titles tell the story and the tunes often portray another as Branson organizes a cluster of his own writing and singing voices throughout.

It opens with “You are the Girl” featuring a country piano track and a middle-of-the-road feel to this simple tune featuring the varying sounds of dB’s vocals with an interesting distant echo effect on backing vocal tracks hinting at trouble ahead.

“Your Boyfriend is a Dick.”

So much for FM air play.

Branson employs the rasp in his voice for this gem, the second on the disk, and gets right to the point. John Couch intersperses a flowing lead guitar throughout and Bobbi “FunkeeBoy” Tammaro adds some sugar with the keys. I’m sure dB has met a few dick boyfriends in his time and may regret not being more forthcoming to the girlfriends.

“He’s a dick … at least he thinks with it” and “I told you his name is Richard”-spoken by one of the girls-are two classic lines adding to the fun and I’d be willing to bet the guy’s name was not Richard at all, although I’m quite sure he was a dick, and probably still is.

Some truth to the rumor that dB wrote this song to his girlfriend in a fit of self-loathing.

dB plays all the tracks on “Under the Stars,” mixing simple keyboard lines with soft crunching rhythm guitars in a straight-ahead blues trek. As odd as it sounds the first time it grows with each listen. Just one of those things. “Excellent Day” brings us another voice from the same singer, giving us a quick look at another one of his personalities in a spirit of new beginning. The beauty of the song is the singer’s sincere lack of insincerity.

A haunting synth track lays a nice background to “Silent Streets,” perhaps an ode to English/Punk/Grunge influences with dB doing his best Lou Reed. Heartfelt keyboard and guitar chords drive the tune with the lead vocalist’s alter-ego on backing vocals. Interesting effect of the two vocals fighting off each other throughout and it’s all Mr. dB himself. Somebody give Ziggy Stardust a copy of this.

“I’m Not Laughin About it.”

This one was left off a “Crazy World of Arthur Brown” album in the sixties – well maybe – and brought back to life by dB with a fine guitar solo at the end. It’ll be OK, dB, really. I know it’s not funny but I don’t know what it is, either.

dB characteristically utilizes a composite of styles on “People, Places and Things.” The track features hints of SKA – ala Madness – with instrumental jams that could fit on a Matchbox Foo Peppers album, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Great break into a guitar jam midway through to send the tune on its way to a furious finish before stepping back into a stylish piano (McKean Sinkler) interlude to calm things down. Great drum track (Ed McGrogan) too and a nice touch with the guitar (Herc Fede) fade leading the way out the door.

Best moments on the disk.

“The Rant (F-Word Version).”

A possible subconscious ode to Ian Hunter without the young dudes, Mr. dB may still be pissed off at the dick boyfriend here. He is from Philly after all, and those guys carry a grudge and step up for their women. Excellent cameo appearances by more of dB’s personalities, particularly a buzzing background vocal “she said, she said” bouncing off the power chords.

I only wish “This is a Beautiful Country was longer.” I’m taking the title at face value but who knows. No vocals but another fine piano performance by Sinkler and lead guitar by Fede carry this song to a place Branson and Fede mapped out. The guitars with Darrin Gardiner’s bass and the straight groove by McGrogan work. Simple and sweet. Message received. Another fine mix out of the Millennium Studio with the boys in Philly.

The disk has more tracks including “Suicide Bomber” and an “Ode 2 Kurt Cobain,” as well as “Terrible Videos on MTV,” which takes us to a place where none of us wants to go. I think that is the point but I believe dB really wants to hit the MTV scene. Be careful man, EVERYONE’S boyfriend is a dick in those circles.

Copyright 2009

Nick Heyward’s North of a Miracle was originally released in 1983 following his success with British band Haircut 100. It epitomized the resurgence of that time using real orchestral instruments instead of synthesizers, so prevalent in years previous.

