Fred Neil — Felicity
from Sessions (1967)
Nothing better than sitting at the window on a rainy day, listening to Fred Neil…
Mike Absalom — Interflora Angel
from Save the Last Gherkin for Me! (1968)
Was checking out the recently launched John Peel’s Record Shelf yesterday. Phenomenal collection of stuff, really easy to get lost among his stacks and stacks of vinyl! Here’s one of the tracks from the ‘A’ shelf… a tune by Brit folkie Mike Absalom. Whole album streaming here.
Ana y Jaime — Jerusalem
from Es Largo El Camino (1968)
This album is a magical masterpiece of psychedelic folk, from Colombian brother and sister duo Ana y Jaime Valencia Aristizábal. They recorded this when they were just 15 and 17 years old, respectively. Ponder that as you listen to the killer fuzz guitar on this track…
Gypsy Blood — Wasurekaketa Kotoba (Forgotten Words)
from Rokko Oroshi (1972)
If ニールヤング.. er.. Neil Young.. had been born in Japan instead of ol’ Canada… he might have sounded something like this! Rokko Oroshi is Gypsy Blood’s second and final album, and it’s a pity, because this is classic dust-under-the-wheels road music… roll the windows down, dude. (Or roll another number…) Other tracks are straight-up Deliverance-style hand-clappin’, fiddle-sawin’, mandolin-pickin’ jams—wild stuff.
I am only guessing, but they may have gotten their name from the raw solo guitar track of the same name, recorded by Jimi Hendrix in 1968.
Piano parts on this album performed by none other than Alan Merrill, frontman of the amazing Tokyo glam rockers Vodka Collins. Stay tuned for some of that too.
Grabbed this record at Japanese Old Prog.
Lula Côrtes e Zé Ramalho — Trilha de Sumé
from Paêbirú (1974)
Wake up to these gorgeous pastoral stoner sounds from Brazilian psych duo Lula Côrtes e Zé Ramalho. It’s the kind of jam you wanna listen to while you space out on the steam swirling up from your pot of tea. Forced Exposure says:
Paêbirú is an obscure Brazilian psych concept album about the four elements (earth, air, fire, water) that was lost to time in a warehouse fire in 1974… the entire range of 1970s hippie Brazilian musician culture is displayed in this record.
A beautiful acoustic guitar track from Paêbirú as requested by yerdarlingdaily.
Agata Morio — Submarine
from Norimono Zukan (1980)
Heard this track on Liz Berg’s show this morning. It’s from Japanese folkie Agata Morio’s 1980 album Norimono Zukan, aka Transportation Encyclopedia. Don’t be fooled, though. This sounds nothing like folk—it’s one of the 11 LPs issed on the underground “techno-pop” label Vanity Records:
“Vanity Records in Osaka was one of the unforgettable hallmarks of the early Japanese underground music scene of the late-70′s. This label was founded by Yuzuru Agi, the music critic/editor of ROCK MAGAZINE. Agi was a sort of alternative visionary with a superb talent to assess new musical modes at a time when blues and West Coast-style rock still dominated the local music scene…Inspired by punk and the flood of indie labels that swept New York and London, Agi started Vanity Records in 1978, releasing 11 LPs, 3 singles, 12 flexis, and 6 cassettes between ’78 and ’82 (each release limited to 300-500 copies).”
- Satoru Higashiseto from Music No. 2, 1998, via Dave Knapik
Someone over at Direct Waves says the Morio track might actually be a cover (the music, at least) of the 1979 Joy Division track ‘She’s Lost Control‘… it’s a dead ringer.
Bridget St. John — Moody
from Hello Again: A Collection of Rare Tracks
This is the stuff Laurel Canyon dreams are spun from. Let’s-go-shopping-for-wind-chimes music. Shall-we-drive-to-the-beach music. Who’s-packing-the-picnic-blanket music.
Came across this ray of 70s sunshine yesterday while perusing the Motherlode over at WFMU’s Beware of the Blog. I can’t find a date for this particular track but I believe it’s from ‘77-‘79, and it comes from a Japanese comp of rare recordings, many of which are retooled versions of earlier material. Hat tip to the blog Dirty Funky Situation for this gold.
Kazuhiko Katoh — Jiraiya
from Super Gas (1971)
Someday soon I’ll have to change the name of this blog to ‘yer darling japan.’ It’s an unending obsession of mine. Until then, here’s a beautiful raga-like dirge for harmonium and guitar, by folk singer Kazuhiko Katoh. It’s his second solo outing, and the first after the breakup of his former group, the Folk Crusaders.
Two years ago, Katoh hung himself in a hotel room in Karuizawa, Nagano prefecture, at the age of 62, after telling one friend “I have nothing left that I want to do.”
