Central Reservation - Beth Orton

Track list:

1. Stolen Car
2. Sweetest Decline
3. Couldn't Cause Me Harm
4. So Much More
5. Pass In Time
6. Central Reservation
7. Stars All Seem to Weep
8. Love Like Laughter
9. Blood Red River
10. Devil Song
11. Feel To Believe
12. Central Reservation (The Then Again Version)

Running time: 58 minutes
Released: 1999

I used to have a giant poster of this album cover - a freebie from a gig attended in Bristol whilst a student. I used to really, really like Beth Orton's music - hence being at the gig in the first place - but I found that affinity dwindling with each album after this one, and looking back before starting this playing, I think I probably wouldn't miss it if I were to cut all albums of hers except Trailer Park (which I definitely would still miss) from my collection. That said, I am sure there are tracks in here, and on her later works, that are worth my time, so lets spend some time with her now.

I remember the primary acoustic melody of Stolen Car, but not the more haunting elements of the intro and the lonely electric guitar. As I hear it now it all floods back, and I find I still really like the song. Form filling has been put off again today; painting instead. Tomorrow is the last day of the holiday, and I now have a fair chuck of things stacked up to do... how much like everyday life. Orton sings "don't you wish you knew better by now..." - yes, yes I do. I work better with deadlines though...

I have been in a strange mood today, spontaneously dancing to the shuffle earlier whilst doing other things - very unlike me. I am now into my second glass of white (my sop to New Year yesterday, left over to this evening) and forcing myself into the mindset for a post. The guitars on Stolen Car really do sound mournful, wistful, longing. I approve, as the acoustic line cycles a pleasant hook that contrasts nicely. There is a very distinct change of tone with the next track which is far more laid back. You wouldn't know from the playing alone, but I am reminded that the pianist on Sweetest Decline is Dr John. This is a world away from his New Orleans blues, a mellow jaunt. It sounds and feels a little overdone somehow - like that mellowness is being striven for slightly too hard rather than coming naturally. I think this sense comes from overproduction and slightly too much going on in the arrangement. Bongos, strings, piano almost competing. It would be better without the unnecessary percussion I think, but it could also happily lose the strings and pare down to Orton's slightly unusual voice and the melodic piano.

Snacking on flapjacks at this time of the evening probably isn't wise; they don't go that well with the wine for a start.

There are some nice elements here, but since Stolen Car finished it has never been more than "nice" - which is to damn with faint praise. I wonder if, perhaps, in another mood I would more easily overlook things that currently are slapping me around the face. The depth of production is a mile away from the last thing I listened too with its multiple layers and rich sounds and I find myself pining for the simple and genuine sounds of James Yorkston's record. Whilst Beth Orton has worked with some electronic music folks over the years, I am moved to suggest her solo material benefits most from a more minimalist approach. She has an interesting voice, one with an edge to it and a hint of dis-tunefulness and real emotion, pairing that with a simple guitar melody offers the chance to show it off more. 

I start suddenly; I am feeling cold though the room is at temperature (I've upped the thermostat now though) and it has not been that cold outside over the new year. Maybe there is a draught. I need to fashion an early night tonight and... oh carp; just remembered what I have forgotten to do today. Time for a brief interlude.

Fault corrected I resume with Pass in Time - which runs 7 minutes in length. This album is made up of longer than average tunes, there's only one below 4 minutes and the average is almost five. I think that is counting against it a little in this listen. I am not convinced these songs need to be drawn out as much as they are - and it is the first half that are longer. Ooh! Hey, that is the late lamented Terry Callier on backing, with his utterly brilliant and soulful voice. He can lift this track just by humming at the right points. That I love how he and Orton synergise (remember Best Bit) can't disguise that it is stretched past the necessary though. After the song finally closes, we hit the title track, and this does give Orton's voice the room to be the star. Soft programming and sparse bass create a crucible for a rather fragile-sounding song and I find myself smiling, enjoying it again. It suffers a bit more from the over-tinkering with arrangements as it progresses but it never gets too busy to detract from the central song.

I remember being young and angry and stupid and penning a diatribe to a radio station for playing some horrid electro-mix of this song instead of the album version once. The mix concerned was tripe, stripped out all the space that is what makes this work. Fragility needs the right support, and here the vocal really needs that openness. I am still angry and stupid, but far less young these days; I don't write to radio stations because I don't listen to them (except for sports) and I refuse to engage with Twitter or Facebook which seem to be the only modes of feedback these days. Ugh - try making a really cogent argument in 140 characters. That said, this long form pretty much debunks my ability to make cogent arguments in any medium. Oh well. I have been enjoying some good criticism of late - catching up on Errant Signal, which dissects videogames nicely in ways that I find fascinating. YouTube is becoming a more regular form of entertainment than TV for me now, even though I am pretty set in my ways and not one to over-subscribe or jump on bandwagons.

