Showing posts with label 1994. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1994. Show all posts

Monday, 11 December 2017

The Final Review: Crosby, Stills and Nash "After The Storm" (1994)









Available to buy in ebook format 'Change Partners - The Alan's Album Archives Guide To Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young' by clicking here!




Crosby, Stills and Nash “After The Storm” (1994)

Only Waiting For You/Find A Dream/Camera/Unequal Love/Till It Shines/It Won’t Go Away/These Empty Days/In My Life/Street To Lean On/Bad Boyz/After The Storm/Panama

‘There are things I wish I would have said before you rushed out of my life…It will take a million years to fill these empty days” or “I’ve got one last great love in my life and my heart is telling me it might be youuuuu”

Wow. We are here. We are actually here. The moment that I have been building up to across ten years, five youtube videos, four laptops, multiple sleepless nights, endless breakdowns, constant fascinating discussions on social media, one thousand one hundred and ninety nine posts and five hundred and twenty reviews. This, dear readers, is it, the very last review of the very last album missing from the thirty AAA bands we cover at Alan’s Album Archives. Every stone has been unturned, every turn has been stoned, even every one of the flipping thirty Rolling Stone live albums have been dissected across a decade of newsing, viewing, musing, perusing, reviewing and music-ing. At least until Neil Young releases another flipping album as he no doubt will in a fortnight’s time (hopefully he’s giving me a break for a week after the shock announcement of last week’s record ‘The Visitor’!) And what have we learnt in all that time and all those quadzillions of words dear reader? That by and large most bands’ essential releases tend to come at the beginning of their career, when they’re hungry and desperate to make their mark and are true to themselves, before record company interference and pressure causes all bands to buckle under the pressure some time, in some way (whether its band break-ups, line-up changes, nervous breakdowns, drug and drink overdoses or ‘Magical Mystery Tour’). That you can never ever quite count out the impossible (who guessed that I would be able to actually review a physical official copy of ‘The Beach Boys’ ‘Smile’ – actually make that two of them! – as well as comebacks from Cat Stevens, Pink Floyd, The Monkees and The Grateful Dead that I just didn’t see coming). That life is precious and short (we still miss you those who were lost along the way during the making of this website, from the Floyd’s Rick Wright on week three through to Buffalo Springfield’s Dewey Martin, The Kinks’ Pete Quaife, The Monkees’ Davy Jones, Syd Barrett, The Searchers’ Tony Jackson, The Small Faces’ Ian McLagan, The Who’s John Entwistle, Jefferson Airplane’s Signe Andersen, Lindisfarne’s Si Cowe, and the Airplane’s Paul Kantner last year, not to mention Oasis who released what turned out to be their final album weeks after we went online – and we always will). That the world can be crazy and do really dumb things (ten years ago the word ‘Brexit’ sounded like the title of a bad prog rock album and David Cameron could still stand next to a pig without making the world break down in laughter, while would you believe Obama was elected less than a year into the AAA’s reign over the internet and Trump was still seen as an idiot businessman?) That music is the single most glorious, wonderful, fantastical thing you could possibly be doing with or without your clothes on as it teaches us to be kind, to seek the truth, to embrace life and fight injustice with everything we’ve got. That music may well be the best art form there is, allowing us to dance our troubles away with the rhythms while the words tell us something we didn’t know about life – the two together, whether working together or in a battle, is a glorious sound when it’s used right as a good 80% of the records we’ve covered in our decade together demonstrate. That our visiting aliens from Zigorous Three and beyond including Catalunia The Third and Habridan The Seventh are astro-nuts, not to mention a whole role-call of clandusprods, mrasianarts and belobrats down the years. And of course that the Spice Girls are awful!

And also that ‘All Things Must Pass’. Except, for now, this website: aside from hoping to bring you the trickle of releases as they arrive next year and the following year and beyond into the future, we have a whole six months to go before the (hopeful) start of our book series, months in which we can bring you key concerts, key cover versions and an essay dedicated to each and every one of our bands (we even released two of them this year in the quiet period before the Christmas ‘rush’ of, err, two whole albums). Even so, this feels like an end, the moment I have been dreaming of for nine years at least, since I realised that if I was well enough and ambitious enough and mad enough that one day I might end up here with my job of discussing every single one of the studio albums by our chosen bands done one day (with smaller entries for live and solo and compilation records and, well, everything you could ask for really). I wasn’t sure that moment would ever arrive, I’m still not quite sure that it has – but the moment has been prepared for.

I’ve wondered long and hard about what album to put here as a big finale, dear readers and have even been asked on a couple of occasions what might go in this spot. If I’d really known I was going to get this far then I met kept back one of my all-time favourites for this spot (The Beach Boys’ ‘Smile’, The Who’s Quadrophenia’, The Hollies’ ‘Butterfly’, the Jefferson Airplane/Grateful Dead/CSNY crossover that is ‘Blows Against The Empire’). But I used up so many of my favourites for my original list of ‘101 classic or neglected albums everyone must own’ (what a long time ago that seems four hundred reviews ago!) that I didn’t have any left. I do, however, have a very wonderful album which sums up everything I wanted this site to be about and it’s an album that has everything this site has been banging on about since early 2008: passionate love songs, fierce angry politics, sweet reflective moments, raw dangerous passages, lots of old familiar signature moments combined with new places a band have never been to before. It looks back to the past, embraces the present and worries about the future, all frequent themes of many albums on this website. It sees the world with a view of short-term pessimism and long-term optimism, which turns up a lot too (particularly on Kinks LPs). This is an album that has, to quote from one of the very first reviews I ever wrote (the first CSN record) ‘harmonies straight from heaven – and rock credentials straight from hell’. It has the entirely fitting near goodbye message that ‘music is worth all the pain’ (an Alan’s Album Archives motto if ever there was one!) It is dominated by Graham Nash who, thanks to his triple stint in The Hollies and CSNY and solo has dominated this site more than any other figure except one – and Paul McCartney duly turns up to play too thanks to co-writing the album’s Beatles cover ‘In My Life’. And nobody else I know out there, even the most committed CSN fans of the lot even seems to know about or notice it.

That, of course, is where we come in – to rescue wonderful albums that fell through the cracks thanks to a band being out of fashion or an album being hard to buy and tell you lot to go out and buy them! ‘After The Storm’ might not have the daring-do or the free-wheeling wonders of the trio/quartet’s first brace of albums, but other websites out there have talked about those albums endlessly (plus we covered them in our early run of reviews). This reunion album from 1994 though is special: though the band didn’t realise it till record label Atlantic pointed it out and asked the trio to rush-release it, ‘Storm’ came out on the twenty-fifth anniversary of their first LP, the as-ever imaginatively titled ‘Crosby, Stills and Nash’ in 1969. Though CSN hardly ever looked backwards, they do on this LP and come up with a similar balance of love songs and political angst after a career of leaning towards one or the other (or taking the easy way out and breaking up, nine times out of ten). In the rollercoaster world of CSN most albums tend to be pitched towards one of the trio or another: for much of the 1970s it was Stills, for much of the 1980s it was Nash (apart from ‘American Dream’ where it was very much Young’s show on one of Neil’s rare returns) and more recently it was Crosby who was propping up reunion albums like 2000’s ‘Lookin’ Forward’ with the best songs. But ‘After The Storm’ is the one CSN/Y album that’s more or less equal, where all three men have something to say and are itching to say it, playing their sweetest ballads, their rockiest rock songs and some of their weirdest weird love songs. In this period Crosby is eight years out of prison and at the end of a terrific prolific run of songs made when, free of drugs at last, the songs pour out of him. Stills is recovering from another failed marriage and enjoying the stability of a lifetime with his new wife Kristen, who might not get as many songs written about her as Suite: Judy Blue Eyes Collins, Veronique Sanson or Rita Coolidge but is perhaps the greatest Stills muse of them all. And Nash is enjoying life after a difficult two decades of murdered girlfriends, disintegrating bands and organising nuclear protests to properly take to being a family man in Hawaii. For CSN the past is an inspiration and the future seems golden.