Gene Clark — For A Spanish Guitar
from White Light (1971)
My interest in The Byrds is generally limited to the period in which Gram Parsons worked for the band. It was just a brief stint, enough time to record the masterpiece Sweetheart of the Rodeo, before Gram’s demands grew untenable for the group (higher salary, renaming the group ‘Gram Parsons and The Byrds,’ threats to Roger McGuinn’s leadership). Less than a year after joining, Gram struck out on his own.
At any rate, suffice to say I’d neglected the solo output of the original, founding members of the Byrds. That’s where this Gene Clark album comes in. An on-again, off-again founding member of the group, this album is the result of a period he spent living on the northern California coast with his wife and children, nestled in the hills of Mendocino, and the songs capture that ‘loner sound’ few guitarists do well. Songs that sound like they’re sung for the wind, for you, and no one else.
This track is the standout on the album, mournful though it sounds. Dylan supposedly said once that it’s a tune he’d have been proud to write. But he didn’t. Gene Clark did.
Bert Jansch — Open Up The Watergate (Let The Sunshine In)
from L.A. Turnaround (1974)
Bert Jansch, Scottish folkie and founding member of Pentangle, died today of lung cancer.
The phrasing here (one of Jansch’s fortes) is truly remarkable.
R.I.P.
Ian & Sylvia — You Were on My Mind
from Northern Journey (1964)
A boy from Victoria, BC, dreams of being a rodeo rider. He rides, gets hurt, learns guitar. Starts a band and moves to Toronto, where he performs in coffee shops and folk clubs. Meets girl from Ontario and starts a band with her. They move to New York City in 1962, and Albert Grossman signs them. They perform at the Newport Folk Festival in 1963, and marry a year later.
And that’s about where we are in time with this song, a Sylvia-penned number. Listen to that gorgeous autoharp. I really need to get my hands on one of those beauties. Record Fiend says her use of autoharp in this song was probably a significant contributor to the instrument’s resurgence during the 60s folk movement. Also worth checking out the We Five cover of this, significantly under the influence of the San Francisco sound.
Several years back, a CBC poll voted the Ian & Sylvia track ‘Four Strong Winds’ to be greatest Canadian song of all time. I was previously unaware that the tune was not borne of Neil Young’s pen. (It’s the closer to his 1978 album Comes a Time) Then again, Neil is Canadian. I think that’s why I was so convinced he wrote it. American songwriters don’t write “Think I’ll go out to Alberta/weather’s good there in the fall…”
Hat tip to i12bent — highly recommended tumblr if you’re a fan of biographies.
Kenneth Higney — Night Rider
from Attic Demonstration (1976)
I like to imagine this is what Kurt Vile would sound like if he were an untrained New Jersey truck driver, shouting out no discernible melody, backed by musicians who are extraordinarily adept at playing out of sync with each other.
But that’s the domain of Kenneth Higney, not Kurt Vile. Higney recorded this series of one-take demos in September 1976 and pressed 500 copies on vinyl. His plan was to distribute the album to fellow musicians, encouraging them to cover his tunes. As far as I know no one took him up on the offer, which isn’t all that hard to believe, though the record itself became a cult classic, a distillation of one man’s melancholy and despair. Some years ago, Higney himself re-released the album for all to hear.
Buddy Merrill — Gentle on my Mind
Really lovely little instrumental ditty from Buddy Merrill, the prodigy who became the house guitarist for the Lawrence Welk Show at the tender age of 19. This John Hartford song has been covered by pretty much everybody—Glen Campbell, Elvis, Dean Martin, Patti Page, Aretha Franklin, Johnny Cash. Here Merrill overdubs the hell out of it, with splendid results. (by the way, click each musician to hear their version of the song..the difference in treatments is amazing)
This gem was mined from a collection of really incredible country fuzz guitar songs (who knew?) compiled over at WFMU’s Beware of the Blog. Be sure to check out Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 of those posts… and stay tuned here for more fuzzbox country.
Judee Sill — Crayon Angels
from Judee Sill (1971)
Sometimes you gotta mellow out with a little California folk. Judee Sill is a good place to start—solid fingerpicking, a honeyed voice, maybe too polished for some. She wasn’t around for long—she died of a codeine overdose less than 10 years after releasing this album.
In the meantime, she opened a tour for David Crosby and Graham Nash, was featured on the cover of Rolling Stone and released one more album, before dropping out of the music business to work as a cartoonist. (Not totally out of left field—her mother’s second husband was an animator for Tom and Jerry)
Apparently the Fleet Foxes cover this number live, though I don’t think I’ve seen them do it.
UPDATE: everygreatsongever says:
Here’s Pecknold doing it alone in a Black Cab Session: blackcabsessions.com/in…
