Monday, December 10, 2018

Double Your Peasure Part Four





Besides the twin behemoths of 'Electric Ladyland' and 'The White Album', there were a few other double albums released in 1968. Two in particular are worth talking about, very different in every aspect. First up is the Incredible String Band, a group that managed to become very influential for a very short time before falling off the face of the planet. They took some of the elements of Donovan and went even farther in that one direction.



Originally a trio of folkies from Scotland, by 1967, when they recorded 'The 5000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion', they were down to a duo, playing a wide variety of instruments and penning all their own material. Managed by the fascinating Joe Boyd, a man who was perpetually knocking on fame and fortune's door yet never entering, yet living to tell the tale in the fabulous book 'White Bicycles' (can't recommend it highly enough, especially if you want to know about the transition from folk to rock), the album became a favorite of the underground in Britain. Similar to Donovan but without any of the pop or jazz leaning and stripped of any outside production or arrangement, today it all sounds a bit twee. It did much to lay the foundation for groups like Fairport Convention, who frankly did the British folk thing infinitely better.



1968 was the banner year for the Incredible String Band, with two albums, including 'Wee Tam & the Big Huge', a double that, again like Donovan, was split into two albums in many markets. By now they were using the studio more, adding electric organ and exotic instruments from all over the world. Sales were good enough, as well as excellent support from Electra Records and folkies like Judie Collins, for them to perform at Woodstock, although you'd never know it from any recorded evidence.



The rot had already set in. Both guys now had their girlfriends in the group in a perfect Spinal Tap move. The real nail in the coffin was converting to Scientology. Trying to negotiate touring the rock circuit while going through bullshit clarification rituals must have made for a very interesting time. By the time they split up in 1974, nobody would talk to any other member of the group. They were, however, an authentic manifestation of the Celtic hippie movement, more so than any rich rock group from the same time period.



The other band that pumped out a double platter in 1968 was the Animals, now called Eric Burdon & the New Animals. The Animals, significantly bigger than the Rolling Stones in the early days of the British Invasion for good reason, were teetering on the edge of extinction. Eric Burdon was a powerhouse of a singer, a true soul man, performing more out of passion than technique. The Animals had a string of massive hit singles through to 1967.



The one thing the Animals couldn't do consistently, however, was write good material. Most of their success came with cover material, from the old spiritual 'House of the Rising Sun' to Nina Simone's 'Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood.' They were a great group, earthy and real at as time when you had to deal with complete phonies like Freddie & the Dreamers or Herman's Hermits. Management was a huge problem, unfortunately, Mike Jeffries robbing them blind while working them to death. They did four (!!!!) world tours in 1964 alone.



The original band broke up in the summer of 1966, their management contract coming to an end. Only Eric stuck around, popular enough to form a new group around himself. He took to the psychedelic lifestyle with a passion, as he did everything, even if he still looked like he was a dock worker. Technically still an English group, they spent more time in California.



Their appearance at the Monterey Pop Festival was pretty good, one of the first times a violin was used in a modern rock context, on a long freak out version of 'Paint it, Black'. The hits could sound incipit, such as 'San Francisco Nights.' although sublime material like 'A Girl Named Sandoz' still came out regularly. They were a singles band, not an album group, and the underground scene was moving towards the long format.



'Winds of Change', wildly psychedelic, was probably their best shot at a coherent album, even if it does contain 'San Francisco Nights'. At least it sounds like it belongs in the hallucinatory stew. 'The Twain Shall Meet' from the next year was more sloppy than transcendent. The years of touring and no payment were starting to wear on Eric and the band, who started going through many personnel changes. It seems like Burdon jumped headfirst into the drug culture as a way to ignore the band crumbling around him.




'Love Is' was the band's swan song, with half the group members new for the double album. Surprisingly, Andy Summers, later to gain great fame as one of the trio in the multi-platinum Police, handles the guitar on this album. Even though you get the feeling that the band is padding out a double album to fulfill a contract obligation, it's still a pleasant enough listen. Nearly every song is stretched out, like the band did when playing live.



The Animals were still a very popular band on the touring circuit, playing all over the world, from Australia to Sweden regularly. Between MGM, the most mobbed up record label of the 1960s, and Mike Jeffries management, they were never going to make any profit. After a disastrous Japanese tour late 1968, unknowingly organized by Yakuza, where their tour manager was kidnapped and help for ransom, they fled the country, leaving behind their instruments. Too bad, a sad ending to a great group.