Alas, the present is slightly less savoury. We’re at the stage politically when Bill Clinton is beginning to fade from view, having achieved all he can with a Republican congress blocking his movements and when he’d visibly much rather have been watching The Grateful Dead (jeez a Deadhead in charge of the free world - it all seems so long ago suddenly doesn’t it?) The Monica Lewinsky scandal is about to break, but already there is a feeling in the air that the change promised isn’t quite coming in America. Over in Britain Margaret Thatcher’s successor John Major is trying to cling onto power quietly, but the leader of the opposition Tony Blair is becoming more and more respectable, dogging his every move with youthful vigour and demanding honesty and fairness (wow, this really is a long time ago isn’t it?!) There’s a worldwide recession – the one before this one – to remind us about the evils of capitalism, right on cue five years after the collapsed of communism (when CSN were particularly riding the crest of a wave, being the headline act at the actual fall of the Berlin Wall that night in 1989). The young are out of work, the rich are becoming poor and the poor are starving. The Woodstock generation suddenly feels a lifetime ago and on the 25th anniversary of the concert the exact same month this album came out the point was made even starker with a ‘reunion’ concert. So few acts who played the show in 1969 are available to play thanks to illness, death, imprisonment, band break-ups or the need to stay safe in millionaire tax havens so in the end only Country Joe McDonald, Joe Cocker, John Sebastian, Santana and CSN are available to play. Many things have changed: back in 1969 there were so many millions of kids gathering for the concert that it was registered briefly as ‘the third biggest city’ in America, whilst it caught authorities by surprise as they were so overwhelmed the ticket price got waived and locals and police went in to help as much as they could. In 1994 only a fraction of people turn up and most of them are aged hippies wondering what happened to their mis-spent youth (‘seems more worthwhile every single day’), while everybody was ready this time, with endless breaks in the concert to advertise sponsors, burger vans a-plenty, endless merchandise vans and huge TV deals.

One of those people watching the TV that night was me. I’d been a CSN fan for two years already since discovering ‘Live It Up’ and I’d slowly worked my way backwards to buy as much of the back catalogue as I possibly could (not the rare stuff like ‘Stills Alone’ just yet though, that took another decade of scouring charity shops!) Being British and born in completely and utterly the wrong decade it was my first chance to actually my favourite band perform and I stayed up to a ridiculously long way past my then-bedtime (which would actually feel like going to bed early in my current lifestyle of spoonie illness and insomnia!) I had never actually seen CSN ‘move’ before. Sure they looked old and they sounded rough (even for a fan who loved ‘Four Way Street’) but they were one hell of a lot better than all the modern acts who were on (seriously, Salt and Pepa’s set over-ran so CSN had one less song on our television coverage. I’ve never quite forgiven them yet!) It was a huge event in my life so why wasn’t it in everybody else’s? Nobody was talking about it at school the next day, even the teachers (I’d given up on my Spice Girls loving classmates by then, more or less) and whenever I mentioned Crosby, Stills and Nash people assumed I was talking about a lawyer firm. This was a big deal for me, but I realised to my horror that it was such a tiny thing for everybody else and that the world had moved on from the Woodstock hope and good vibes and the idea that peace and love could be the ‘norm’ for society, not something weird people did at weekends in between office work.

CSN clearly realised it too because ‘After The Storm’ tries so hard to be contemporary. That’s what it really shares with the first album – it holds a mirror up to the world, shows where it went wrong and how it could be better. ‘Find A Dream’ is a gorgeous song that reflects on how much water has gone under the bridge and how crucial it is in an often cruel world to find something to hang on, to ‘find a dream’ whatever that dream may be and however impossible (very Alan’s Album Archives, that!) ‘Till It Shines’ is a song about being true to yourself come what may, that the world is a corrupt and confusing place and anyone who thinks they’ve spotted how it ‘works’ is lying to you. ‘It Won’t Go Away’ attacks the modern media’s reliance on big business and the way it brainwashes people into thinking that life is all miserable.‘Street To Lean On’ and ‘Bad Boyz’ worry about a generation seemingly doomed to be unemployed and castigated for not being lucky enough to be born baby boomers (has there ever been a more up-to-date AAA song than the latter, with its heavy metal crunch and outrage – it out-rocked any actual song any of my friends were listening to by ‘hip’ bands and it made sense too!) The world is a place of stars to reach for – and gutters when you fall over reaching for them. The first CSN album wasn’t an entirely hippie love-fest either (‘Wooden Ships’ is, after all, about the aftermath of a nuclear war while ‘Long Time Gone’ suffers a nervous breakdown after the assassination of Robert Kennedy). However ‘After The Storm’ is kinda darker, a more realistic portrayal of what changes mankind needs to make before we can live in peace and harmony.

Indeed, CSN can’t even live in peace and harmony at home anymore. Following on from the restless heartbreak of ‘Live It Up’ this is an album that’s less about ‘Our House’ and more about ‘your alimony’. We start off in a very happy place with Stills’ brilliant love song ‘Only Waiting For You’ which finds him dating Kristen (the pair will marry in 1996) and aware that ‘I’ve got one last love left in my life – and my heart is telling me it might be youuuuu!’ while dismissing his younger, more restless self-destructive self as a ‘basket case’. Elsewhere though he’s still very much feeling the split with his last wife Pamela: ‘These Empty Days’ wonders about the ‘things I forgot to say as you walked out of my life’ whilst the narrator knows his last difficult days with her are going to haunt him for ‘years’. Crosby is celebrating a fifteenth wedding anniversary he never expected to arrive but is haunted by how easily he nearly lost his life along with wife Jan and how he wished he could stop time ‘like a knife’ right here and now, where he’s happy. Nash has been married to wife Susan for even longer but the unease heard on ‘Live It Up’ is heard ever more on this album worried ballad ‘Unequal Love’. Love was, in 1969, something to be cherished because it was new and exciting and made you feel so alive – in 1994 love is something that keeps you going through your worst times and stops you feeling dead.

Finally Stills takes one last lingering look back to the past as he recalls how he lost his virginity to an older, more experienced girl from ‘Panama’ and how it was his rite of passage into being a ‘man’, as if to remind us how love has shaped him. Even the music recalls the Latin American grooves of Stills’ earlier years and solo albums (though only the ‘Cuban’ finale to ‘Suite: Judy’ had ever made it to a CSN record before now). That’s a typical finale for an album which does indeed have an eye over its shoulder all the way through, not just in a world but in a personal sense, though not always in ways that would be obvious to the casual fan. ‘Camera’ isn’t just about freezing time in the present but a tribute to Crosby’s cinematographer father Floyd (he got a ‘Golden Globe’ for his work on ‘High Noon’). ‘In My Life’ is a fabulous fab four song about revisiting the past (and as such is perfect for this album, being inspired by a walk Lennon took around childhood Liverpool haunts in a rare break from being a Beatle) that itself recalls ‘Blackbird’, one of the most popular songs in CSN’s setlists. It was also one of the first songs they sang together as an ‘audition’ piece for The Beatles’ ‘Apple’ records back in London before they signed to Atlantic for their first LP (they also performed it at both ‘Woodstock’ and ‘Woodstock ‘94’). ‘Street To Lean On’ also recalls Crosby’s years in prison (‘You know you can eat real good when you’re doing time!’)

The result is an album that feels like an ‘ending’. It almost was. Sessions for the album ended early when Crosby was feeling unwell. He got worse on the tour that followed and for the first time reviewers started to be rude about the trio’s harmonies, as opposed to their weight or their fashion sense or anachronisms as usual (ha, as if peace and love is a fashion statement rather than a way of life!) After keeling over Crosby was diagnosed with liver failure in November 1994 and was given emergency treatment. There was a lot of fuss in the press: did a former alcoholic who had openly admitted to taking drugs deserve a second chance at life when so many others lost theirs? But if CSN ever had a mantra it was that all life was worth saving (well, maybe not Bush Jnr or Nixon!) and Crosby had been a model recovering addict since returning from prison in 1987, giving many talks in public that must have been hard to make, attending endless meetings, adopting those he felt were in need and falling off the rails (including then-teenage child actress Drew Barrymore who lived with the Crosbys for a year) and opening up about how awful it was in a best-selling autobiography ‘Long Time Comin’ (still amongst the best AAA reads out there). If ever there was a figure of how to do right after doing wrong then  it was Crosby – and if ever there was an album about doing the same its this one. Alas ‘After The Storm’ was so hideously unfashionable in a world of grunge and heavy metal that it disappeared and Atlantic did the unthinkable, dropping the band boss Ahmet Ertegun had helped put together and who had once been one of their best-selling acts, leaving CSN to disappear from view until Neil returns at the end of 1999. Chalking it up to another reminder to be more careful in the future, Crosby’s blazing creativity will slow down into something more ‘normal’ past this point, when he forms a band with son and friend to make up for the lack of touring which he names ‘CPR’ both for their combined names CSN-style and for the new lease of life he’s been given. Stills and Nash will be even more quiet than that, disappearing into family life and not making any more records until ‘Lookin’ Forward’ released just past the band’s thirtieth anniversary.