The album was produced by Heyward and Geoff Emerick of Beatles fame as George Martin’s engineer on their later albums. The production quality is brilliant with a full orchestra on every track and a good deal of percussion. The vocal harmonies, guitars, bass, drums, piano, organ and other instruments jump out of the speakers with crisp sonic precision to be appreciated across the audio spectrum.

Most importantly, the songs are great. The CD version includes a few extra tracks as noted and as usual, the extra tracks are forgettable with the exception of “Stolen Tears,” a bright tune with fine acoustic guitar work.

Listeners of college radio or English radio in the early 80s may have heard “When It Started to Begin,” “Atlantic Monday” or other tracks but American pop radio listeners surely heard “Whistle Down the Wind,” which cracked Billboard’s top 20 in late 1983. Opening with piano and a droning fret-less bass (Pino Palladino), this breezy tune grows in energy with each measure and finishes with a beautiful orchestral climax. A pop tune with class.

Every other one of the 10 original songs are exceptional although “The Day It Rained Forever,” the last song on the original album, always made me hit the stop button on my turntable. Speaking of which, I still have the original vinyl LP in mint condition and a good turntable with an Ortofon cartridge and it sounds much better than the CD, which sounds fine. I realize not everyone wants to bother with all the old stuff but the LP does sound better. That’s another story for another day.

As for the songs, “Atlantic Monday” and “When It Started To Begin” are so good and so high energy that one could only wish they were playing in that band, if only as a percussionist or background vocalist. “Blue Hat For a Blue Day” has a wonderful organ part providing the base for a lead vocal and the song contains one of the sweetest refrains imaginable. Mandolin and accordion are featured with a sentimental violin, marimba, saxophones and the fretless bass carrying the rhythm.

It doesn’t get much better than this. As with many of the albums’ tracks, guitar virtuoso Tim Renwick plays guitar (and mandolin) on Blue Hat. As for the words, one might decipher the meaning of the song by the title but I’ve always been too consumed with the sounds to bother. Doesn’t sound like it was recorded on a blue day.

“Club Boy At Sea” is spectacular in its subtle build to a climax with an irresistible rhythm guitar throughout backed by an aggressive orchestral arrangement and yet another outstanding lead vocal performance. What club he’s talking about, who the boy is or what sea he is sailing I don’t care. I’m too consumed with the performances. Just listen to the last two minutes of the song and you won’t care either.

“Two Make It True” and “On a Sunday” are classics themselves – Sunday for the great spoken verse-in-rhythm at the end and True for quality guitar tracks and a fine bass/guitar/percussion break near the end.

“The Kick of Love” is a jazz tune featuring Spanish guitar with piano. It faces stiff competition with the rest of the tracks on the album, which means it’s only a very good song.

Heyward plays guitars on most if not all of the tracks but Renwick takes ordinary parts and makes them spectacular, as he’s always done (See Al Stewart, Allan Parsons, Gilbert O’Sullivan and others).

“Atlantic Monday” and “The Day it Rained Forever” were recorded live in studio, and the album was recorded and mixed at Air Studios and Abbey Road Studios in London, and is undeniably English. Orchestral arrangements are credited to Andrew Powell and Paul Buckmaster and Heyward is credited with the brass arrangements. He wrote all of the songs.

Nothing about this album seems contrived other than creating great tracks. Nick Heyward, Geoff Emerick and everyone else involved should be as proud of making it as I am for having found it so long ago. One of the best albums in the last 20 years if I’m keeping score. I give it four stars out of five. If you like the Style Council or XTC you may like this. Spend the money.

P.S. If I give five stars we’re talking Abbey Road, Pet Sounds, Dark Side of the Moon and a select few in that stratosphere.

Copyright 2009

First song: Very nice.
Rest of the album: OK.

Donald Fagen’s new album Morph The Cat, released in March of 2006 provides good listening pleasure to those expecting great- things from the Steely Dan mastermind. Not exactly The Royal Scam but a good listen during dinner or at a cool party.

