joni mitchell and the l.a. express' miles of aisles

Found a CD of Miles of Aisles amongst various stuff in the box room a few weeks ago and it finally made its way to the car (where so many CDs go to die, I guess) alongside its longterm companions an Albert Ayler CD and the Raoul Graf CD largely written by and produced by Ed Kuepper. 

Anyway, unlike you and your various pals, I have not much time for JM's first - say - five years as a recording artist, although that said, I adore Live at Canterbury House 1967, so perhaps it's not the songs so much as the approach and the production that bother me, that and, fuck Blue. I mean the reason I say fuck Blue is less about Blue anyway and more about the emotional environment I was in when exposed to liberal helpings of Blue, and by that I do not mean I was depressed, more like, oppressed. I don't want to go into it. Same reason I think I can't ever listen to Karen Dalton (different scenario though). 

So, having written all that down I realise the stupidity of it. But you know, those early JM records are twee, and I've just heard them too often in idiotic commercial radio environments or in some cases, I've heard the songs done better (The Supremes' amazing version of 'All I Want' for instance). 

But that's all redundant, because, this is a sensational record. It came out between Court and Spark and The Hissing of the Summer Lawns and it sounds like those records much more than the earlier albums. That's primarily I suppose because of the L.A. Express - this LP is kind of the middle instalment of a triumvirate of albums made with that band and utilising its particular flavour - although that said half the record is JM on her own, so yeah nah maybe.

Anyway, I could not imagine any other way that I could be induced to listen to, and in fact enjoy, stuff like 'Woodstock' and 'Big Yellow Taxi' but than with the radical rearrangement that allowed L. A. Express to do their bit. Of course back in 1974 these songs weren't super-old classic rock, so it might not have seemed so imperative to vibe them up or for that matter there might be have been fewer people offended by a radical redo. You can hear people in the audience calling out for things though. There's only one song from C&S on this record - which is fair and reasonable, given that it wasn't even a year old - but the concentration is on older material. 

Court and Spark came out in January 1974 (and was a big success) and these songs were mainly recorded in August that year (a couple in March). So the crowd knew what JM's new material sounded like, and were presumably into it, and were in some way or another primed for the new sound. 

I couldn't find any reviews of the August shows recorded for the album, but I found this, which is refreshingly stupid in many ways, and reminds one of the good old days when it was OK to be stupid.

 

discord and rhyme and court and spark and ollie olsen

 

I don't have a lot of time tonight and I only want to say a couple of things, one is trivial and the other is not trivial, so it seems trivialising of one to put it with the other, but also, a blog is just a diary of things that happen, isn't it. 

So for the last few days I have been listening to this podcast Discord and Rhyme's long discussion of Court and Spark. It's not necessarily my favourite JM album (possibly Hejira is or maybe, Don Juan's Reckless Daughter - but tbh I could listen to any one of those three with no wincing at any time, so....). The weird thing about listening to people prognosticate about Court and Spark for me is that that album is so ubiquitous - I reckon I first heard it 45 years ago if not more and I know it very, very intimately, to the degree that I can't really critically judge it - if anything, it shaped me. There are lines in there that taught me about ways of thinking (no, I'm not going to quote anything, that would look soft) every bit as much as anything I read in a book by George Orwell. Who I was probably also reading voraciously when I was ten, how ridiculous. 

The D&R peeps are a bit hard to get a handle on but there are a lot of them and they come together in different configurations to discuss LPs. They generally have a ridiculous affection for prog particularly, get this, the Moody Blues (!!!) and other trash like Yes or, I don't know, Pink Floyd. But they do have some insights. In this case though the most amazing bit for me was the naysayer of the gang, who clearly did not like the album at all, was very new to it, and kept saying that he couldn't retain any of the songs in his head after he heard them. I mean, I'm able to summon this music up in my head any moment of the day, so that is of course bizarre to me, but of course it's not wrong, it's just hard to imagine. So, I suppose the weird part for me is to try and think of there being people who never heard C&S from a young age and then all through their lives, and yet who otherwise present as rational souls with an understanding of the human world (ok, ok I'm overstating it). (The real revelation for me is how much C&S has meant to me most of my life). 

