Next up: Zack, Sunday 21st June
Marcel's notes:
I owe my parents a lot, not least the fact that I grew up in a house where music was always playing. Blue is, apparently, one of the very first albums I was exposed to, so it will always be an important album for me. There are no pyrotechnics, no wizardry - it is stripped down, almost elemental, but constantly moving. You can hear the pain in her voice as she references her failed relationships with Graham Nash and James Taylor, the latter of whom plays guitar on the album. Stephen Stills is also a contributor. It is beautiful, thought-provoking dissection of the various emotions experienced in a relationship, from the infatuation felt in ‘A Case of You’ to the insecurity of ‘This Flight Tonight’. The songwriting is sparse, and simple, with poetic lyrics accompanied by just a piano, guitar and Appalachian dulcimer (akin to the zither or Ancient Greek cithara) and a pervasive sense of tender despair.
In 2000 the NY Times voted Blue as one of the 25 albums in 20th century that represented turning points and pinnacles in popular music.
In 1979 Mitchell said, ‘At that point in my life I had no personal defences. I felt like a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes. I felt I had absolutely no secrets from the world and couldn’t pretend in my life to be strong.’
What this gives us is elegiac verse set to music - where the words of poet go, the music simply follows.
Good explanation of each track here.
Grab yourself a bottle of red wine, a very large glass, turn the music up and dare yourself not to be moved.
Paul's notes:
Released in 1971, Tapestry was described by one influential critic as an album of "surpassing personal-intimacy and musical accomplishment". Some albums have one or two great songs then some fillers. This one has one classic song after another. Side one is great, but side two (after “way over yonder”) is even better. So sit back, relax, put on appropriate lighting, pour an appropriate drink, and enjoy something truly beautiful.
Paddy's notes:
Like most of life's best things, Still Bill hit the streets in May 1972. For much of my life, Bill Withers was simply the punchline to a joke about turning ducks into soul singers in a microwave, but in my mid twenties a friend sent me a mix-tape (yes a cassette, to play in a walkman) of some great - and seriously funky - songs (including We Live in Brooklyn, Baby by Roy Ayers, Funky Nassau by The Beginning of the End and Esther Phillips' Black-Eyed Blues). On that mix-tape too was the Bill Withers track Use Me. There are some songs that make you sit up and listen, and wonder why you've never heard them before. It seemed that everything I'd been listening to before had led to that moment, that song. I listened to it over and over, rewinding to just the right point (using a bic biro when I feared the batteries were fading) and pressing play again.
It was some time later that I bought the album (vinyl, natch) and I was hooked all over again. Lean on Me is well known and loved, but the whole disc is a masterpiece. It's still a mystery why Bill Withers never achieved the fame of other soul singers - in my view he's every bit the equal of Marvin Gaye or Al Green. And, if you get the chance, listen to some of his live recordings: not just a great musician, but a great raconteur too. Enjoy!
Andy's notes:
Harvest is the 4th studio album by Canadian/American (but mainly Canadian) musician Neil Young. Young is an artist who’s storied career is exceptionally diverse, ranging from country, rockabilly, blues and even a brief foray into electronic rock and synthpop.
For many people, several of the most popular tracks on Harvest embody the sound of what first comes to mind when they think of Neil Young. The iconic sound of acoustic guitar and harmonica found in “Heart of Gold” is for many is the defining track of the album (and perhaps Young’s career) which became a US number 1 single. The album itself was the US number 1 seller in 1972. That is not to say that Harvest isn’t diverse, as the album features the London Symphony Orchestra ("A Man Needs a Maid" and "There's a World") as well as noted guests David Crosby, Graham Nash, Linda Ronstadt, Stephen Stills, and James Taylor.
Although critics were not initially altogether favourable upon its release, it is now widely regarded as one of his finest pieces of work. This is however slightly ironic as he spent much of his career trying to escape being defined by the album by diversifying his sound, often much to the chagrin of critics and fans alike. The following quote by Young found in in the liner notes of the compilation album Decade illustrates just this sentiment, “Heart of Gold put me in the middle of the road. Travelling there soon became a bore so I headed for the ditch.”
Joe's notes:
It took me a long time to listen to all the tracks on Grace. Many I loved so much I would play them on repeat. When I did finally listen to the whole album in one go I realised I’d missed the point - the order of the tracks adds another element and is perfectly constructed.
Jeff’s Father Tim ( also a musician) died of a heroin overdose. Jeff’s pain is present in so many of his lyrics - it’s almost impossible not to be moved by his lyrics, which he expresses in an incredible vocal range. His style is said to have heavily influenced many including Matt Bellemy from Muse. Also Jeff isn’t just a voice with poetic lyrics - that boy could shred!
Sadly, Jeff, like his father, developed a heroin habit and one night, high, walked into a lake and drowned aged 30.