‘After The Storm’ was, then, a last chance to look back on a past that had seen the band on Atlantic for an unbroken thirty year run (well unbroken in terms of labels – it was broken up like crazy paving in terms of band bus-ups!) It’s full of pride about what the band achieved back in the day and what they stood for, along with songs about family and first loves. It’s full of worries over the present day and how the world is unfolding, in roughly the opposite direction to the way it had seemed when they’d first got together, full of songs about families both departing and starting. And they look to the future with wonder and hope, dreaming of a time when the mad crazy world we live in is finally working properly and people live together in harmony the way they should have done all along. One of CSN’s most consistent albums, this is also one of their most melodic, most poetic and most courageous albums, branching out into multiple different directions without doing what so many AAA album we’ve criticised in the past have done – far from throwing out the baby with the bathwater, this is an update of an old sound that’s still there, not a replacement for it. This is still audibly CSN from first note to last, but it does sound more relevant than normal, better suited to the times that ignored it and a far better match for what was happening in the world in 1994 than bleeding Spice Girls influences Salt ‘n’ Pepa. It’s one of their very best in fact, severely under-rated and long overdue for a re-issue one day so more fans can get to hear it (Atlantic buried it so much few even knew it was out the first time anyway). But then that’s what Alan’s Album Archives is all about: once the storm of whatever is currently in vogue has long died out and the brainwashing of the media about a particular politician has faded we can better see the world for what it really is and get back to what we should be doing: being kind to one another. I just want to see the love in fans’ eyes for this obscure album after ther storm has passed you and gone. 

The album explodes into glorious technicolour with Stills’ ‘Only Waiting For You’, the single poppiest CSN moment since ‘Marrakesh Express’. The song was written at the last minute when the trio were putting their running order together and realised they didn’t have a strong catchy opener for the album. Given that the last time Nash mentioned this to Stills he had come up with the terrific ‘Carry On’, Graham jokingly mentioned this to Stephen to see if lightning would strike twice twenty-four years on. Stills is a master of deadlines and took to this song with speed, offering it up so CSN could record in one last frenetic session on July 1st (making this effectively the last song any of the band will make for their old ‘home’ at Atlantic). Though clearly written as a deliberately punchy ear-catching opener there is nothing forced about this song though and indeed its hard to imagine the album without it, as the dash of hope an otherwise gloomy record needs. In between writing his songs for the album in a downbeat mood in 1992 and 1993 Stills had shocked himself by falling in love again after meeting Kristen. Anyone whose come to this album after the heartbreak of ‘Live It Up’ and ‘Stills Alone’ will know that this was the last thing Stills was expecting (indeed, I would have laid money on him living in a cave and becoming a hermit after hearing the painful cry of ‘Haven’t We Lost Enough?’) Stills is as shocked as anyone at this rapid twist in fate and fortune and really feels like it’s the real deal this time (your heart will break on the line ‘I’ve got one last great love left in my life and my heart is telling me it might be you’, so fragile and so Stills after admitting to being over-confident just a verse before it!) While I’m not sure I quite buy his claims of being a ‘most reclusive kind of guy’ who ‘usually runs and hides’ around love (not after all those albums chasing Judy, Rita and Veronique!), there’s something delightfully autobiographical and open about this song, perhaps the last song Stills truly wrote from his big wide open heart. He calls his younger self a ‘basket case’, so desperate for love he tried too hard, prepared to woo his ‘best friend’ into being his lover and certain that all those missed opportunities and wasted chances across the rest of his life have been good practice for the love of his life, which he was waiting for all these years and has finally found. It’s such a CSN moment: life was horrific, but now everything is easy ‘cause of you’, hate and guilt and frustration turning into love at a moment’s notice and all you have to do is be ready for it. Admittedly the middle eight sounds rushed, Stills switching to a rudimentary run through the nearest minor chord while playing some gutsy bluesy guitar, but even this works in context The joy of this bouncy ‘Tigger’ song is infectious, marvellously handled by a band firing on all cylinders as their regular backing band in this era (Michael Finnigan, who is unusually subtle on the synths here, and drummer Jody Cortez, with everything else played by Stills in one last great show of being ‘Captain Manyhands’) and some classy CSN harmonies that make them all sound like love-struck teenagers in a way we’ve never quite heard them before. Stills’ lead is delightful too, raw but right on the money and so perfect for this track its clearly still new and fresh and exactly how he’s feeling at the moment he entered the studio. That joy is matched only by the response of the listener who have waited so so very long to hear Stills happy after such an awful time in his love life – and now at last he is. That was the best anniversary present CSN could ever have given us! How this wonderful pop ditty wasn’t the album single I’ll never know…

‘Find A Dream’ is even better. A moody Nash song about failure and throwing in the towel, it’s the perfect accompaniment to the last song. Wonderful moments when you feel on top of the world are rare and there to be cherished. Graham was clearly in a bad mood when he wrote this one: ‘life is uncertain, life is unknown, life is a shot in the dark’. One of Nash’s most poetic and under-rated set of words, its almost haiku like in its symmetry but gloriously written, telling a ‘whole’ story in a clever way (the rhyming couplet – which looks on paper as if it couldn’t possibly rhyme with anything, is the rather natty ‘life is a curtain, always unfolding, life is an amber and a spark’. Things can be extinguished quickly, without warning, a flame that can easily be put out and this equates to both mood and human life. In many ways this song is a call for help, Nash reaching out a hand to anyone listening to this song in trouble with the stark lines ‘don’t be a fool – stay around for a long time!’ It’s his equivalent emotional and evocative phrase counterpart to Neil’s line ‘it’s better to burn out than it is to rust’ – nonsense, says Nash with typical brusqueness, life is precious and valuable and it’s always worth fighting on. ‘Time is a gift, not a loan’ he urges, a gorgeous line that should be printed on a tour t-shirt one day. Looking to give his audience a practical reason why to get through the hard times he urges them ‘try to find a dream’ – a very CSN message because if you can find something to believe in and put your energies into, however small, then the world will be a batter place because of it. The music too is some of Nash’s best, sounding both instantly Nash-like (those gloomy chords, that wistful harmonica break) and something he’d never tried before (it’s all ice-cool detachment, as if singing to us from a distance, while the constant drum pattern that underlines everything is gorgeous, the constant repetition an grind of life that’s deeply unusual for the much more melodic Graham – how much better an album might be the synth-drums of ‘Innocent Eyes’ have been if it had sounded like this?) The recording too is marvellous. Perhaps sensing how out of touch with his usual style this song is and how well it suits the more eroded vocals of his companion, Nash gives the ‘lead’ of this song to Stills to sing and he excels at it, worrying at the song like a dog with a bone and there’s a particularly gorgeous point when he holds the note of most lines long past the point where its comfortable – it ought to sound wrong, but somehow it sounds beautiful (‘not a lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o—an!’, as if all that extra effort will be rewarded and lead into the next line in a continual round of digging yourself out of trouble). There are some exquisite CSN harmonies too when the song gets going, Crosby sinking under the weight of the world and Nash rising with hope all at the same time. Truly beautiful and incredibly haunting, ‘Find A Dream’ is one of the best CSN songs you might not know.

‘Camera’ makes it a pretty stunning one-two-three from each of the trio. Rather than getting sucked into the idea of a glorious present or depressive future, though, Crosby looks back to the past. His father Floyd had become rich through taking pictures and while David never followed his dad’s interests (has there ever been a Crosby selfie, even on his hilarious twitter feed?) he was fascinated by the idea of freezing time in a moment that could be seen as a memory forever. The point seems to be that the images mean nothing without their very human context – they would just be a sea of images and people, not ‘my first birthday party’ or ‘my best friend before he got shot in Vietnam/Iraq’, but that things and people that are important to the narrator can be kept and cherished forever, at a point in time when the narrator wants to remember them. As if to prove the point we open with a seemingly random image, of Crosby on his bike ‘wobbling down the path’ surrounded by laughing children – the face of the future that he ‘teaches’ by being himself in all his eccentric glory, who might remember him by a treasured photograph. In keeping with the album theme Crosby looks both forward and back, looking forward to ‘photographing the future when it finally comes ot call’ and ‘when I am old and lonely’ going through old photos can ‘cover up the clocks’ and make him feel young again. Crosby takes pictures of everything that means anything to him: his ‘lover’s sleeping smile with the starlight on his face’, his father fighting in WW2 while he was a baby ‘in the jungles of South America’ and the children who are captured in their innocence and open-ness because ‘they haven’t learnt to hide’ (or pose). Stills gets a co-credit for the music on this song and may well have suggested this song’s exotic Latin American rhythms after reading that verse of Crosby’s about ‘South America’. The only time Stills worked his musical love into one of his partner’s songs, it’s an inspired move, giving this song a lop-sided rhythm that makes it feel as if time is stopping and starting again and Stills excels himself with an exaggerated flamenco guitar part that catches him so by surprise he even chuckles during the song’s instrumental break in the silence before some terrific drumming from newcomer Tristan Imboden kicks the song off again. Wrapped up with some more delightful harmonies (‘While I r-i-i-i-i-i-i-de’ sounds like Crosby pals Jefferson Airplane singing ‘Watch Her Ride’ from their glorious album ‘After Bathing At Baxters’ in 1967, but with pleasure not pain) this is another stunning album moment, nicely handled.

