So, so you think you can tell, when you've heard enough of a song? Well I encourage you to give this version another spin. It is an original recording of "Wish You Were Here" from 1976 and it is totally different than the released version. What makes it particularly amazing is the violin solo improvised by the legendary Stepane Grappelli, who just happened to be recording in the next studio, invited in by the Floyd for an impromptu take. To give you some background Grappelli played with guitarist Django Reinhardt as far back as the 1930's when jazz music was in it's infancy (more on him to come).
Unfortunately this is another recording which didn't see the light of day until (as far as I know) the recent release of the Experience box set, some 35 odd years later. This version is heart-wrenching, but it must not have fit with what Pinky and the Floyd were going for on this album. The 68-year-old Grappelli had not even heard the song (and probably the band) before, yet his performance is absolutely gripping. Just another magnificent crossroads of musicians.
Here's a not-too well known Sublime tune, recorded for the their self-titled album released in '96. This was actually their third and last album, atypical of eponymous album titles, which usually mark a debut.
However, it never made it onto this album and wasn't even put out as a single as planned because "Sublime" exceeded expectations and launched the band into infamy. That album was released two months after lead singer Brad Nowell's death, so that he was never able to see the far-reaching success of the band. However, the fame they had achieved even up until that point had been affecting Brad, and it is conveyed in this song. Other than Notorious B.I.G., I can't think of another artist that was only able to see two albums put out but make such a long-standing impact. Kind of ironic that the song about fame was cut from the album that went 5x Platinum, where every song has radio play.
This guy is magic. Really has a huge mixing of sound and a wide range. Found
out he borrowed the idea behind the lyrics for this song when my Itunes shuffled onto
Jimmy Reed's "Bright Lights Big City". Speaking of Magic, I've
recently stumbled into the urethra of blues and have had the virtuoso
guitarist/singer Magic Sam on repeat. Was linked to him after listening to his younger friend and student Magic Slim, who has a more classic Chicago blues sound to him. The sheer rawness, the natural skill at an instrument still in its infancy for this purpose is astounding- and he could sing his heart out. Even the other musicians look at each other like they are Marvin Berry listening to Marty McFly play
Here's some Bo Diddley originals. Hit play now and read on
Bo was a pioneer of rock from Mississippi who was an usher in the transition of blues elements to our favorite bands, the Who, the Stones, The Doors, Zeppelin, The Beatles and artists like Hendrix, Elvis, Buddy Holly. Robert Plant called him a "royal shapeshifter." Until recently I couldn't tell you what he did because he didn't have many charted singles, but yet his music is everywhere.
It's a classic example of the trampled underdog; he was sheisted by the
record companies, never directly recognized but ripped off by everyone,
the man even invented a beat! It shows how actual influence is sometimes untraceable when we just look at the most famous people today. So if you consider widespread, groundbreaking, but generally unattributed success, then Bo Diddley is one of the most important and successful musicians. Yet his name is most recognizable today as that of Obama's dog (Obama is a blues fan).
"I don't like to copy anybody. Everybody tries to do what I do, update
it. I don't have any idols I copy. They copied everything I did,
upgraded it, messed it up. It seems nobody can come up with their own
thing, they have to put a little bit of Bo Diddley there."
Although not portrayed by Oliver Stone's brutally fictitious account of the band, the Doors' sound and particularly Jim Morrison's vocal style were majorly blues-inspired. In 1967 they played at The Matrix where at least half of their set were covers. They just went farther in their own direction and the blues core became less visible. Below is their version of "Who Do You Love," which sounds like something Jim wrote himself.
Back when classic blues were still being called "jungle music," Bo Diddley was the first African American to appear on the Ed Sullivan show and subsequently banned for not playing the song that they requested him to, instead playing his eponymous hit. Coincidentally, Morrison infuriated Sullivan 12 years later in similar fashion when he promised and then refused to omit the word "higher" while playing Light My Fire live, and they too were banned. Only, that performance had already lifted them off them off the ground and they wouldn't need Sullivan again.
And here's Bo himself with "Before You Accuse Me," made famous by Clapton.
This song's no stranger to anyone. It was a landmark in the history of Motown. Originally recorded by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, it was the Marvin Gaye version that was reluctantly released that became the most famous, created a star, and spawned his own genre, dubbed 'psychedelic soul'. This was after it had already become the best-selling Motown song by Gladys Knight and the Pips at basically the same time. There's a lot more to it, but my goal is not to reiterate the Wikipedia entry and I suggest you check it out yourself if you're particularly interested. What I love about the song other than the rugged, soulful vocals is that it is upbeat while the lyrics describe a tragic breakdown of a relationship. Creedence Clearwater Revival revived it in 1970 with this rockin version on Cosmo's Factory, signifying the incorporation of psychedelic soul with southern rock. The eerieness and winding unease really rings out in the guitar. Whether you have 3 minutes or 11 minutes this version is worth a listen. After the radio-cut point, you can hear that CCR was in fact, an amazingly powerful band and not just some hillbilly hit makers. In fact, the whole Cosmo's Factory album is great.
This might be the most important song in rock and roll. Originally improvised by Ray Charles' band at a show in 1958, the song acted as a seed for the most influential groups in transforming rock; the Beatles, the Stones, the Beach Boys, etc. It's been covered by everyone from Nancy Sinatra to Johnny Cash, but it's origin is definitively Ray Charles, and he closed every concert with it for the rest of his career.
Being too young to know any of this, I was mystified by this version by John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers with Clapton. It sounded strangely familiar, and then it even rips right into the riff from Daytripper (another monumental song). So who is the real owner of that riff? Apparently the unique guitar lick is attributed to Lennon, who came up with the song with Paul while they were working on Rubber Soul in 1965, one year before the release of the Bluesbreakers' album. Seeing as Day Tripper was not a hit until 1966 though, is it possible that it could have been reached the ears of Eric Clapton, who was already personal friends with the Beatles, and been pilfered before that song was pressed? Regardless, I love this version and it got me farther into the blues and its intertwining history. The song, the album, and this band have epic connections to the world of rock. Stay tuned
Danny Michel might be Canada's own Jack Johnson. Generally mellow and drawing on influence from Paul Simon, he's got some catchy tunes, but I think he's capable of rocking out even more eventually
