Records That Got Me Through the Week

I have been bound up with increasing dizziness, more doctor visits, grading, and taking naps. But this week offered (as all weeks have done since I was 17) some recordings that kept me moving forward. I am going to try to make this a regular post--we shall see.

Merle Haggard: The Untamed Hawk Edit--This is a comp I burned from a huge Bear Family box of Merle's early recordings. Besides capturing the purity and subtle ache of his early singing, it includes some cool forgotten songs of his ("Life in Prison," "You Don't Have Very Far to Go," "I Must Be Somebody Else You've Known) and a treasure trove of his Lefty Frizzell covers--always interpreted with precision, passion, and love.
Mamas and the Papas: Gold--Not the group anyone who knows me would think I would like, but I dig the harmonies and strange rearrangements ("Do You Wanna Dance?" as a seductive ballad, Lennon-McCartney's "I Call Your Name" as a '30s chestnut, "Dedicated to the One I Love" as a spooky harmony showcase) and specific, out-of-left-field slice o' Sixties life originals ("Straight Shooter," "Creeque Alley," "Do What You Wanna Do"...and the eternal "California Dreamin'"). Denny Doherty and Mama Cass were way up there among the most underrated pop singers of the Sixties.
Marvin Gaye: The Ultimate Marvin Gaye CD--Another burn job. It's hard to get all the best Marvin in one place. So overrated he's underrated; also--smooth and rough, charmingly simply and intriguingly complex, waxing perfect pop and flawless funk--the man was a walking paradox. Fave Raves: "Stubborn Kind of Fellow" (with that great break in his voice when he sings "I have kissed a few/Honey, a few have kissed me too-uh-hoo!"), "You're All I Need to Get By," and especially "Trouble Man," which is just an audacious display of everything his voice could do couched in one of his greatest rhythmic inventions.
The Staples Singers: The Best of the Vee-Jay Years--FINALLY, a legit collection of these sessions is on the shelves. A monumental sound: Pops Staples' electric guitar, a water moccasin in the service of the Lord and learned at the feet of Charlie Patton, supporting the deepest gospel harmony ever waxed by teens (highlight: Mavis Staples, who at 66 is making her own waves these days), taken at an even, deliberate, almost stalking pace. A MUST for anybody who wants to understand the evolution of rock and roll in the 1950s, enough to convert Sam Harris to the Gospel, and the source of a myriad of allusions and straight-out steals galore (Funkadelic, Willie Nelson, Dr. Dre, the Rolling Stones, Dylan...those name sound familiar? Fave raves: "Uncloudy Day," "I Know I Got Religion," "Swing Down, Sweet Chariot," and "This May Be the Last Time"...but it's all good, folks.