Usually the first song recorded at a CSN album session rather set the tone, but album single ‘Unequal Love’ recorded back in January feels separate from the album somewhere. An overly emotional tale of heartbreak, on the one hand it’s the latest in a long line of sensitive Nash ballads and on the other it’s not like any other Nash love song at all. Nash has always known what he wants and what to get, whether he was chasing first wife Rose Eccles, muse Joni Mitchell, doomed lover Amy Gossage, wife Susan or current partner Amy Grantham. But here, for one time only, he sounds unsure. ‘Did you ever stay too long with a lover who was over you?’ he sighs, comparing a romance slowly falling apart with the line that the niggle started as a ‘whisper on the wind’ getting louder with every breath. Though his love life was as turbulent as Stills’, Nash was a far more eager and optimistic participant, but here he admits that ‘there are many many reasons not to play ‘the game’ at all’. He sighs that not all love is meant to be, that sometimes one partner will pull more than the other and that the ‘pressure of this can break them. A second verse tries to put a typical plaster over this (‘They’ll tear the arrow from your heart, it’s you they love, it’s not just anybody!’) and it’s the perfect moment for some spine-tingling harmonies to arrive with Stills on particularly great form again. The melody too is pretty sumptuous, with its rises and falls and long great sighs and fittingly feels like the narrator is sleepwalking, hypnotised into walking on despite his instincts (especially the harmonica break which starts off simple and short then keeps going until Nash collapses, having all but run out of breath, for Stills’ shimmering guitar to take over). The performance, though, feels a bit rushed and over-weighted on a song that sounds better when Nash is singing it alone (as he does on a live version on his ‘Reflections’ box set) and it’s a measure of how strong this album is that this lovely song isn’t quite up to the first three.

‘Till It Shines’ finds Crosby in a bluesy mood as he returns to his favourite chords from ‘Long Time Gone’ and plays them on guitar instead of Stills playing them on an organ. It’s a provocative track, trying to shake an unknown someone awake and make them see what’s really going on and it’s a very Crosby concept, sharing its title with the chant ‘How Does It Shine?’ from the ‘Crosby*Nash’ CD of 2004. Unlike many Crosby songs, though, this track keeps its target close to its chest and seems to be more about human ignorance in general than anyone specific. ‘What does it take to getcha to admit it?’ he purrs over the funky opening, before later adding that the people he seems around him who seem to know so much ought to be ‘as confused as me’, seeking information about how the world works when Crosby knows there are no real answers. The best verse comes in the middle when Crosby laughs at people who are reaching for something, anything, to make their life better and to start having fun, be it a good job, savings, women, families, retirement. ‘It’s a piece of empty paper!’ he snaps, ‘it’s a piece of empty pie, it’s a vision of illusion that will surely pass you by!’ Unfortunately, while this song reads like a great song the melody so insists on slapping the liostener around the face with its awkward and unusually ugly feel that it doesn’t really suit this band or the performance they give. Stills is having fun roaring his head off on guitar (has he ever played so many guitar parts on a CSN album before?), but this is his territory not Crosby’s and David’s vocal can’t match it. Still there’s a nice rush of energy during the middle eight that seems to find all the answers, gaining momentum and energy with a pulsing organ chord, even though it’s the passage of the song when Crosby admits that he’s clueless (‘Don’t know what to tell you, haven’t got a clue…’).

One of the forgotten album highlights ‘It Won’t Go Away’ is exactly what CSN should have been doing on their 25th anniversary. One of the biggest developments between 1969 and 1994 was the rise of the way politics was reported, with American media split between left and right wing networks all giving their own ‘spin’ on news events and 24 hour news channels that enabled you to see events unfold near real time. Stills had clearly been watching Fox News a lot as he spits venom on this kick-ass song about crooked politicians and ‘media honeys’ using their ‘TV choice’. CSN always used their voice for the disaffected and unheard and they do superbly here, Stills angrily turning on those who say that the youngsters are all lazy and that its all the fault of ‘people of colour’. Stills sees the media as trying to turn Americans against each other, ‘keeping us afraid of each other’ and the fact that so many of the reporters claim to ‘speak for me’. ‘One of us surely is a fool’ Stills scoffs, as the Government-affiliated networks spread lies and un-truths while assuming their audience are too thick to see through it and Stills sounds outraged as he concludes ‘you know that he thinks that its me!’ A storming guitar solo releases the tension before another glorious verse about those with ‘evil intent trying to confuse and control the minds of the innocent’. This time, though, instead of going where we went before Stills and Nash suddenly burst into instant falsetto harmonies on the line ‘good people have got to speak up!’, as if offering us a ‘new’ way of listening to each other. The pair are clearly having great fun on this vocal and they’re on top form (just listen to the way Nash mirrors the way Stills sings ‘inent-uh’, as if he knows his partner so well he guessed he was going to do this – Stills can’t stop grinning for the rest of the verse despite his anger). Performed with a terrific stinging contemporary feel (think superior period heavy metal), this is CSN doing what they always did so well – speaking up for disaffected youths – but the glory of this song is that they’re sticking up for ‘my’ generation (near enough) rather than merely their own. The whole theme of the song, anyway, is that corruption is always there with every generation and ‘won’t go away’, though the song retains the CSN hope that there are enough of ‘us’ to maybe one day overthrow the chains of ‘them’. ‘Don’t you dare turn away!’ CSN snarl, a sentiment I wish they’d given us more often in their later years. The younger rebellious selves of ‘Long Time Gone’ and ‘Ohio’ era would have been very proud of what their older selves grew into on this track, one of the best songs of their ‘reunion’ albums (which is pretty much all of them!)

‘After The Storm’ is a rare album of solidarity, with CSN making an album because they wanted to work with each other again (unlike ‘Daylight Again’ started without Crosby and ‘Live It Up’ started without Stills). This can be heard on the rare co-write ‘These Empty Days’ which feels as if it started life as a Nash song (the melody of the verses is pure Nash, folky Hollies in its lonely walk through Dylanesque chords but whilst wearing glittery pop shoes) before Crosby adopted it with his own ideas (the middle eight, which seems to run ‘backwards’, is very much like his usual work). The pair then hand the song over to Stills to sing lead on and he excels on a song that ended up very much like his own work too, despairing over another impending divorce. ‘I can’t deal with it!’ he pleads on his own in between some typical CSN harmonies, but the main theme of the song is more detached and poetic than usual. The narrator recalls how a relationship fell apart, how the decisions he made within the last few hours have haunted him for years and in a clever line ‘how it will take a million years to fill these empty days’ (that sounds like  Crosby line to me!) What this song lacks is a performance as strong as the song, as CSN struggle with such a pot pourri of styles all flung together that veers from folk to blues to pop with each new flurry of words. It’s also a little too ‘tidy’ for an album that’s generally so emotional and CSN are perhaps a little too far gone to nail this song’s tricky precision with the pure beauty of their earlier work. This is still a lovely song, floating like a butterfly compared to many of the other songs that sting like a bee.

Stills had recorded his version of Beatles classic ‘In My Life’ for his ‘Stills Alone’ album in 1994. His solo version brings out the weary sense of loss and pain well, but it lacks the uplifting twist in Lennon’s lyrics and the pure beauty of one of McCartney’s greatest sleepwalking melodies (yes, this is one of the few songs they wrote 50:50). The song is perfect for a CSN sugar-coating though and this re-make is a triumph, recalling their stately but stunning arrangement on ‘Blackbird’ a quarter century earlier. I think I prefer this cover though, which is a much more natural CSN song somehow, despite being less of a ‘protest’ song. The song’s tale of how things from years gone by will always live with you and that your memories can stay even if the places around you change, it’s perfect for this album of changing times and recalls ‘Camera’ in its ability to freeze time and stop and start it again. More vulnerable than the Beatles arrangement and losing the awful mock baroque George Martin piano solo of the original (that really didn’t fit), this version is less immediate than The Beatles’ arrangement and loses out on the tempo which is quite painfully slow but wins out on the harmonies and the weary sense of loss in the vocals, plus Nash’s sweet harmonica part which is one of his best. That’s Stephen’s son Christopher - the baby on ‘To Mama From Christopher And The Old Man’ back on ‘Stills’ in 1975 – making his first recorded appearance on any CD. He’s quite a big star in his own right these days. Curse the fact that we never got to the end of the ‘covers’ project CSN were planning in 2012 before they split if it sounded anything like as good as this.