Back to the music. A series of tracks that flood back into my memory as they play have come and largely gone. I like the familiarity, but I am not over-sold on the specifics. I don't find any of them hard to listen to, or actively distasteful, but equally I do not find myself moved to comment on anything about the tunes either. I close my eyes and try to immerse myself in Blood Red River to form a more communicable opinion but it sort of slides off around me. I don't know if that says more about me or the music. I am slightly more taken with the opening of Devil Song where primacy is given to a simple voice/guitar combination. The form of the guitar work here appeals to me far more than the song itself. I like the crucible it creates, the timbre and the framing.

Feel to Believe is a pleasant surprise. I recognise it once it starts, but the name meant nothing. It has a more upbeat tone to it and that feels a little overdue somehow. There is a touch of awkwardness between one of the choruses and the next verse - the tune loses its structure and tempo and falls into limbo a bit before pulling it around by returning to the tone that was set at the start. Orton's voice sounds strained and emotional here - it adds an undercurrent to the piece that I appreciate even as it sounds less tuneful than on many of the other tracks.  I think I have a thing for unorthodox voices.

We end with a mix of Central Reservation which starts to fill in the spaces around the vocal more - electric pacing elements are introduced as percussion, the beat is rather annoying and distracting, but the song actually works with the higher pace. I prefer the more sparse version earlier on the disc by far, but the verses and choruses do actually fit well enough in the busier environment created for them here. I actually find myself more attracted to the words in this context, but the voice in the previous one. Odd dichotomy that. The disc ends horribly with a fade out rather than a proper ending, leaving me to consider the whole. There is no doubt that for me it doesn't stand up to the love I once had for it, that in places it is over-produced, over-long or otherwise disappointing. But there is also magic buried in here - a couple of complete tracks, or just moments or movements within others. I could axe it and not miss much, but I really wouldn't mind hearing just about any of these tunes again.

The Beginning and the End - Clifford Brown

Track list:

1. I Come from Jamaica
2. Ida Red
3. Walkin'
4. Night in Tunisia
5. Donna Lee

Running time: 34 minutes
Released: 1973

This came in a big box of jazz albums that I picked up as a collection relatively recently - the same box that saw me acquire 8:30 by Weather Report. I am not at all familiar with his work as I go into this one.

The disc is made up of two short pieces and two epics with the closing track somewhere in between. The two shorties up first. I come from Jamaica surprises my by being a song; I was expecting instrumental jazz going by the cover. Despite Armstrong, I do not associate trumpeters with singing. It is a raucous number, short and not overly sweet. The second track is also a song, but I was ready for it this time. It has a pleasantly familiar cadence (a word I might start over-using, it's been in my head so much of late). I think I realise why its familiar... Dr John's medley including My Indian Red on Trippin' Live. Clearly this is just a rewording or alternate lyric - probably more PC, though I doubt that was an issue in nineteen seventy-three.

Now for the two long tracks. The first is more what I was expecting to hear. Fairly traditional jazz sounds with an emphasis on the trumpet. It is fairly high tempo, not racing along but not a sedentary number. A couple of solos come and go. There is a bustle in the background of the track... whether that is a recording artefact from the good old days or, no - the applause confirms it is a live audience. You can hear the hubbub of folks chatting. This is interesting because you might think it would detract from the tune and I guess in a way it does seeing as I am straining to listen to it. However it works for the recording, giving it a sense of atmosphere akin to actually being out and about. The tune itself meanders back and forth, keeping up the pace, giving everyone a turn - have I mentioned before that I dislike the "mandatory solo"? I think I have, but I really do - in a very stereotypical way. It never elevates to the point of being arresting, but neither does it sink to disappointing.

However it does get a bit stale; 11 minutes is a long time to keep one piece going without any pause or slow down. I think it is the uniform pace that gets to me most, and I am glad when it finally comes to a close. The next track is only a shade shorter and picks up a very similar rhythm. The initial impression is of a more interesting composition this time but I am afraid that I find that sitting like this concentrating on the music is not a good fit for this type of jazz. Sure, I pick up things like the nicely dirty squeeze that underlies the main melody in places, a real sleaze about it, which I would miss in a busier situation, but I find that I want a drink, darkness and bustle, a conversation to concentrate on, and to just pick out the best refrains out of the mix. Night in Tunisia gives the impression of some of that until the piano solo which kills the mood; the track has lived on the brass and dropping both trumpet and sax to give space to the keys completely changes the complexion of the track. After Walkin' I thought I would be all for any type of change, but in fact it rips the heart out of things, and even when the horns come back... the energy, the sense of presence have been lost a little and the tune is poorer for it.