The title track opens the album telling the story of a “vast, ghostly cat-thing” floating over New York City, according to the brief synopsis seen at the head of each of the printed lyrics on the disk’s liner notes. It’s hard to tell at first where the song is going, melodically, until the chorus kicks in for the first time. When it does, it’s a breath of fresh air featuring classic Fagen vocal harmonies mixing male and female voices.

Here Comes the H Gang

Who the “H Gang” is I’ll never know but they must have been something else. I’ve always felt out of the loop trying to decipher Fagen lyrics. It’s as if he was a friend who snuck away to parties and illicit meetings that I wasn’t privy to. I bet I’m not the only one who feels that way but I bet I’m one of the few who admit it.

This is another breezy jazzy song with the vocal harmonies reminiscent of The Nightfly album. Great dinner music. I wouldn’t say that the harmonies harken back to the 1950s, as has been stated of The Nightfly, but I would say they harken back to Steely Dan of the 1970s. You might call that a copout on my part and I might agree but I don’t want to manufacture influences that aren’t attributable. Where’s Donald Fagen when a journalist needs him and what is this “H” he speaks of?

What I Do

Safe enough to say that Ray Charles is the influence here. That’s what I say and it’s what Donald do. Great backing vocals from Amy Helm, Carolyn Leonhart and Cindy Mizelle along with Mr. Fagen. Sweet sentiment to a sweet source and nicely done. I’ve always thought Fagen was a white, jazz influenced Ray Charles with a Berklee education as well as an arranger and an engineer. That’s not a stretch is it?

Brite Nitegown

In the album’s liner notes, Fagen refers to a W.C. Fields quote likening death as “the fellow in the bright nightgown.” He goes on to explain that “each verse is a different encounter with the fellow.” I assume he speaks of Death and not W.C. Fields, although it may be on us to make that distinction. Decadent party references abound with each verse, the last one ending with:

I’m sittin’ on the rug gettin’ a victory hug,
from the fella in the brite Brite Nitegown.

There are no typos here and I’m thinking to myself I gotta hang out with Fagen one of these days before I meet the fella in the Brite Nitegown.

The Great Pagoda of Funn

No, it’s not a dish on the menu and I don’t typically associate a pagoda (a temple or sacred building, typically with a pyramid-like tower), as a place for fun but I’m not Donald Fagen. As he states in the liner notes, the song is about “lovers attempt to shut out the harsh realities of life.”

It all works as only Fagen can make it but the tune is forgettable. Where is Walter Becker, Wayne Shorter and Steve Gadd when you need them.

Security Joan

Joan is not a Pinkerton, she is an airport security checkpoint representative, waving a wand and checking the X-Ray machine and Donald has the hots for her. Here are the closing lines:

Honey you know I ain’t no terrorist,
Confiscate my shoes-my cell phone
You know I love-love-love you
Security Joan.

What ever happened to the days when he was longing for “Rose Darling,” “Josie” or even “‘Hey Nineteen?’” Aside from that, melodically this song leads me down a path to nowhere for six-plus minutes. Great dinner music again and I’m ashamed to say that’s all it does for me because the production is so good.

The Night Belongs to Mona

Same song as the previous one only shorter with a longer title and a better name and subject.

Mary Shut the Garden Door

I always thought gardens had gates and not doors but this is Donald Fagen’s world we live in and I want to live in that world. Good track but not a memorable one.

The album is a bit mechanical, which is par for the course with Fagen/Steely Dan but the tunes are not what they were back in the day, which is my sentiment for most albums in the last 20 years.

Morph the Cat is as polished as can be and we wouldn’t expect anything less from Mr. Fagen. It’s not exactly The Nightly but it wants to be, with a much more modern sensibility. As good the musicians are, they don’t have a lot of room to roam, and we don’t hear the sweet sonic tones of the instruments like we did on Aja or countless other albums, but then I guess I’m a little stuck in the past. I sometimes wish Mr. Fagen was too.

