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Sure, making a list is something of a gimmick,
but given the opportunity, most of will dig in and start listing
at the slightest suggestion. So it as, after twenty years of "folk"
music broadcasting that I cast my memory back and have culled my
favorite albums from the last two decades. I started with a list
of about 200. I've listened to a lot of music in the last 20 years
- and I've heard a lot of great albums. But these, listed here,
are the ones I would request be played on the elevator to the afterlife.
There is no assigned order. No number one album. No statistical
evidence that one has been played more than another. I love these
albums for a lot of reasons that will continue to share with you
over the next couple of months.
Rory McLeod - Footsteps and Heartbeats
(Cooking Vinyl)
Rory McLeod is a wandering minstrel of enormous talent. He's literally
traveled the world from his home in England, and filtered all his
influences into songs and stories that are as rich in detail, as
they are memorable in melody. "Footsteps and Heartbeats" was released
in 1989. It is a mélange of blues, West African rhythms, mariachi,
and English folk and dance hall styles. McLeod's history as a "one-man
band" leaks through in his pyrotechnic guitar and harp stylings.
And whether he's describing love "I want to kiss till I forget who
I am," or political injustice "Between the big thief and the little
thief, it's the big thief rules the land, with one hand, he puts
a penny in the pot for the poor, and with the other another and
a hundred more," he writes with the voice of the common man and
woman in his head. Rory lives with his wife Aimee Leonard (formerly
bodhran player for Anam) and his son Solly in Scotland. "Footsteps
and Heartbeats" along with all of Rory's great albums are available
at his website (rorymcleod.com),
where you can learn much more about the man and his music. And while
we had him visit for a concert several years back, it's been too
long since he's visited.
Randy Newman - Land of Dreams (Reprise)
In my mind, Randy Newman ranks in the pantheon of great American
songwriters. He absorbed all that came before him in song artistry,
and to it, added the sensibilities of one who group up in the era
of rock and roll. What results is a man who can write a song as
sublimely beautiful as "Marie" or one as absurd as "Davy the Fat
Boy" (neither of which is on this particular album). Newman was
born into a musical family. Uncles Emil, Lionel and Alfred were
recognized film composers, as are his cousins Thomas and David.
While Randy began his career as a pop songwriter (one of his first
recorded songs was covered by Connecticut's Gene Pitney), but might
be best known for his film scores (The Natural, Ragtime, Toy Story
and Monster's Inc - for which he won an Oscar). He also received
a lot of notoriety for his hit single, "Short People." "Land of
Dreams," by his own admittance, is Newman's first intentionally
autobiographical album. It combines mixed-up recollections of his
childhood visits to his mother's home in New Orleans, and a song
about his first day of school ("Four Eyes"). It ranges from the
political "Roll With the Punches" which uses his trademark technique
of an unreliable narrator (or dramatic monologue - if you're a reader
of Robert Browning), to the parody rap of "Masterman and Baby J"
(which I think may also be a parody of Christianity!) "Land of Dreams"
is not my favorite Randy Newman album (that would be "Sail Away"
or "Good Old Boys") but it is my favorite Randy Newman album of
the past twenty years. You can read about Randy at randynewman.com,
and this record is still available from the original label.
Cindy Lee Berryhill - Whose Gonna Save
the World?
I remember first hearing Cindy's song, "Damn I Wish I Was a Man"
on a wild Los Angeles compilation called "Radio Tokyo Tapes, Volume
3" (which also featured great cuts from The Balancing Act, The Knitters,
Henry Rollins and the Minutemen). So when Rhino Records first began
releasing original material, and not just the re-releases and compilations
they are so famous for, I was pleased that Cindy Lee Berryhill was
amongst the first artists to have a collection produced. "Whose
Gonna Save the World" was an eye-opener, at the time it was released
in 1987, and returning to it now, it's evident that what was revolutionary
then, has aged well. Though she's a child of California, who grew
up listening to Buck and Merle, Cindy was living in New York City
at the time of the album's release and was one of the founders of
the anti-folk movement. I was never quite sure what they were rebelling
against, since folk music has always been an underdog (though I
know Cindy and the group never liked the folk-kitsch of the Washington
Squares, and it was a time that the major labels were courting the
likes of Suzanne Vega, Shawn Colvin and Tracy Chapman), but it's
clear that they were melding punk and folk aesthetics, and the result
was edgy, wonderful acoustic music, not unlike the kind Woody Guthrie
might have made if he were alive in NYC in 1987. The title cut is
an autobiographical worry about inheriting the fate of the globe.