The final number races into things at a million miles an hour. Tempo is definitely up here, and it was not slow on the previous pieces. I can imagine this was an energetic performance to witness. The leading trumpet is slightly squeaky - as if notes are being pinched off because the track rocks onwards so fast. I do not get the impression of Brown as being virtuoso, but more of him being a showman, someone who lived for the stage. Of course that could all be guff; can't really tell anything like that, but it is funny how our minds give us ideas beyond those we could reasonably expect to get.

I am not that taken with Donna Lee - too fast, too garbled for it; more about sheer weight of notes rather than the quality of those notes. As such it is a little overwhelming and so underwhelming. It feels like a mess on record, but was probably amazing to see performed. As it comes to an end - rather catching me by surprise, the pace having made seven minutes fly past in what seemed like seconds I don't know what to make of this disc. Donna can go for sure, Night in Tunisia is a keeper even with the drop off at the tail. The other three follow Donna Lee out the door too. Walkin' had its moments, but 11 minutes of the same moments repeated is too much, and as for the two songs, I was lukewarm on the first, and have a more preferred version of the second. Disappointed, but not too much so. You are bound to get a dud or two in a big box of varieties.

Anutha Zone - Dr John

Track list:

1. Zonata
2. Ki Ya Gris Gris
3. Voices In My Head
4. Hello God
5. John Gris
6. Party Hellfire
7. I Don't Wanna Know
8. Anutha Zone
9. I Like Ki Yoka
10. The Olive Tree
11. Soulful Warrior
12. The Stroke
13. Sweet Home New Orleans

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 1998

I think this was the second or third Dr John album I bought - but the first one that was newly released after I knew about him. I can hear several of the tracks in my mind's ear even now, despite not listening to it a lot in the last decade. Should be a nice one.

There is a good cover of a John Martyn classic, a guest appearance from Paul Weller, guest percussion from Steve Mason and, less excitingly, the main face of Supergrass playing guitar somewhere too - all according to Discogs. The Weller appearances I remembered, the others not so much. To be fair, I did not know who Steve Mason was or why I should like him back in 1998, even if I might have been passingly familiar with The Beta Band by name (another alumnus also appears).

We start with an into, bluesy piano to set the scene, which dies away to yield to a funky, riffy, rhythm. Ki Ya Gris Gris plays on the image of the Night Tripper, the early incarnation of the Dr John persona, more than most of these tracks I think.  It has a soft, slightly muffled vocal, but the percussion, and the high-strung guitar hiding behind it, really take you into the Louisiana swamps, though given the supporting cast of UK musicians...

The ambiance continues into Voices In My Head, a fug hanging over the song; this is the Gaz Coombs number - thankfully he doesn't sing. We then go into two tracks that are much more spoken than sung, stories set to blues, albeit ones with choruses. I am listening now (the second today) because trying to nap this afternoon did not work. Into the second half of Sunday and I still do not feel recovered from the week before; that does not bode well. Tried to motivate myself to get outside and do some overdue garden clearance (dropped leaves and dead heads) but despite the day being unexpectedly bright, the perma-wetness of the ground at this time of year ultimately persuaded me out of it. Late autumn and winter are just so... demotivating.

There is actually more to John Gris than my memory would have said, and actually there is more of a sung lilt to the vocal than I recalled too. It is a dark and moody piece, not easy listening; it has lost a fair bit of the bluesy sounds, but has a swagger to it. I am a little relieved as it ends however, to a much more guitar-driven piece (the first Weller number). The harmonies on the chorus work here, but the one verse could do without mentioning rape (as something never done, but still). The track is not as strong as I remember it and I find myself wanting it to end to hear I Don't Wanna Know. Martyn's version - without the I and colloquial spelling -  is superior (of course!) but here Dr John and Weller combine nicely. It is pretty much a straight cover, with a slightly richer arrangement and less fragility. This was my introduction to the song though and I still like the work done here. The swampy influence comes back in with the title track, big band blues but flavoured by the southern states. There is a majesty to the track, a distance between the base (not bass) and the brass which lends the song a style that sits well with me.