'Love Is' heavily relies on covers, more contemporary this time, including good versions of 'River Deep, Mountain High' and 'Ring of Fire'. They work better than the originals, although 'Madman (Running through the Fields)', a song brought in by the new members from obscure English group Dandelion's Chariot, is an excellent slice of psychedelic pop. Not a world beater, but a great time waster if you are in the mood.



Eric Burdon would drop out, picking up a black girlfriend and moving to Watts before hooking up with the Latino L.A. band War. He would have his last moment of glory with 'Spill the Wine' a great single. The group's second album would be another double platter, 'The Black Man's Burdon', which is structured quite a bit like 'Love Is'. Both albums are pleasant if sometimes slightly embarrassing. Eric always wore his heart on his sleeve, even if it made him look a fool. That's why I always have a soft spot for him; he was always genuine, damn the consequences. War went on success on their own with a number of excellent singles.



One more double album needs to be discussed, since it's technically not a rock album but was both influenced by contemporary music and was deeply influential in it's own right. Mile Davis was a pillar of the jazz community, one of the three most popular artist in the genre. But jazz didn't make nearly the money that the new rock elite were, and this really burned a hole in Miles' soul. 'Bitch's Brew' was his attempt at combining jazz and rock.



Miles had been a major player in jazz since just after World War Two. From a middle class African American family in St. Louis, he acted like a pimp in his private life, always searching for street credibility. Watching the young punks in the 1960s rock world make more in one concert than he made in a year really put a major bug up his ass. He slowly started adding electric elements to what had been a strictly acoustic band in 1968, with 'In a Silent Way'.


Miles was the first major musician to understand the new musical space opened up by Jimi Hendrix on 'Electric Ladyland'. A sonic landscape full of subtle reverb and delay, Miles kept it cool for the most part, exploring it in a lower volume. For jazz, it was a major revolution; no one had used a studio like this before in the genre, doing extensive post-production. Typical of jazz recording was a single afternoon session, the tracks being put down exactly like they would sound on the record, live in the studio. Often they were mastered in the same day.



Teo Macero, the producer of the sessions, was instrumental in creating that sonic space. Later in life, Miles, bitter at all white people, played down his contributions. Upon closer inspection, the album was created by editing down hours of jam sessions, painstakingly creating compositions of great power out of often rambling pieces. Miles was on the road around the word while this happened. It's no coincidence that Teo was also the producer of 'Take Five' and 'Kind of Blue', the other two biggest selling albums in jazz history.



The list of musicians playing on the album reads like a who's who of fusion; Wayne Shorter, Chick Corea, John McLaughlin, Lenny White, Billy Cobham, Dave Holland, Joe Zawinul, Airto Moriera, Larry Young and Jack DeJohnette. Even the cover by Mati Klarwein was a masterpiece. That list is a who's who of popular jazz for the next decade or two. To call 'Bitch's Brew' seminal in the history of recorded music is an understatement.



It was also very controversial, and remains so to this day. It is not an understatement to say that the jazz community remains divided between those who love 'Bitch's Brew' and those who think it is an abomination before God. The very electric 'Acid Jazz' nature of the recording was against the traditional ethos of the music, and many critics as well as fellow performers were revolted. Rock audiences loved it, especially overseas, where Miles was a major figure, especially in Europe and Japan.



Frank Zappa once said, "Jazz is not dead, it just smells funny." While fusion ruled the 1970s, with groups like Return to Forever, Weather Report, and the Mahavishnu Orchestra emerging directly from the 'Bitch's Brew' sessions, in the 1980s the tide turned back to traditional jazz. Musically, it was over for innovation in the genre, a return to safety and comfort. That wasn't what jazz was supposed to be, but it is what it has become, a safe middle class cultural cocoon.




Miles kept churning out funk inspired jazz albums for another six years to a diminishing audience before going into retirement for five years. He was never the same again, his glory days gone. But his mark on jazz is that of the last great innovator, and his greatest achievement is 'Bitch's Brew', whether the critics like it or not. Personally, I love the album, and I love the follow up, the even more rock-inspired 'Jack Johnson', even more. Viva la revolution!




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