For once on a CSN album Crosby doesn’t get any ballads to sing. Instead his third and final song is another demented rocker ‘Street To Lean On’ being another of this album’s comment about modern-day living. Coming on like a slowed down ‘Rockin’ In The Free World’ Crosby points to how messed up life is and how topsy turvy it seems. The first verse has a homeless ‘bag lady’ whom the police are tired of arresting for doing nothing wrong than be unfortunate and unlucky – they urge her to come along with them because she’d be better off in prison, fed and clothed and with a roof over her head. In a second verse there’s a street gang the police are afraid of catching and who know the law just enough to get away with being re-arrested ‘nineteen times this month’. A third verse has a ‘fat lady with a wig on’ moaning about the young who are hungry and desperate – they lunge for her purse containing money she would barely notice, but it would be a lifesaver to them. She’s buying antiques to look pretty in her big house, but like many CSN songs the future is the ‘children’ and they’re being treated abominably, the world no longer investing in them. A final verse then lays the finger of blame at the politician who will ‘promise you anything’ but simply pockets the money and runs in practice, with no one to hold his policies to account. They’re the one set of people who could do something about all of this injustice, but they’re too busy making the most out of the system themselves. Crosby’s wicked grin has great fun on one of his most sarcastic tracks and it’s a great foil for Stills’ oh-so-straightforward howl of pain on guitar. The song both reads and sounds wonderful, with another terrific band performance that also features a terrific guest acoustic part from Crosby friend Michael Hedges. However the song needs a better chorus, especially on a song that insists on repeating it so much: even 522 reviews in I’ve never had a song using the word ‘galleria’ (a mammoth shopping centre) before. The theme of the song is a good one though: the kids and homeless have nothing but the trust they get from each other (and ‘the gutter when they fall’), while the rich and the politically savvy can afford to be in it for themselves.

A second rocker in a row has Stills doing what Crosby has just been saying but with even more muscle and contemporary beats. ‘Bad Boyz’ is about prejudice again, the idea that the young are a bad lot who have brought their current status of unemployment and petty criminal acts on themselves. Stills, though, can see beyond the image of what people insist on telling him and can see that they’re ‘unlucky’ much more than they’re ‘bad’. ‘Has anyone ever tried to figure out just why they got so bitter and hard?’ he asks, wondering how ‘we’re gonna explain life to them’ when it’s all so fucked up and stacked against them. He again blames the news for spreading hatred, for pitting one side against another in an endless war instead of bringing people together. ‘Deserted and abandoned, they do the best they can’ is Stills’ passionate argument as he points out the hypocrisy of rich elder folks complaining when they ‘can’t speak to their neighbour’. This is, though, a song that is much more about feeling than intelligent arguments and Stills’ guitar solo is sublime, so loud and high and mighty and yet so full of pain and suffering too. Ethan Johns doubles on rhythm guitar and drums and both are superb, the whole song adding up to a glorious burst of noise. For once the only thing that doesn’t quite work are the vocals, with Crosby, Nash and (I think?) Michael Finnigan drowning out Stills on his own song. I sense this is one he might have been better keeping for a solo album where his aging vocals might have suited it rather better. It is, though, a terrific moment of clarity amidst the madness and again it’s so good to hearing someone from the baby boomer generation sticking up for ‘us’.

One of the reasons I wanted to end my run of (almost – curse you for releasing another album at the last minute Neil!) interrupted reviews with this album was title song ‘After The Storm’. It’s the perfect finale, so perfect that I have it listed as one of the songs to be played at my funeral. This is, you see, a song about what life is really about, bringing words of comfort after crisis and reasons to carry on, even after something very very sad has happened. Nash has never talked about why he wrote it and I’ve often wondered: his parents were long dead by this time – maybe he was thinking about his murdered girlfriend Amy on the twentieth anniversary of her death? Nash, though, is through mourning and is always moving on, the way humans do, old enough to realise the rollercoaster of emotions that is life and the thought that after storm clouds sunshine and rainbows will always come. And even death isn’t final:  the melodies he had in his head during a relationship are ‘still lingering on’ and so are the memories. ‘So sad’ he sighs, but he has to continue living his life without the sadness getting him down and he then imagines his own death, asking to see the love in the eyes of those who loved him, not the tears. A middle eight isn’t quite as strong, returning to Nash’s age-old theme of being true to yourself and that life ‘doesn’t work if you pretend’ but even that is twisted in a golden sudden shift back to the major key that his own story is proof – he couldn’t do things alone and needed to be true for himself and his friends. Along the way this music finds room to make us feel better by telling us that pain is an inevitable part of life, but that it is so worth it – because to miss something that breaks your heart you have to have really loved it in the first place. ‘How come I have to explain?’ he asks, adding that music, people and children are ‘worth all the pain’. In a way this is the CSN theme song for their big finale on Atlantic: all those arguments, all those battles, all that in-fighting were all worth it for those three things which, more than any other three words, define what makes CSN special. The melody too is glorious, solemn and beautiful, yet fragile and ready to break. Wrapped up in a gorgeous folky arrangement that makes it sound like a traditional song, Nash’s stiff-upper-lip vocal is superb, quivering in all the right places, while once again Stills is superb behind him. The high falsetto vocal is by Stephen’s daughter Jennifer making her only appearance on any of her dad’s related recordings and its terrific, hanging in the air like a ghost and perfectly fitting for a song that’s partly about family. Don’t mourn Alan’s Album Archives (even with six months of articles still to go!) We just want to see the love in your eyes – and yes even writing 522 reviews it was well worth all the pain!  This song is superb and one of my very favourite pieces of music by anybody, saying inside three and a half minutes what so many bands struggle to say in an entire career.

That song is the perfect end – but CSN never do things the traditional way and instead throw this website a curveball encore. ‘Panama’ is a song unlike any we’ve reviewed in - what - six hundred thousand songs is it now? Until Stills gets round to writing his autobiography (He’s the only member of CSNY who hasn’t yet) I’ll never know for sure just how close this song is to the ‘truth’. It ‘sounds’ real though, which is the part that matters and it would help explain an awful lot about his love of Latin American sounds. This song recalls how he lost his virginity aged fifteen to an older woman who turned him into a man in ‘Panama’ but not as tacky or as heavy-metal based as that makes it sound.  My guess is that Stills was dating a lady who was originally from there in one of the many endless American states the Stills family were forever moving to. ‘I was not a child, I was not yet a man’ he recalls as the song bubbles over with lust and curiosity, his journey as a visitor to this foreign land a decent metaphor for his growing love life. He sets off into the dark and unknown and she follows him there, disguised by ‘leaves and dust’. Unsure of what to do or where to go they make love in the jungle as he falls under the ‘spell’ of this exotic land until Stills suddenly bursts into life on a yell of ‘Yo Soy Panamo’ (‘I am Panama!’) Sounding not unlike the Ricky Martin songs all my ignorant classmates were getting into but a million times better, Stills often pours his heart out the most on his ‘Spanish’ songs and so it proves here with another terrific band performance that’s full of life and energy and more than a little danger. Once again CSN feel a little adrift here on a song that might have suited Stills better alone but the guitar mix between father and son Stephen and Christopher is a thrilling last throw of the dice in the Atlantic CSN canon.

The end result is an album that’s way better than it has any right to be for a band celebrating their silver anniversary. If not quite CSN’s best or most groundbreaking record, in many ways it’s their most consistent and satisfying, absent from our original ‘core 101 albums everyone should listen to’ list more because it was already swamped with CSN records than any loss as an album. It should have been the start of a whole new era, proving in the 1960s-friendly 1990s that there was still very much a future for this band but that they understood the changes that had taken place since 1969 too – that the youngsters hadn’t failed to become hippies through lack of trying and that finding their way out of the ‘devil’s garden’ to become ‘stardust’ was ever harder as the decades went on, with even more corruption and a whole lot more brainwashing going on. CSN had never been more unified or equal, with the excellent cover logo (by Stills and Nash, developed by graphic artists Kate Nook and Rand Wetherwax) summing up this album well: every letter ‘belongs’ together, wrapping their limbs around each other in a golden hug, the bright light in the sky while the storm rages behind them. Stills, especially, is on top form for this album. He was almost always inspired when he was first in love and so it proves here, as his longest lasting marriage inspires him to provide some of his gutsiest vocals and some terrific guitar work, while Nash is uncharacteristically deep on this record and Crosby is uncharacteristically feisty. The result is an album that any band we cover would have been proud to have had in their canon in any era and it should have been a huge success. Instead Atlantic buried it, Crosby getting sick rather kyboshed the tour and the rise and rise of Neil Young in this period (with ‘Sleeps With Angels’ on the back of ‘Harvest Moon’) eclipsing this album commercially, if not necessarily critically. The band split, again, releasing no new music between them at all until Crosby’s first album with CPR four years later (and even that was only ever released in America). What a waste: they had so much more to give and indeed still do (especially in these Trump years of division – we need their blend of hope and harmony more than ever before).