(This review was written in 2006 and originally published on Bob Deakin’s blog site.)

Copyright 2009

Brian Wilson's What I Really Want For Christmas was released in 2005.

I know what you’re thinking: This guy’s a Brian Wilson freak and now I have to read his syrupy review of one of his latest albums, a Christmas album nonetheless.

Well I am indeed a major Wilson fan but my fanaticism is based in reality and more so, the 1960s and 70s. Brian Wilson in 2005 is about as far removed from the old Beach Boys as the Space Shuttle is from Apollo 11. As with the Shuttle, the new Brian Wilson sound is a lot brighter and more technologically advanced but doesn’t go as far or to any new places.

What I Really Want for Christmas was released in October 2005 and is mostly new recordings of Christmas classics, a couple old re-recorded Beach Boys Christmas songs and three new Wilson compositions.

As for the new songs, “On Christmas Day” was recorded a couple years ago and released via Wilson’s website. The song is one of two on this album I really like. Nice guitar-driven melody with a familiar background chord progression that harkens back to some of the Beach Boys vocal arrangements of the late 1970s when Carl Wilson was handling Brian’s role when Brian was still in bed. It features Brian’s new style of lead vocal in recent years, farther up in the mix and sounding a tad like Bill Murray’s character from Caddy shack. The voice still sounds good even if he sounds petrified to be singing in front of himself in the vocal booth. Some of the background falsettos are left to other vocalists doing their best Brian, which isn’t fooling me or anyone.

“Christmasey” is the best new track. Great track, in fact. I’d always wondered how you spell that word and now I know. It’s not exactly “Oh Holy Night” but it grows on me the more I listen to it and the lyrics are by Jimmy Webb and pretty clever. It has the trademark Wilson ensemble of style changes throughout, which gives me comfort in knowing he still has it as a songwriter and singer. Best new Christmas song I’ve heard in years.

Temple blocks, tympani, strings, acoustic and electric guitars, multi-layered vocals and even a harmonica solo make for a good listen in this tune. What is more annoying than anything, however, is that he used another vocalist for the falsetto echo of his line at the end of the song. The singer sounds vaguely like him but I hope the intent wasn’t to fool anyone. That one line left me feeling cheated even though the song was wonderful. I could have done a better impersonation myself. I know he could have nailed the notes himself. I guess I’m just kind of pissed, in a selfish way.

Ah, whatever. Is anything sacred anymore? I don’t remember Sinatra using any ghost vocalists. “On Christmas Day” is the other tune worth a listen. Very nice heartfelt melody if you can hear it through the mix, which makes it sound like it was recorded in a giant coffee can. It features his disturbing lead vocal in which he wants to go falsetto but hesitates.

When you’re in your 60s I can understand but he does use his falsetto on the album in spots and still seems to have it. Perfect example of the other vocalists who aren’t Brian not sounding like Brian. Couldn’t they have called Alan Jardine, Bruce Johnston or Mike Love? What better time for a reunion than the holidays?

The title track is also nice with rich overlays in the mix, surprising mood changes and a delicate sound with lyrics penned by Bernie Taupin, which is cool. As with all of the songs there is a distinct fatigue factor common to new Wilson recordings since he got off the couch and began recording again in 1988. Everyone knows Wilson is partially deaf in one ear but obviously that made no difference in the 60s and early 70s. Whether it does now I don’t know for sure but the songs are EQd up so much in the higher frequencies it is at times physically painful if you turn it up too loud.

My guess is that no one is willing to tell the legend that his final mix is way too tinny and abrasive out of fear of setting him off. Who wants to give Brian Wilson a bad vibration?

What I really wanted for Christmas was a good new Brian Wilson album. Maybe I’ll get one next year but it’s wonderful that he’s still making music. It is still a thrill to unwrap a new work from Brian. All I want is a little more warmth of the sun.

(This review was written in 2005 and originally published on Bob Deakin’s blog site.)

Copyright 2009