The other thing, which the above potentially trivialises though not intentionally, is that Ollie Olsen died today. It's a real shame, not unexpected though, he was apparently in a bad way for some time. I had a great fondness for Ollie though I only met him once. That was a pleasant interaction though. He was a very important figure in my life in many ways and, of course, produced some incredible music. Not much more to say. 

old-fashioned

 

I have no idea why I decided to read this book but I actually found it pretty readable in a way. However what really surprises me about it is its inherent sexism. It's ten years old (published 2011) and yet it seems as antiquated in its gender politics as the year it's 'about'. So interesting in that regard. So, basically, Browne puts a lot of interesting links (aside from: they were all massive and 'edgy' believe it or not acts of the year 1970, as western culture grappled with what the new decade was going to look like) sharing various backing musicians, managers, and being compared to each other (CSNY was regarded by many as the New Beatles apparently, as bizarre as that may seem now). Pleasingly to me with my historian's hat on, Browne generally resists telling us what happened after 1970, so basically if you know, you know but essentially someone could have written this book in 1970, it doesn't go far beyond, and even makes little insider references eg Art Garfunkel ends the year looking forward to an acting career, lol good luck mug. 

But also, we have the weirdest take on the times where Joni Mitchell is everywhere in Taylor's and CSNY's lives, and Carole King is a big part of Taylor's, and Rita Coolidge is yoko-ing CSNY (entirely in their own minds) but these women's actual careers are basically apartheided out of the story, happening in some kind of weird parallel universe. At very least, JM's a huge part of 1970, clearly, since she (for instance) gives Taylor's career a big fat boost and provides CSNY with a massive eternal hit in that (awful) Woodstock song. I would also say that seriously, while this is a story of 1970 and not a story of what came after it - except implicitly - Mitchell's 1970s were a hell of a lot more interesting than most of the people who are the subject of this book. I was surprised, for instance, to discover how much Stephen Stills was the Lindsey Buckingham of CSNY because tbf his subsequent fifty years of career have been kind of, well, less exciting than he or anyone might have hoped. Stills wrote some decent songs but Mitchell is basically a giant who the rest of these dudes barely match in ambition and scope - McCartney the obvious contender but even then, McCartney hasn't gone out on a limb in terms of threatening his own commerciality. 

So I guess essentially Browne was like hey, I've found a few connections in some classic rock stars, 'I want to write about the guys I want to write about. Some of them even dicked the same sheilas!' and Da Capo press were like cool Brownie. But I reckon even he would have to concede you couldn't write a book like this today, and perhaps also, there's a certain dishonesty to relegating the women of equal commercial and innovative status to homemaking duties? 

the catch

I can't remember why, over fifteen years ago, I purchased all three Dave McArtney and the Pink Flamingos albums from Alley Tunes at Glenferrie Road Station for probably a dollar each. They were all promo copies, so they had clearly come from The Collection Of Someone In The Record Industry Of The 1970s-80s. I had the dimmest awareness of DMcA but I loved Dragon and Paul Hewson was a member of the PFs for a couple of albums. Alley Tunes was mainly non-rock/pop, more dance oriented, but this was good because it meant they greatly undervalued some of the other junk that got mixed up in their second hand accumulations, and when I say undervalued, I don't mean they weren't aware, I don't know if they were or not, but I'm guessing they didn't care. So thus began a bit of a low-key love affair with the work of Dave McArtney, mainly via the second Pink Flamingoes ('Flamingo's' - ugh) album We Never Close although the first one, a little more transition-y from 70s rock into 80s pop, was a goody too. 

Anyway sometimes I really am this dumb, or picky, or I don't know what you'd call it, but yes I had all three albums. Really, really liked the first one, loved the second one, and never played the third one, above, until yesterday. Now, I have no excuse for this, but somewhere in my mind I feel it had something to do with the notion that it wasn't as good as the others, that it was one of those contractual obligation records; the kindest I can be to myself is that possibly I feared it would be the key to the first two, and would make me realise they actually weren't as good as I thought they were (also it didn't have Paul Hewson on it; he was back with Dragon by that stage). You know where this is leading though, don't you.