After the storm has passed you and gone, though, it’s easier to tell which albums have true worth even if no one noticed them at the time. ‘After The Storm’ is exactly the sort of album Alan’s Album Archives lived and breathed for across ten years of Spice Girls, in-jokes, weird youtube videos, confusing April Fool’s Day issues (don’t worry, still one more of those to go next year!) and some truly glorious life-changing music. You may not have read it all – heck, I don’t think even I’ve read it all and I wrote it – but these billions of pages, thousands of posts and ten years of near-constant writing all pretty much add up to what this album is trying to say: that life is hard but it does get better, that you shouldn’t believe everything you hear – especially from politicians, that it is better to love than hate, that ‘time is the final currency’ and precious to quote the CPR song most like this album and that life is easier when you ‘find a dream’. ‘After The Storm’ is a microcosm of everything we ever had to tell you and everything I’ve learnt while writing this website and the thirty books that will hopefully follow it. Thankyou for being there, dear reader, through the good, the bad, the ugly and the Spice Girls jokes, my life will never be quite the same without you to write to every week. Good job I still have all the music to listen to on repeat, eh? Hopefully you do too. We’ll be back with our third essay (on Belle and Sebastian) next week and polish off our run of Neil Young articles and then be back with our annual review of the year before mopping up some extra bits and pieces in the new year. In a very real sense, though, what Alan’s Album Archives was put to do ends right here. And when I got to the end I needed a friend - and that friend was you, however many of these reviews you read across the last decade. Hopefully you’ll remember us with a song in your heart rather than the pain in your ear-drums, the smile we put on your lips as you found something new rather than the strain we caused to your eye-sight, with laughter in your voice rather than an outward groan at a really bad pun and with love in your eyes, now that Alan’s Album Archives has passed you and gone.


A Now Complete List Of CSN/Y and Solo Articles Available To Read At Alan’s Album Archives:



'Crosby, Stills and Nash' (1969)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-29-crosby-stills-and-nash-1969.html

'Deja Vu' (CSNY) (1970)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-34-crosby-stills-nash-and-young.html

‘Stephen Stills’ (1970)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/stephen-stills-1970.html

'If Only I Could Remember My Name' (Crosby) (1971)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-45-david-crosby-if-only-i-could.html

'Songs For Beginners' (Nash) (1971)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-46-graham-nash-songs-for.html

'Stephen Stills II' (1971)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-48-stephen-stills-ii-1971.html
‘Graham Nash, David Crosby’ (1972) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/graham-nash-david-crosby-1972.html

'Stephen Stills-Manassas'  (1972)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-51-stephen-stillsmanassas-1972.html

'Wild Tales' (Nash) (1973)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/news-views-and-music-issue-75-graham.html
'Down The Road' (Stephen Stills/Manassas) (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/stephen-stillsmanassas-down-by-road-1973.html

'Stills' (1975)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/review-65-stephen-stills-stills-1975.html

'Wind On The Water' (Crosby-Nash) (1975)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-67-crosby-nash-wind-on-water.html
'Illegal Stills' (Stills) (1976) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/stephen-stills-illegal-stills-1976.html
'Whistling Down The Wire' (Crosby-Nash) (1976) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/david-crosby-graham-nash-whistling-down.html

'Long May You Run' (Stills-Young) (1976)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/05/news-views-and-music-issue-33-stills.html

'CSN' (1977)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-70-crosby-stills-and-nash-csn.html
'Thoroughfare Gap' (Stills) (1978) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/stephen-stills-thoroughfare-gap-1978.html
'Earth and Sky' (Nash) (1980) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/graham-nash-earth-and-sky-1980.html

'Daylight Again' (CSN) (1982)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/news-views-and-music-issue-131-crosby.html
'Right By You' (Stills) (1984) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/stephen-stills-right-by-you-1984.html
'Innocent Eyes' (Nash) (1986) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/01/graham-nash-innocent-eyes-1986.html
'American Dream' (CSNY) (1988) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/crosby-stills-nash-and-young-american.html

'Oh Yes I Can!' (Crosby) (1989) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2016/07/david-crosby-oh-yes-i-can-1989.html

'Live It Up!' (CSN)  (1989)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/news-viedws-and-music-issue-104-crosby.html

'Stephen Stills Alone' (1991) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.nl/2016/09/stephen-stills-alone-1991.html



'CPR' (Crosby Band) (1998) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/cpr-david-crosby-band-1998.html


‘So Like Gravity (CPR, 2001) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/cpr-just-like-gravity-2001.html

‘Songs For Survivors’ (2002)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/graham-nash-songs-for-survivors-2002.html



'Deja Vu Live' (CD) (2008) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/08/news-views-and-music-issue-1-crosby.html

'Deja Vu Live' (DVD) (2008)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008_09_21_archive.html

'Reflections' (Graham Nash Box Set) (2009)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/02/news-views-and-music-issue-22-graham.html

'Demos' (CSN) (2009)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/08/news-views-and-music-issue-41-crosby.html

'Manassas: Pieces' (2010)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/01/news-views-and-music-issue-52-manassas.html

‘Carry On’ (Stephen Stills Box Set) (2013)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/stephen-stills-carry-on-box-set-2013.html

'Croz' (Crosby) (2014) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/david-crosby-croz-2014album-review.html
'CSNY 74' (Recorded 1974 Released 2014) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/crosby-stills-nash-and-young-csny-74.html

'This Path Tonight' (Nash) (2016) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/graham-nash-this-path-tonight-2016.html



‘Here If You Listen’ (Crosby) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/10/david-crosby-and-friends-here-if-you.html

The Best Unreleased CSNY Recordings http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/csny-best-unreleased-tracks-news-views.html
Surviving TV Appearances (1969-2009) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/csny-surviving-tv-appearances-1969-09.html
Non-Album Recordings (1962-2009) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/crosby-stills-nash-and-sometimes-young_6.html
Live/Compilation/Rarities Albums Part One (1964-1980) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/crosby-stills-nash-and-sometimes-young.html
Live/Compilations/Rarities Albums Part Two (1982-2012) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/crosby-stills-nash-and-sometimes-young_20.html
Essay: The Superest Of Super Groups? https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/01/csny-essay-superest-of-super-groups.html
Five Landmark Concerts and Three Key Cover Versions https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/csny-five-landmark-concerts-and-three.html



Monday, 15 May 2017

Rolling Stones "Voodoo Lounge" (1994)



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The Rolling Stones "Voodoo Lounge" (1994)

Love Is Strong/You Got Me Rocking/Sparks Will Fly/The Worst/New Faces/Moon Is Up/Out Of Tears/I Go Wild/Brand New Car/Sweethearts Together/Suck On The Jugular/Blinded By Rainbows/Baby Break It Down/Thru and Thru/Mean Disposition

'Time's not standing still, so stop looking through those tinted glasses...'