And "Whatever Works" seems to be a whimsical treatise on the anti-folk
movement itself. And while "This Administration" was written in
scorn for the Reagan crowd, it could be sung, almost verbatim about
Mr. Danger himself, George Bush, and his cronies. Cindy released
a few other wonderful albums (Naked Movie Star, Straight Out of
Marysville, Garage Orchestra), and now lives in a suburb of San
Diego with her husband and son. She teaches guitar, plays out occasionally,
and has recorded a new album with her band The Wigbillies, that
she's shopping around. You can find a bit about Cindy at her website
(cindyleeberryhill.com),
where you can hear her new single "When Did Jesus Become a Republican?"
but you won't find "Whose Gonna Save the World?" there. Shamefully,
it's no longer part of the Rhino catalogue, but Rhino did release
a CD version for a short time, and your best to find it is a used
music site on the web.
Dick Gaughan - A Different Kind of
Love Song (Appleseed)
The title, and the title song say it all. Gaughan composed this
album, as he says in notes on his excellent, newly-revised website
(dickgaughan.co.uk)
because, "It was quite clearly time to stop reporting and start
participating." As a Scot born of an Irish fiddler father, Gaughan
had forged a strong career performing music of the Gaels, both Scots
and Irish, and had achieved great acclaim for his work with the
Boys of the Lough and previous solo album Handful Of Earth. But
this was the time of Reagan and Thatcher, and it was both the height
and the end of the Cold War. It's a political album, and while much
has changed in the world (explicit references to the Communist scare
seem dated), much of the core of the album's ideal is so true that
the songs reflect, frighteningly, accurately upon our current world
situation. The title cut is a response by Gaughan to those who would
have him sing love songs. He explains, that his songs of protest,
are, indeed love songs, of a different kind. This album contains
a number of amazing originals (including the title cut), some astonishing
interpretations of songs by Leon Rosselson (the strangely au courant
"Stand Up for Judas"), a revealing re-take of Joe South's "The Games
People Play," and a political triptych of Oswald Andrae's "Prisoner
562," Peggy Seeger's "Song of Choice" and Ewan MacColl's "Father's
Song," which can still raise gooseflesh in its power. I encourage
you to read Gaughan's own notes on the songs, and to explore his
just released, "Lucky For Some," on Greentrax. "A Different Kind
of Love Song" is available in the U.S. on the superb Appleseed label
(appleseedrec.com).
Robbie Fulks - Let's Kill Saturday
Night (Geffen)
Consider what happens when someone of immense musical talent and
unbending artistic integrity makes their major-label debut. Compromise,
comes to mind. Sellout? Eternal aesthetic damnation? Robbie Fulks
had a couple of choices. After two superb retro-country, post-ironic
triumphs like "Country Love Songs," and "South Mouth" from whence
came such classics as "She Took a Lot of Pills and Died," and (for
Nashville), "Fuck This Town," he could have stayed the course and
been pigeon-holed forever in the consumer's mind as a hip hillbilly.
Or he could have succumbed to commercial pressure, and become the
nineties version of, say, Kenny Loggins. Instead, he chose to produce
the album himself (despite the fact that he had worked successfully
with Steve Albini who was known for his work with the Pixies and
Nirvana) and released "Let's Kill Saturday Night," which demonstrates
Robbie's ability to morph from the above-referenced genius hick,
to a soulful balladeer, to a brainy punk rocker, and back to a throwback
county renegade. This ability to bounce, chimera-like, betwixt styles,
cursed the album. Longtime fans mourned the loss of the insurgent
country sound. New listeners couldn't figure out what Fulks was
up to. Faux-intellectual critics whined about its lack of organic
energy, and lambasted its "slickness." And store clerks couldn't
figure out where to file it. It was doubly cursed when the Geffen
label disappeared in the midst of a merger and the "marginal" artists
were flung hither and yon. I think it's an amazing album. It's haunted
me for eight years. I want to poke holes in the roof of my car with
my fists when I hear the title cut and the brilliant "Little King,"
I can't resist the swagger of "You Shouldn't Have," or the searing
pain of "Pretty Little Poison." And "Stone River" makes me cry,
every time. Fulks is a show-off lyricist, who is always on the money.
