* So it's Box of vibes day again, today we share Box 15, I (Reb) open the box with my selections, tracks 1 to 8, then comes Andy's selections from 9 to 16 and Concha closes the Box with her tracks 17 to 24 *
* As always a mix of genres, alternative versions and cover versions, hopefully you will discover a new artist/band you like and investigate their back catalogues, if there is something you can't find, as long as you login to google or add your name to your comments here on vibes you can request albums from us. Either via a comment or drop the site an email 4vibessite(at)proton.me, just swap (at) with @ *
2001 - Various Artists - The Goldwax Story, Vol. 1 @320
The Memphis '60s soul label Goldwax is most known for its lengthy series of singles (many of them R&B hits) with James Carr, but also recorded several other artists during the decade. Three of the 24 tracks on this anthology belong to Carr, including his most famous song, "The Dark End of the Street." Otherwise, though, most of these names will draw blanks, except for O.V. Wright (who did just one single for the label) and Timmy Thomas (whose jazzy 1967 organ instrumental, "Liquid Mood," with some scat singing, preceded his big vocal hit "Why Can't We Live Together" by five years). Deep Southern soul fans will enjoy this release mightily, as it has so many of the stocks-in-trade of Southern soul in general and Memphis soul in particular: tight soul backup, urgent, pleading vocals, and a leaning toward slow, emotional balladry in the songwriting (with some up-tempo tunes thrown in). It isn't, though, on the same level as the somewhat similar and much more famous soul being done in the same town at the same time at Stax Records. The vocalists are too often derivative of Otis Redding and Sam Cooke; the Ovations' Louis Williams sounds like a Sam Cooke clone, so close are his vocals and so obvious is his role model. The George half of George & Greer, heard on their lighthearted, up-tempo 1966 single "You Didn't Know It, But You Had Me," was well-known songwriter George Jackson. For some variety, you get the instrumental "Here It Is Now" by Gene (Bowlegs) Miller, which strongly recalls the work of Stax instrumental groups Booker T. & the MG's and the Mar-Keys. The Lyrics' "Darling," the first Goldwax release in 1964, is the most doo wop-indebted cut, with some ludicrously over-the-top crying at the cut's outset. (AllMusic)
Gram Parsons - 2006 - The Complete Reprise Sessions @320
I'll start with the obvious reissue questions. First, regarding availability, Gram Parsons' two solo albums, GP (1972) and Grievous Angel (1973), have long been combined on one CD for less than half the price of this 3xCD set. Nevertheless, the upgrade is worthwhile: The songs have been remastered for this reissue, and the packaging is greatly improved, with miniature cardboard LP sleeves for the discs and new liners by Holly George-Warren and Parke Puterbaugh-- although the latter's interpretation of "Return of the Grievous Angel" seems questionable.
Regarding bonus material, The Complete Reprise Sessions includes a wealth of extra tracks, including alternate takes and demos as well as a radio spot advertising GP and several interviews with Parsons. On the one hand, these interviews are excellent complements to the music: hearing him speak, despite his stoned cadence, is much more revealing than reading transcripts in the liners. But for some reason, the producers-- Emmylou Harris and John Austin-- have placed some of these bonus tracks at the end of the two proper albums, where they completely disrupt the flow of the songs and the finality of the records. Grievous Angel ought to fade into meaningful silence after "In My Hour of Darkness", as handsome a eulogy as anyone ever wrote for himself. Instead, that short silence is interrupted by an instrumental version of "Return of the Grievous Angel", which sounds like a karaoke track, followed by an interview clip.
The position of the bonus material is a legitimate complaint, but its bearing on the music ultimately is minimal. It's doubtful that even the most harebrained sequencing could ruin these songs. Drenched in pedal steel, GP reveals its demons gradually, especially on Parsons originals like "Still Feeling Blue" and the elegiac "A Song for You", which exhibit a mastery of melody that few other country rockers can approach. "Kiss the Children" and "How Much I've Lied" are broken-family songs that couldn't sound any more convincing out of George Jones' mouth. As he often did, Parsons romanticizes the country life on songs like "She" and "Streets of Baltimore", but it's touching rather than overly sentimental. He comes across as a confused kid looking for answers in country music's clear-cut morals, in its absolute distinctions between sin and virtue. Biographically and psychologically, country music may have been a substitute for Parsons' own tragic family life. As a result, GP sounds like a heartfelt album that truly fears damnation but locates a precarious redemption in every note.
Grievous Angel might actually be better. That title could be Parsons' CB handle, and the album has the picaresque pace of a travelogue, from the trucker's lament of "Return of the Grievous Angel" to the godspeed prayer of "In My Hour of Darkness". In this context the fake "live" medley of the Louvin Brothers' "Cash on the Barrelhead" and the Byrds' "Hickory Wind" (which Parsons co-wrote) makes perfect sense. By that point, his life was mostly tours and travel, and this transience is reflected in the unsettled lyrics. He dives into autobiography on "Brass Buttons", which Puterbaugh asserts is about Parsons' alcoholic mother, and "$1000 Wedding", about an actual event in his life. "Love Hurts" is a superlative duet with Harris, their voices melding sensuously and dramatically, and "In My Hour of Darkness" drives a big rig off into the sunset, with Parsons lamenting the deaths of three friends and asking the lord for safety and wisdom.
Parsons might just as well be singing about himself on that song. He died of a drug overdose before Grievous Angel was released, so "In My Hour of Darkness" was his final bow. Given all the impenetrable myths that have built up around him, it seems important to emphasize this song as a finale, which is why the tacked-on bonus tracks hurt so much. They would have been less intrusive on the third disc, which is comprised solely of newly unearthed outtakes and a few rare tracks from the 1976 compilation Sleepless Nights. This disc has no flow to interrupt and no cohesion to break, but that doesn't mean these songs aren't worthwhile. In addition to rougher versions of "Return of the Grievous Angel" and "We'll Sweep Out the Ashes in the Morning" and revved-up takes on "Ooh Las Vegas" and "I Can't Dance", Parsons and the band inject a little boogie into the last bars of "She" and "Still Feeling Blue", without losing any of their gravity. And Parsons' cover of the Louvin Brothers' "The Angels Rejoiced Last Night", in addition to seeming semiautobiographical, would have been perfectly at home on Grievous Angel.
These are ostensibly the last Parsons gems left to unearth. Maybe there are more, but it seems unlikely-- at least of this high quality. So maybe it's best that there are a few flaws in The Complete Reprise Sessions. The placement of these interviews will have to be remedied on another set, and revisiting these songs in the future will certainly be something to look forward to. (Pitchfork)