It’s also impossible to know what the reputation of Grace would be if Buckley were still alive today. In the years after Buckley’s passing, Grace drew praise from many of his idols: Bob Dylan called Buckley “one of the great songwriters of this decade”; David Bowie once claimed Grace to be among his favourite albums ever made; even Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, whose music Buckley had fallen in love with so long ago, paid their respects. The death of an artist changes the way we see their art as the loss of what we could have had forces us to reevaluate what we do have. There’s no doubt that Buckley wanted his debut album to stand the test of time, and it’s a shame that it’s the only classic he lived to complete. But it speaks to the musician that he could have been — the musician that he was — that Grace has left such a lasting legacy.
Steve's notes:
In choosing tonight's album, I've been wrestling with what the aim of Classic Albums tm is. Again. Are we dusting off things our partners/pets have requested moratorium on? Are we looking to discover more about an artist we only know in passing? Are we looking to build our dinner party eclecticism? Perhaps we just want to play something fucking good and play it loud. It's all of these and more, but it's quite a task to get the balance right.
I've landed on Tom Waits for a number of reasons. Hopefully he ticks all the above boxes. When I first heard him, I'd never heard anyone sound like that. Not in his theatrical growl, in his bizarre rhythms or big band arrangements. He is unique. He can also be quite a challenging listen; certainly not one to mark books to. So, for tonight I have shifted albums. Originally I thought Rain Dogs, as one of his shorter records (50ish mins) and one of the bestselling, was a good place to start. However, for the uninitiated, it doesn't cover all his bases and some tracks are just plain weird. There's a danger of turning one's back before you've really got into it. What I've really enjoyed in this group is when I've given something a proper listen having never bothered before and gone back to it the next day (Carole King, The Streets the two best examples for me).
So tonight, we will give Tom Waits, Bad as Me a whirl. It is his latest album, but still a classic. It fits tonight's billing as a perfect introduction to his repertoire. He claims to write three types of song - "brawlers, bawlers and bastards"- all are present here. Lastly, there are guest appearances from Keith Richards and Flea. Let me know when you notice them.
Zack's notes:
For those who went to school in the 90s, the release of Dookie marked a pivotal moment in the development of alternative rock. Expressing the feelings of middle schoolers everywhere, with numerous subtle (and not so subtle) references to bodily functions, the album was an instant crowd pleaser. However, not all were entirely pleased; as Green Day jumped to the center stage, Johnny R from the Sex Pistols, representing the ‘established’ punk rock scene, remarked:
“So there we are fending off all that and it pisses me off that years later a wank outfit like Green Day hop in and nick all that and attach it to themselves. They didn’t earn their wings to do that and if they were true punk they wouldn’t look anything like they do.”
The simplistic, but raw rhythmic power chord progressions helped me break in my first Strat – fortunately for my ‘housemates' at the time, my cringing early attempts were reasonably muffed from the basement on my bread box sized 'starter’ amp (even when turned up 11).
In a 2001 interview with Rolling Stone, Billie Joe reflects on the initial critical response to Dookie:
It seemed that every article written when Dookie came out contained the word “bratty” or “adolescent.” Did you guys ever feel doomed to an eternal adolescence?
"You can’t do anything about what people’s perceptions are of you. You just have to be comfortable with your own perception of yourself and not give a shit what people say. I love what I do. I love playing music. I love doing it with Mike and Tre. I think we have a great band, and, as long as that doesn’t get skewed, I think we’ve been all right."
Mabs' notes:
This is an album that probably needs no introduction, released in 1987 and still the biggest selling debut album of all time. I didn't grow up in a musical household (despite the Welsh cliches), so I don't have many music memories from then, but I do remember hearing Paradise City on the radio, and listening to it constantly on a cassette single after that. I think it was probably the first 'rock' song that I really liked. Doing some research for this, I read a bit more about GnR, and they really were what they sound like on the album, a bunch of debauched, feral young men, living in the beds of strippers, taking an inordinate amount of drugs and generally not giving a fuck. The opening track is ostensibly about LA, but really you can take it as a Welcome to the Jungle that was Guns and Roses.
The album officially doesn't have an A and B side, but a G, Guns, side, mainly about debauchery and violence, and an R, Roses, side about love and romance. Although, given that the final song, Rocket Queen, merged Slash's solo with the sound of Axl Rose making Steven Adler's girlfriend orgasm, the debauchery never really goes away. Enjoy.
Will's notes:
Growing up in an isolated market town in Lincolnshire was inadequate preparation for a busy university full of middle class kids (mainly, it seemed, from North and West London). I attribute my political awakening to my education and my friends in college. Somehow, though, this album provided the soundtrack to this.
The anthem that is ‘Common People’ would be blared out at club nights, in college rooms and at Labour Club socials. As much as the song lampooned the clueless privileged girl from Greece, I felt that all of us (from all classes, towns and cities) were equally hopeless as we navigated undergraduate life, pretending to be adults.