Back in the day, the spiritual heart of this album was towards the end, with The Olive Tree and Soulful Warrior, I wonder how they stand up to modern scrutiny. If the first few bars are anything to go by, quite well in the former case. The percussion is infectious and the thrumming guitar to build the background offset the vocal nicely - again spoken more than sung, a story of the ages. The chorus builds, adds in some simple horns; it is a comfortable pattern that I feel I could relax into (or could, were I not folded over the laptop keyboard). Once established, the song plays out to the pattern, though the second chorus is arranged differently to the first and then annoyingly fades out in a fashion that I have always disliked. Learn to write endings (not always a fair criticism)! Soulful Warrior also stands up nicely. Similarly engaging percussion, and a riff to go with it build our platform again. The pattern only breaks for the choruses and bridges. In another context I might call it boring and repetitive, but here it is used to back up a rich vocal which takes on the task of interesting the listener instead. Comfort tunes indeed.

That applies equally to the final two tracks. It may just be my reawakened familiarity with these songs, or it might be the good doctor's fine penmanship but I get a strong feeling of being wrapped in a blanket and warmed against the closing darkness. I am happy I chose to listen to this now, even if the reasons for that choice were not positive. We close with Sweet Home New Orleans - a richly orchestrated track, keys horns and percussion woven around each other to build the intro, fading for the first verse, then picking up with a slightly different syncopated rhythm. The song just has a really good roll to it, building, fading, combining, swinging and smiling its way through 6 minutes.

Unfortunately it ends the album by fading into nothingness rather than building to the big ending that the tune deserved, but this disappointment does not outweigh the positive sense I got from the album as a whole. I recall this being a favourite after I picked it up, and I could well imagine it making it into the car for accompaniment to commutes to come as a disc worth revisiting.

Afterglow - Dr John

Track List:

1. I Know What I've Got.
2. Gee Baby Ain't I Good To You.
3. I'm Just A Lucky So-And-So.
4. Blue Skies.
5. So Long.
6. New York City Blues.
7. Tell Me You'll Wait For Me.
8. There Must Be A Better World Somewhere.
9. I Still Think About You.
10. I'm Confessin' (That I Love You)

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 1995

Now this is a disc I have not listened to in a long time. A much more mellow collection from a legendary bluesman. 

I got into Dr John after hearing his one line ("Such a perfect day" with perfect pronounce poirfect) from the BBC Children In Need cover of Lou Reed's classic (see below). I knew at that instant that I needed to have more music with that voice. I have accumulated too much Dr John since that point.

I think this was the second album I picked up, after Trippin' Live. It has a very different cadence which I am not sure I appreciated at the time, but I began to more as time went by. My memory says every song on this album is fairly slow tempo, big sound, laid back, chilled. "Afterglow" is an appropriate title.

Certainly the first two tracks fit with my recollection. The pace is fairly plodding, but there is real depth to the jazzy arrangement whilst still giving the good Doctor's voice the space it needs to fill. It is lounge music, expertly performed. It feels odd in the middle of an afternoon, but actually there is a riff of positivity flowing through this record that I feel like I need just now. I don't feel like such a lucky so-and-so right now, other than the fact I can enjoy these tunes.

Blue Skies has a higher tempo than I remembered. It is still a laid back sound though, and I could imagine it as a soundtrack to a corny film scene. I love the song though, nice piano line, simple arrangement, neat vocal, relaxation and positivity. It switches to So Long, which despite being a lamenting goodbye, manages to keep the light, and warm theme of the album going. I feel like I should have a brandy on the go instead of this fruit juice; I feel like I should be in a swish club, low lighting, table lights, smokey atmosphere talking to someone whilst not looking at them in favour of watching the band. I am kinda doing that last part, as I chat with a friend on the 'net about XCOM whilst listening.

This album, though I love it, is probably better as background. It's a mood setter. Yes, there is some craft there, and Dr John's voice could carry the phone book but ultimately its biggest asset is the fire-like glow that it gives your soul - and that does not require your full attention. My favourite track on the record is There Must Be A Better World Somewhere, which has just started. I am surprised to find that this is the only version of the song in my library. I was sure I had another. I find the song stands out from the others on the disc less now than when I first listened to Afterglow when I picked it up though. I think I am appreciating the other songs more, but I also think the track is not quite as good on reflection as I thought before. It is anything but bad though.

Into the home straight on the listen now, and the arrangements are still wrapping me in warmth. Good album for a winter night, curled up. It makes me wish for things that are not, but not mind that they cannot be. It gives more than it takes. There is a real charm here and it just goes to show how effective slow pieces can be for establishing mood. There is none of the immediacy and impact you can get from higher tempo music, just a really strong tone, repeated and enforced that leaves me sad when it comes to a close, but uplifted from a low start.