Can you think of another album that contain even one of these words:
auto de fe, Pleistocene, truckled)? And while I love many of his
other releases, this one showcases Fulk's brilliance as a songwriter,
producer and performer who cannot be easily delineated by facile
labels. While Geffen no longer exists to distribute this work of
genius, you can find it in used record shops, and the equivalent
websites. Robbie's latest album, "Georgia Hard" is on Yep Roc. His
own website is robbiefulks.com.
Steve Earle - Train A Comin' (Winter
Harvest/E-squared)
I saw Steve Earle perform at the Iron Horse about a year before
his descent into what he once described as "a four year vacation
in the ghetto" and what was, in fact, a serious drug addiction that
eventually landed him in jail. That night, I stood in line next
to Shawn Colvin, who was dying to hear him. He was a wreck. Barely
said a word to the audience. Shrugged his way through a set of songs,
stripping them of their greatness with a ragged delivery, and a
mindless thump of thumb on his hollow body, serving as an annoying
percussion track to his lack of passion for the songs we, in the
audience, cared so much about. So the news of his inevitable incarceration,
a few years later, was no big surprise. The big surprise was the
album he delivered upon his release. Earle had burned a lot of bridges
in Nashville, and it was unlikely that anyone was going to front
the money needed to produce and distribute an album for someone
who was so unreliable (and yet undeniably talented). But the folks
at Winter Harvest recognized his artistic greatness, and the need
to revive a career he'd left smoldering. Earle's guitars were hanging
in pawn shops all over Nashville, and he was missing a few teeth
when he appeared in the studio with an incredible set of session
men (Peter Rowan, Norman Blake, Roy Huskey, Jr., and some backing
vocals by Emmylou Harris, to record the album which would restore
his artistic integrity. "Train A Comin," recorded live in the studio,
with acoustic instruments reveals the talent, fire and brilliance
of Earle, and his songs. Several of the songs here had been floating
around the repertoire for years, ("The Mercenary Song" and "Tom
Ame's Prayer") but others, like "South Nashville Blues" spoke directly
to the recent hardships Earle had suffered. Along with these originals
are a few amazing covers of the Beatle's "I'm Looking Through You,"
and the great pre-reggae hit, "Rivers of Babylon." "Train A Comin'"
is now available (in Earle's original sequencing), on Earle's Warner
Brothers imprint, E-Squared. Of course, we all know where Earle
is these days, married again (seventh time, this time to Alison
Moorer), touring this summer with a bluegrass band (measuring his
curse words from the stage), and protesting just about everything
he finds injustice in (listen to his latest great album, "The Revolution
Starts…Now" and find out more about Steve at steveearle.com).
Lucinda Williams - Lucinda Williams
(Rough Trade/Koch)
Though many of us consider this the "first" Lucinda Williams
album, it was really her third, as we soon found out when this one
took off, and her first two recordings (on Smithsonian Folkways
- the first, a collection of folk, traditional and blues, and the
second, her first collection of originals) were re-released for
the coattail effect. For many of us it was the first time we heard
the soulful, bluesy, beautiful voice of Lucinda Williams. Or the
first time we paid attention. And we couldn't get enough. I originally
owned this album on vinyl, released, as it was, in 1988, that year
when none of us could decide whether to spend the $300 on a CD player.
The album was released by Rough Trade, more famous for their British
punk and post-punk releases (in the end a good place for Lucinda),
and from start to finish, this album is a searing, gorgeous, soulful
affair. Producer Gurf Morlix helped Williams integrate a meaner
edge to her previously acoustic approach, and the flame he lit is
in evidence from the longing-fuelled opener "I Just Want To See
You So Bad," through the duel tributes to Southern (read Louisiana)
life, "Big Red Sun Blues" and "Crescent City," (played often on
post-Katrina airwaves), to the strong-willed, strong-woman demands
of William's first "hit" "Passionate Kisses." The CD re-release,
a decade after the original appeared, featured several live cuts
of Williams' originals, and some classic blues, initially released
as an EP by Rough Trade. These live cuts leave Williams' indelible
mark on blues like "He Asked Me For Water," and opened our ears
to the haunting pain of songs like "Side of the Road," and "Something
About What Happens When We Talk." Of course, Williams has released
several amazing, and successful albums since, and earned a reputation
as something of a recording prima dona, and a live performer of
power, but occasional instability (those of you who saw her at the
Warner in Torrington will attest to that). All CD versions of "Lucinda
Williams" are out of print, and have become collector's item. Be
prepared to pay well beyond the retail price to acquire a copy.