The title evokes the danger of 'Sympathy For The Devil'. The cover art of an alien-looking doodle in a yellow jumpsuit suggested that The Rolling Stones were finally going to make good on the primitivism caveman vibe that Andrew Loog Oldham's publicity brain created for the early Stones. The song titles all feel like they come with exclamation marks even when they don't ('Love Is Strong!' 'Sparks Will Fly!' 'Moon Is Up!' 'Brand New Car! 'Mean Disposition!') suggesting a leaner, meaner Rolling Stones in the wake of Bill Wyman's departure and (officially at least) the reduction of the band to a quartet for the first time in their career. The ever-changing Rolling Stones tongue logo now comes with added spikes, suggesting heavy metal or punk. As it happens 'Voodoo Lounge' is none of these things. Instead it's arguably the first real middle-aged Rolling Stones record, the first point at which they have to prove nothing except their longevity and on which they become an institution rather than the rebels trying to knock it down (which had already been the view of many music-buyers for a decade but becomes wider common knowledge from around this point). The Stones aren't leaner or meaner or anywhere near punk or heavy metal but slowing down, relying on their heritage more than ever before after one last chance to write 'weird' music on the superlative comeback 'Steel Wheels'. The songs are actually (by Stones standards) thought out, polished story-songs where for the first time in aeons the lyrics are (almost) as important as the riff. The closest they get to Voodoo is (Keith's ballad 'Thru and Thru' aside) is stealing the riff from Phil Spector's 'Voo doo Ron Ron'. That caveman doodle is by anime artist Mark Norton, better known for his fantasy work of dragons, sorceresses and weird cyborg hybrids who look not unlike punk versions of an anaemic David Cameron. And the title? Though it roars like a lion it's actually named after a stray cat Keith Richards adopted during his stay in Barbados trying to write songs with Mick. Learning of the cat's rough past which must have claimed at least eight of his nine lives and celebrating the island's vibe of 'voodoo', Keith took the cat's presence as a 'sign' and invited him into his chalet, dubbing the hall he slept in 'Voodoo's Lounge'. A cat outsider who'd been through hell invited into palatial surroundings after a life long lived: that's the 'real' vibe of this album, not the dancing demonic skeletons of the CD booklet.

Whether that's a good or a bad thing depends on what you want and expect from the Rolling Stones thirty-two years into a career nobody expected to last six months. The music critics were all over this album for playing it too 'safe', for not exploring any new ground and for the band being so badly out of touch with any music new bands were making around this time. Admittedly a 'Britpop' style Stones album would have been and might have contributed to a whole new darker London 'spin-off sound' the way the Stones bounced off the original impact of The Beatles/Oasis. But when you take in that any of these new crop of bands included the dreaded Spice Girls and that The Rolling Stones had sounded stupid most of the time during the 1980s when they insisted on still being young and trendy and suddenly that doesn't seem such a bad idea. Mick Jagger, for one, resented the fact that the band were being 'steered' back towards their illustrious past by producer Don Was (with Keith's support) and a few extra edgy songs would have been a nice reminder of just how brave and daring the Stones could be when they wanted to be (another 'Devil' or even another 'Undercover' would have given this album an extra frisson of danger and brought many of the critics and fans back alongside). But the Stones were in a precarious position when they made this album and in context going back to their strengths seems like a wise idea: we're still only a few years on from 'World War III' in which Mick and Keith very nearly ate each other for breakfast - fans were still holding their breath to see if the pair could make it through a second elongated writing session without killing each other. Both Glimmer Twins had made halfway-decent solo records for the first time, with Mick's 'Primitive Cool' and Keith's 'Main Offender' proving that while they might have needed each to be great they could at least be good solo acts. Sales for live album 'Flashpoint' had been, by Stones standards, disappointing (which is what happens when you release your fifth official live album in twenty-nine years and choose to put it out with *that* ugly cover, but never mind). And most of all, Bill is missing.

Ignored for much of the band's career and ridiculed for the rest of it, many fans only took note of Bill once he started being the paparazzi's favourite Stone in the 1980s thanks to his (depending how you read it) sweet innocent and pure/downright evil romance with teenager Mandy Smith, not quite a third of Bill's age when they started seeing each other (it's worth pointing out here that, unlike every other book that castigates Bill as the villain, nobody in this story really got hurt - both still speak fondly of their time together, Mandy calling Bill a 'gentleman' which will be a surprise to anyone who still thinks of the Stones as the anti-christ and the pair ended it when she found someone else; what the papers didn't know - or they'd have had even more of a field-day, was that Bill's son Stephen was at the same time sleeping with Mandy's mum Patsy). However Bill was one of the leading bass player's of his day and perfect for the Stones' sound, offering up a nonchalant groove that along with Charlie's drums helped nail the band's typical groove and which allowed Mick to fly and tethered Keith even more to Earth. Bill had been unhappy for a while and had only really hung around until he had enough money from the most lucrative Stones tour of them all (the 1989-1991 'Urban Jungle' tour) and enough other irons in the fire to keep him busy (his book 'Stone Alone' had just been published, with another about his hobby of meta-detecting on the way, plus early gigs for the Bill Wyman Rhythm Kings and the Wyman-owned 'Sticky Fingers' cafe in London decorated with Stones memorabilia, though sadly no 'tongue' or 'Brown Sugar' on the menu - you can't always get what you want). The others assumed Bill was joking and assumed he's reconvene when the Stones did in 1993 - instead the band had to put out a rather surly press release announcing that the bass player had left and they were looking for a replacement, even though Bill had been telling the world this for two years already. The Stones never quite sound the same again without him and while new bass player Darryl Jones (who plays on all the Stones releases from here-on in) is an excellent find, he's great in a quite different way to Bill and takes the Stones in a whole new direction. Darryl got the job thanks to his gigs for Miles Davis (which impressed Keith for one), but rather sweetly both Glimmer Twins decided to leave the ultimate choice up to Charlie, who never usually got a say in anything, figuring that as half of the rhythm section he deserved the final say-so. Considering that Darryl doesn't often get the job he was hired to (as the title suggests the Stones had a vague idea of turning into more of a 'groove' band) he copes very well indeed, but replacing a founding member is no easy matter and the Stones probably did best to keep as close to their old style as they could for the time being.

In perhaps the opposite problem of 'Steel Wheels' the Stones sound so much better the closer they stay to home - and more and more stupid the further they venture from it. At its best 'Voodoo Lounge' sounds like a great distillation of Stones compilations; if not quite 'TBig Hits, High Tide, Green Grass' then certainly the just-released Virgin era compilation 'Jump Back'. 'Love Is Strong' is the best Stones single in years, a rock song that's got a catchy pop chorus, a memorable blues harmonica part and Mick Jagger singing through a glass, darkly and a clever twist at the end of the song. 'Out Of Tears' is grown-up Stones, one of the most exquisite and moving ballads they ever wrote, trumping even the song it obviously compares to 'As Tears Go By' and features Mick at his most emotionally honest rather than hiding behind a character. 'New Faces' is a sweet reprise of the harpsichord last heard as long ago as 'Lady Jane'. 'Baby Break It Down' is mysterious and emotive, bringing out the best in Jagger's desperate haunted narrator desperate to have a second chance at putting things right. The bittersweet 'Blinded By Rainbows' is a rare look back over the band's collective shoulders (addressed to Bill?) that's easily the best of the band's folk-country songs. 'You Got Me Rocking' and 'I Go Wild' are the best decent no-holds-barred rocker the band have released in some time. Keith's token weepie 'Thru and Thru' belatedly adds the voodoo promise of the title. All of these songs show how great the Stones could sound when they stayed true to their principles but didn't pretend to be young and trendy but instead looked at what being a career-long rebel meant when you reached your fifties. Had the album been released like this, as a great half hour in the LP age, we'd have been talking about an even greater comeback than 'Steel Wheels'.

But this isn't the LP age but the CD age and quantity over quality is suddenly in. 'Voodoo Lounge' really really really didn't need to be an hour. Had the other half of the album been released as B-sides we'd have been rude about The Stones wanting their fans to fork out money for the privilege of owning them going through the motions over and over again on songs so dull you wonder if Bill got an advance copy. Releasing them as album tracks is even more unnecessary. 'Sparks Will Fly' is a song rejected - rejected! - from a Keith Richards solo LP that recounts a fight the guitarist had with Jerry Lee Lewis about how bad his band were playing during early meetings about making an album together (Jerry Lee might have had a point but 'The X-Pensive Winos' were still outplaying The Stones on this track). 'The Worst' is an ugly Keith Richards country ballad whose title is more of an ambition than sarcasm. 'Moon Is Up' is a lot of noisy shouting about nothing with crazy effects that make Mick sound like a robot trapped inside Charlie's drumkit. 'Brand New Car' must be the single worst and most pointless AAA car song of them all - and boy have we had some bad ones, from The Kinks to The Beach Boys (repeat offenders). 'Suck On The Jugular' shows why Mick should never, ever be allowed to think he can compete with 'contemporary' bands a quarter of his age (especially when a record like 'Voodoo Lounge' takes so long to make this music is at least five albums out of date by the time the record finally comes out; and that's me being generous - arguably Sly And The Family Stone had been doing this sort of thing for a quarter century by this time). And the closing number 'Mean Disposition' must be the weakest most anti-climactic end to a Stones album since...well 'Sleep Tonight' two albums ago as it happens, but it's a measure of how much more we were expecting from The Stones in 1994 that this weak record suddenly seemed a million years ago. What impressed most about 'Steel Wheels' was its consistency, with most songs sounding great and the few that didn't at least sounding weird and that was worth a celebration in itself after so many years of sleep-strutting. 'Voodoo Lounge' has far better songs in many ways - but also plenty of worse ones as well, a pattern that's sadly repeated for the next two over-long Stones studio sets to come too.