Well, look, I've only played side one. But side one, while clearly not a 'band' - it's heavily synthesised, with either basic programmed drums or someone effectively playing drums like a basic drum program, very simple, almost eurodisco in various ways, is really fun. It's definitely of its time but amusingly if it was released now by someone currently young or at very least active (and not, for instance, dead like Dave McArtney) it would be celebrated for its upbeat tunefulness and inventiveness. Hey, maybe side two is absolutely the big one, and turns all the other stuff (including the excellent Hello Sailor - what a band) into dust and turds, so maybe I'll wait another 15 years to check that out. 

McArtney had almost completely nothing to say about this album, by the way. It is mentioned on p. 244 of his memoir Gutter Black as 'my solo album'. The rest of that paragraph is very non-fascinating detail about the licensing details regarding the album, but nothing about its content or creation. The facing page features a big picture of the album cover where it is captioned as 'the third Flamingos album'. I suppose it was the very tail end of McArtney's ambition to get to the big time outside NZ, using Australia as a stepping stone (though unlike Dragon, who he/the PFs might be seen to be following not least by having Hewson as a member, DMcA had already had a bizarre stint in LA with Hello Sailor, so he'd come close to the big time then failed). (That sentence probably doesn't make much sense but on the other hand who in the world will ever read this? No-one! So I think I should spend some time tidying up the spare room and listening to the amazing Joni Mitchell 1967 live record Laura gave me for Christmas). (That said, this is another sad example of my drivelling meander no doubt getting up there as one of the internet's most informative and valid discussions of a particular cultural product some people once slaved over and had great hopes for and put their passion into, and which no-one now cares about at all really, but if anyone does go searching for information on this record, they will find this, so I guess I'll just say: sorry). 

supremes monday

So as of Saturday (when it came in the mail, a little package from Germany if you know what I mean) in-between my copy of Super Sounds of Happening '71 and the Sweet Whirl album on the shelf generally exists* a really grody copy of The Supremes Produced and Arranged by Jimmy Webb, in a sleeve that doesn't just look like but actually was shat on by a bird, and it's so scratched particularly around the perimeter i.e. track 1 of each side that I think it's possible the record was used as the wheel on a go-kart. Look, if I'm dumb enough to spend up on vinyl at a time when its price generally speaking is overinflated and its value as a medium has been overtaken long ago by digital formats, then I'm dumb enough to enjoy this shitified version of a beautiful pop record. I've long loved the work of Jimmy Webb (put aside the bit in Sally Field's book where he has sex with her in a situation where she cannot say with certainty that consent was sought or granted - that's not the kind of work I'm talking about anyway) and I want to have more experience of the Supremes after Diana R. Diana R. is amazing, I love Diana R., but she wasn't the Supremes. Maybe, even though she replaced Diana R., Jean Terrell was really the heart and soul of the Supremes (this was her last album with them). Maybe the Supremes in the 70s is going to be my jam for the last few weeks/months/years of lockdown! Hey, maybe! I gather that they got more disco after this record and, well, I love disco and I love the Supremes so that would probably be peaches and cream/cheerleaders and team/kettle and steam/torch and beam/Willy Wonka and meme - level greatness. 

The Webb songs on this album are wonderful (nothing tremendously famous to me except the totally fucking superb 'I Keep it Hid' which was on his demos album from the 60s)** but there's also a sensational version of Joni Mitchell's 'All I Want' that pins it to a whole different rhythm/sensibility. The song 'Beyond Myself' could have fit on that wonderful, Webberific Fifth Dimension Magic Garden album which remains a frequent fave. Look, everyone's working at their peak. Apparently it wasn't much of a hit, which just goes to show, this just in, people can be dicks. 

*Not as I am writing this, it's out and on the turntable baby

** Which is really great, regardless of what is conveyed by the wikipedia entry about it.