Her latest album is a live recording which reveals the passion of
those performances. She has a website, of course, lucindawilliams.com,
and she owes the world a new record this year.
Billy Bragg & Wilco - Mermaid Avenue
(Electra)
You probably know the story of this album. Nora Guthrie, Woody's
daughter, and director of his archives, had a pile of Woody's song
lyrics without melodies. She heard Billy Bragg's music and decided
he was just the musician to bring them back to life as songs. For
his part, Bragg, not a little nervous about his role as Woody's
collaborator, and a bit reluctant as a Brit to be held solely responsible
for such an American treasure, enlisted one of his favorite American
bands, Wilco, to help. The rest, as they say, is history. "Mermaid
Avenue," is proof of Woody's greatness as a lyricist, though the
album swings from inane ("Walt Whitman's Niece") to the silly ("Hoodoo
Voodoo") to the simple and lovely ("One By One"). In the end, though
they performed together on several cuts, Bragg and the boys from
Wilco did not have a totally congenial aesthetic journey. As the
documentary ("Man In the Sand") aptly demonstrates. Because of the
raw feeling engendered by the writing and recording process, the
anticipated Mermaid Avenue tour of Billy Bragg and Wilco never materialized.
Billy Bragg and Wilco met on stage once to perform material from
the album, at the Fleadh on Randall's Island in NYC (you can see
the performance in "Man In the Sand"), and I feel lucky to have
been there. All musicians seemed to be enjoying the performance.
Bragg went out with his band the Blokes with a Mermaid Avenue tour,
and both Bragg and Wilco have continued to play numbers from the
album in live sets. So much of the Guthrie material was recorded
that a second volume of Mermaid Avenue tunes was released. By the
way, Mermaid Avenue was the street where the Guthrie family lived
on Coney Island. Internet access to the musicians is at billybragg.co.uk
and wilcoworld.net.
Michael Fracasso - Love and Trust (Dejadisc)
Driving of a family vacation through the Northern California foothills
on stomach churning switchbacks, I was somehow able to tear my hands
from the steering wheel to scan the signals making it to the car
stereo, when a lovely male tenor voice filled the car. After the
first song finished, the next began, and on the music went on, song
by song, through what appeared to be an entire album. The songs
were folky and leaned toward old country western themes, and the
voice seemed to make vague references to Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison.
When the last song faded, the first song began again. And the next
day when we piled into the car, we found the station, and the album
was still playing. By the end of the day we were able to sing some
of the choruses, but we had no idea who the artist was. Nor could
we figure out what station we were listening to. It turns out, that
the station was a new one, broadcasting a single CD over and over
to "reserve" the bandwith on the airwaves. The album, and the voice,
and the songs haunted me. I'd find myself singing, "the thing about
you…" and "Wake up, George…" and being totally frustrated that I
didn't know the artist's name, nor could I find any information
(this was way before the days of Google, or any other search engines
for that matter). About a year later, a sample copy of a magazine
I was writing for arrived in the mail. It was one of the first magazines
to include a CD. I popped the CD into the player, and heard that
voice, and one of the songs from that trip. As you have by now guessed,
it was Michael Fracasso, and the album was "Love and Trust." It
wasn't the first recording Fracasso had ever made, but it was the
first since his arrival in Austin. Fracasso, originally from Ohio,
had spent time on the singer-songwriter scene in the East Village
(in fact, one of his earliest recordings is on the Cornelia Street
Co-op album released years before). "Love and Trust" was his debut
as a Texas singer-songwriter. His live performances in the "Live
Music Capital of the World" had captivated the town, and he was
one of the first artists to be chosen to record for Austin's now-defunct
Dejadisc. Fracasso's songs are equal parts fragility and magic.
They soar and swoop and do all the things good songs should, referencing
everything from Flannery O'Connor ("Wise Blood") to Let's Make A
Deal ("Door Number Three") and parsing heartbreak, love and death.
Some of the songs from the album were recently re-released on a
very worthwhile "Retrospective" (Texas Music Group), at the same
time Fracasso's latest "World In A Drop of Water" was released.
Find out more at michaelfracasso.com.
Keep listening to the show, Wednesday mornings
6am to 9am
as I keep presenting my top picks. Happy listening!
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