The entire album reflects the same uneasy clash of cultures I and other working (lower middle?) class friends felt many times at uni. We had the wood-chip walls of ‘Common People’ as well as the furtive and dirty, yet simple, illicit encounters in ‘Pencil Skirt’. Other songs cover the euphoria of finally feeling a part of the new social class you have infiltrated, or the odd dissonance of looking back on what might have happened.
Everyone has tried to be someone more or different to who they are. This album celebrates this in spades, with dignity, humour and affection.
Jack's notes:
I chose this album for three main reasons:
1. I bloody love it.
2. Joe Jordan’s choice of The Streets’ (excellent) Original Pirate Material apparently went down well with the group; this album isn’t similar but if you enjoyed OPM there’s a good chance you’ll enjoy Illmatic.
3. Although I’m sure I will in a future round, in present company choosing a rock (or similar) album feels a bit like bringing a knife to a gun fight.
The significance of my use of that phrase didn’t occur to me until after I’d chosen it. In hip hop music, it’s pretty much a rite of passage for a rapper to have ‘beef’ with another artist, and If you associate yourself with another rapper (more on that later), you, by extension, are considered to have beef with their rivals, and you owe your loyalty to each other (Eminem covers this in his 2005 song Like toy Soldiers, in which he also compares his various rivalries to that of Jay-Z and Nas). Although I would never simplify it thus, hip hop is fuelled by bravado. Clashing with another artist is, therefore, not only highly likely but also helps to establish you. Nas’ feud with Jay-Z was arguably the most extreme of those who lived to tell the tale; in Jay-Z's ‘diss track’ Takeover, ‘it’s like bringing a knife to a gunfight’ is one of the many insults levelled at Nas’ attempt to rival Jay-Z.
I digress. This took place in the early 2000s; Illmatic was released in 1994. I do not claim to be a music expert, but I think it’s hard to overestimate the influence that this album had on the hip hop scene, to the extent that many (including Axel Marinho) refer to it as ‘the Bible’. The album talks of life growing up in Queensbridge (other notable rappers from the housing development include the duo Mobb Deep), the daily struggle of young African Americans, and hopes and dreams. I know, stereotypical stuff in some ways.
But Nas isn’t a stereotype. His father and occasional collaborator is the Jazz musician Olu Dara, and Dara’s influence on his son can be both heard and seen on the album. He plays a cornet solo in Life’s a Bitch, jazz elements can be heard in various other tracks, and the album artwork, a picture that Dara took of the seven-year-old Nas superimposed over a city block, appears to be a nod to the artwork of Thad Jones’ 1974 jazz album A Child is Born (see attached for comparison). For some years I’ve been of the opinion that to make a successful hip hop song, one thing is needed: a good backing beat or good lyrics. To make a good one, or dare I say it, a classic, you need both. This album, in my opinion, is full of the latter. (The theory, I’m sure, can be applied to other genres.)
Speaking of collaborations, I think this album’s lack of them is something else I like about it. A good hip hop collaboration can be brilliant (c/f Nas and Jay-Z’s various collaborations since their beef was resolved), but they can be overdone, and a rapper who relies on them can find themselves drowned out on their own material, something that Nas references in Ether, his brutal response to Takeover (do not listen with your children), taken from the 2001 album Stillmatic: ‘You ass, went from Jaz to hangin' with Kane / To Irv, to B.I.G. – and Eminem murdered you on your own shit’.
I’m digressing again. With the exception of the occasional hook, this is Nas on his own, at his purest and finest, something that he subsequently boasted about in Got Ur Self a Gun, also taken from Stillmatic: ‘My first album had no famous guest appearances / The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist’.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m digressing again. I can’t help it. As you will have worked out by now, these notes are as much about why I love Nas as they are about Illmatic. For that, you’ll have to forgive me. The impression that you’re getting, I hope, is that Nas doesn’t fuck around. He tells it how it is and does what is needed to be done to entertain. And with that, if you please, you’ll permit me my final digression(s). Outside of hip hop, Nas hasn’t achieved the global recognition of artists such as Jay-Z and Eminem, but within the industry, he’s hugely respected. He isn’t interested in appealing to the mass audience, he’s interested in making good hip hop music (c/f his 2006 album Hip Hop is Dead). This can be seen in his live performances as well (I think I’ve seen him five times), which, among other things, I would describe as ‘efficient’ or ‘methodical’. Unlike many rappers, he engages in minimal crowd interaction in between songs, preferring to get on stage and roll through as much of his back catalogue as he can in the time available (not always performing songs in their entirety so as to fit more in). In the alternate universe according to Jack, Nas (preceded by Jay-Z, who can play second fiddle for once) is one of the headline acts on Glastonbury's Pyramid Stage.
If you’ve never really listened to hip hop before and are looking to try another genre, this album is as good a place as any to start. If after listening to this album you decide that hip hop still isn’t for you, well, at least I tried.
Whose world is this? It’s yours.