Okay, I'm about to say something that I've never said to another living soul, and certainly not to another living rock critic, for what will be obvious reasons.
Ahem.
I do not now care, and have never particularly cared, for Van Morrison's Astral Weeks.
Okay, there I've said it.
Which, of course, given the album's status as pretty much the holiest bovine in the entire rock album canon, is more or less akin to confessing you were glad the Greek colonels overthrew King Constantine.
And lest you think I'm just being difficult, or trying to generate some sort of blog-hit controversy, I'm not. I don't dislike the album; it simply doesn't talk to me. Maybe it's genetic, I dunno, but I just find it a little dull. Sue me.
I bring all this up because the other day -- having some more than usual time on my hands -- I finally got around to listening to an album called Tax Free that I've been meaning to check out for ages. And therein lies a tale.
Longtime readers are aware of my fondness for a Dutch 60s beat group called The Outsiders (not to be confused with the American greaser outfit of the same name and era who hit it big with "Time Won't Let Me.")
The Dutch Outsiders never had any of their music released in this country, but they were pretty big in Europe and they've developed a cult following in recent years; some folks claim they're the best 60s band for whom English was not their first language, and while I won't go that far, they were pretty damn good. Maybe not world class, but definitely worth hearing in that sort of Stones/Pretty Things snarling r&b derived rock style that was all the rage back then.
In any case, Tax Free was the band Outsiders singer Wally Tax formed after the breakup of that bunch, and unlike the rest of his previous oeuvre, their eponymous elpee was actually released -- albeit to a largely uncaring public -- in the US of A.
What I didn't know until recently is that Tax Free's eponymous album has often been compared to Astral Weeks, presumably because it's produced by Lewis Merenstein (who produced AW), it features Richard Davis (who did similar duty on AW) on upright bass, it's in the same pastoral more or less acoustic quasi-jazz style as AW, and because it, like AW, makes me very, very sleepy.
Have I mentioned that John Cale plays viola on the album?
Anyhowever, all of this is a very roundabout way of setting up a Compare and Contrast that may prove edifying.
So...from 1965, it's the angry young Them (featuring Van Morrison) and "I Can Only Give You Everything"...
...and from 1968, it's the not so angry Van Morrison (from Astral Weeks) and "Cypress Avenue."
Meanwhile, from 1967, here are the savage young Outsiders (featuring Wally Tax) and "Story 16"...
...and from 1970, here are the far more genteel Tax Free (featuring Wally Tax) and "Along the Shadowed Quay."
And so the question is -- do either of those pairings strike you guys as some kind of musical evolution/progression? Or at least one worth writing home about?
Because what I hear in both cases -- and yes, obviously I'm exaggerating to make a point -- is more like a failure of nerve.
Not meant as a compliment, obviously.
6 comments:
It's possible to love both. I like it raw and I like it tender. I like it impulsive and I like it reflective.
Your comparisons of the two acts and how they evolved is valid. But I don't agree with your conclusions.
I loved Astral Weeks since they started playing it on FM in late 1968. It's stunning. You picked a good song. Seeing Van do that live was intense back when it was young and fresh.
Also, you coulda picked a better, more concise, track from the Outsiders. "Touch," perhaps? The Tax Free album was something I took a chance on at Aron's. It was in the 33 cent bin back in the day so I didn't have much to lose. I always liked it. At the time I didn't know that this Tax guy was in a, not always snarly, R&B band.
Astral Weeks and Tax Free are really good records when you're in the mood. Try some Romilar, as not directed, a half hour before you cue it up and, when you listen, pour a giant snifter or goblet of brandy. Perhaps some Nepalese temple balls if you're so inclined. You might get the picture then:)
Talking about Dutch groups, how do you feel about the Motions? From what I've heard, I like them.
Forward into the past,
VR
"I Can Only Give You Everything" & "Story 16" are alcohol fueled while "Cypress Avenue" & "Along the Shadowed Quay." are driven by canabis. There lies the difference of musical orientation.
Captain Al speaking from youthful personal experience!
By the way how is canabis spelled?
Speaking of the name "Outsiders" brings me to a Tampa "Outsiders" band from the '60's.
They were great... did a lot of covers extremely well. Stones, Yardbirds, etc.
Then Cleveland's Outsiders started making noise and Tampa's bunch had to change their name.
Tampa's went with "Soul Trippers". Radio programmers thought they were an R&B group.
Absolutely killed them.
P.S. Allan, doesn't matter how you spell it.... just don't spill it.
Astral Weeks joins Trout Mask Replica on the list of 'All Time Greats' that I've never ever gotten into, even with occasional revisits to see if I was 'ready' for them at last. I don't get Beyonce, either, even tho she's written of as The Second Coming. Luckily, there's plenty o' other stuff out there to enjoy, unencumbered of expectations and the grand consensus of yon pooh-bahs.
C in California
Like you, Steve, I don't hate AW, but never got all the hype. I have to be in the right mood to listen to it, and I'm just very rarely in that mood. I much prefer Them, and Brown Eyed Girl, and Moondance, and Tupelo Honey.
Marc
I’ve never listened to AW either, but I like the song you picked - Cypress Avenue. Reminds me a little of maybe my favorite Van Morrison song, Saint Dominic’s Preview, which IMO is soulful and beautiful and very moving. And I love Them as well, and ICOGYE is one of their best. But “failure of nerve”? Sometimes you need loud and sneering and garage; and sometimes you need quiet, introspective, and melancholy. Sometimes you can get those in the same piece of music; witness the first and third movements of Beethoven’s so-called “Moonlight” sonata. Was it a failure of nerve to write a slow, languid, subtle movement to start, then conclude with one of the most thunderous and furious pieces ever set down for solo piano? I don’t see it. And I don’t see it in Van the Man either.
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