It's probably not a coincidence that the majority of the songs that work best have The Stones' characters as middle-aged strugglers looking back on a dangerous life well-lived and full of knocks and bruises but also a lot of wicked fun, while the songs that don't work mostly just have the band pretending to be young. There's a real emotional core to the best of this album that's rare for a band this famously misogynistic and Mick's at his best in decades when the material gives him space for this. 'Love Is Strong' features him right there on the edge and was a braver choice for a single than many people recognised at the time, playing a 'losing' character so different to his usual swaggering style. 'Blinded By Rainbows' wonders out loud whether this could be the 'last time', with a powerful lyric about aging and losing enthusiasm before finally swatting fears aside by recounting the joy the band still feel and chuckling 'I doubt it!' Even though this was a rare case of a quiet period on both Mick and Keith's (and even Ronnie's!) marital fronts, they still conjure up two of their most mature love songs about how difficult it is to keep romance alight on 'Baby Break It Down' and the exquisite 'Out Of Tears', the single best Stones song in twenty years. 'Thru and Thru' has Keith desperately waiting for a call from his girl, forgotten and on the shelf, the complete opposite of the swaggering macho males of 'Between The Buttons' era Stones. These characters are different to most Stones characters in that they actually get hurt, worry and doubt themselves and feel guilt. We've never had that on a Stones album before in quite such quantity and that alone makes 'Voodoo Lounge' a great Stones record, far more inventive and daring than anyone assumed at the time. It's the surrounding songs where the band pretend they're nineteen and out on the pull where things get silly and take attention away from the more subtle gems at the heart of this album.

Thankfully, unlike the albums before and after, this is also the one Stones album post 1960s that sounds (more or less) as if it could have been recorded in that decade, in terms of pure sound quality. Don Was isn't the most natural Stones producer, despite getting a constant gig with the band from 1989 to date, preferring effects over playing, overdubs to rawness and drums over anything else in the band it seems. But he gets the balance right for this album, more so than all the others: there are no cringe-worthy hip-hop moments, the four Stones all get time and space to prove just what they can do given half a chance (Mick's harmonica playing, only heard occasionally on recent Stones albums, is integral to this one and quite right too - the band should never have taken it out of their natural sound!) and the drum effects only happen on the 'nothing' songs where they could have added The Spice Girls and it couldn't have made the tracks any worse anyway. Those years of increasingly desperate attempts to re-create Jimmy Miller's blurry productions from the 1970s using high-definition 1980s equipment that emphasises everything are long gone and The Stones also sound as if they're a band here, even if they continued to cobble these recordings together from overdubs in many cases (you can tell when the band are playing live as that's when Charlie springs to live, such as 'Mean Disposition' which is a great recording which almost rescues a truly terrible song).

Overall, then, there's not much voodoo magic on this album and there's a lot of lounging around going on too, but there is also a lot of hard work and love and care that makes the best of this album genius and the worst of it almost palatable (which is no mean feat on songs like 'Brand New Car' and 'Suck On The Jugular'). You can tell, in many respects, that The Stones have just signed a mega-million-bucks contract with Richard Branson's imprint 'Virgin Records' as the band have never sounded more like an institution, going some way to re-creating their past and offering occasional nods as to what the kids of the day want to hear. This was arguably the first Stones project planned from the first as a multi-corporate deal including a mega tour (booked, so legend has it, before the band had even recorded a note), tie-in live album (another one, though at least 'Stripped' came with a difference) and promotional T-shirt. What goes inside the packaging is, for the first time absolutely, less important than what was outside it or the fact that product existed at all. However there are enough cynical critics who leap down of the throat of everything on these albums because they weren't being made by a band who are young with something to prove. The Stones could never be that again and had never pretended not to be interested in taking our hard-earned cash if we were stupid enough to part with it on twelve variations of the record with different tongue logos or souvenir programmes with ugly fuzzy out-of-focus shots of the band. The wonder in many ways is that the Stones still cared enough to make half a decent product sometimes and you can tell too that the band are still having fun making music and still have a lot to say - if not quite an hour's worth. If the worst of this album ends up making the best of this album sound less amazing than it should do, then remember that the Stones could have made this album all-bad and it still would have sold bucketloads with the tour pre-booked and Virgin's promotional budget behind the band. This CD is worth the price for 'Out Of Tears' alone, although unfortunately you were probably out of money given how much this disc used to cost when new and out of patience by the end of the other fourteen highly variable songs that come with it. Still, though, whoever said you can't teach an old Rolling Stone new tricks was missing the point that this band should never, ever have been encouraged to learn new tricks in the first place when they could still do the old ones so well. In other words, it's a draw and this album still gets me...half-satisfaction?

'Love Is Strong' is the old Stones - bluesy, moody and magnificent and Mick Jagger whispering in your ear like the lothario he is. The Stones sound for the first time since 'Some Girls' as if they really know what they're doing here and play with confidence and panache, with a swagger that no other band can manage. And then there's that twist (look away if you don't want to spoil it...) 'You make me hard, you make me weak' splutters Mick in his sexiest voice, dropping double entendres with every strut. And then he drops the bombshell: 'And some day baby we got to meet!' What sounds like the sexiest chat-up line this side of 'Wild Horses' turns out to be a song by a shy boy whose acting all this out in his head and couldn't possibly go up to a girl and ask her out. The hint in the song is that he knows her really well - they've clearly shared some time together since a 'stranger's glance', so it's not as if he hasn't had the chance. And there's an even more subtle hint (well, by Stones standards) that he's a stalker and has been following her around 'seedy bars', obsessed. So far the song has played it cool and cautious, with Mick's husky voice so low in the mix you're all but forced to turn the song up but then finally the song climaxes on a pained middle eight that finds him roaring with every plea, bargain and cliché he can think of: this is 'more than just a dream', it's fate and they'd surely 'make a beautiful team'. But even with all this emotion and some great huffing puffing harmonica Jagger's character is destined to remain forever a solo act. It's a powerful moment that at once sounds very Stonesy and yet not at all like their usual confident selves at all, an 'acting' job at their usual arrogance that makes this a lot more likeable than their usual unthinking selves. The whole band play great, with Darryl Jones' first recorded bass notes amongst his best as a kind of harbinger of doom, while Keith's guitar glimmers and shines and Charlie sounds as close to desperation and frustration as a drummer as controlled as he is ever can. And then there's Jagger, at the top of his game, living this song and pouring his heart out. Outtakes from the sessions reveal an even better take with a full minute-long busked ending full of yelps, cries and howls as Mick breaks down in character before the song suddenly collapses. Even when tidied up and shrunk for compensation on the album it sounds a lot more 'real' than usual. 'Voodoo Lounge' is off to a cracking start and it's surely only the changing way the record market worked in 1994 that left this first single from the album only a middle-seller.

'You Got Me Rocking' has already won points from the title which seems such an obvious Stones-ism (referring to sex, drugs and rock and roll all in one!) it's amazing they hadn't used it before. It's another strong rocker, this one dispensing with the cool and going for an all-out attack. Keith's riff is one of his better modern-day variations on 'Satisfaction' and sounds better than usual too, played with extra distortion (credited as 'mystery guitar' on the sleeve); Charlie too really swings on a song much closer to his first love of jazz than the average Stones number; while Ronnie's guitar solo is one of his best, flying cleanly and soaring Mick Taylor style where Keith's part is all jagged edges. The lyric has clearly been pasted on afterwards and runs out of things to say early, but even that has its moments as Mick throws in a whole list of metaphors about how his life has been turned upside down. Along the way he plays a butcher, a surgeon, a baseball pitcher (a sign of how American the Stones had become by 1994), a boxer, a writer, a tycoon 'drowning in debt'  and even a 'hooker losing her looks' (presumably the 'candle-stick maker' was a verse that got cut!) The theme is that love can mess you up whoever you and whatever you do - every time the narrators think they've got life sussed and can live a nice quiet love in comes that feeling in their heart and they're hypnotised by another beauty. It's more of a performance than a song, but there are enough ideas and enough commitment in the band to get them through in fine rocking style.

'Sparks Will Fly' is disappointing though - cheaply because they don't. Keith wrote the song single-handed for his 'Main Offender' album and you can tell - he's missing Mick's clever and natural way with words. More surprising is how weak his central riff is - indeed there really isn't one, with Charlie offering the most melodic momentum from his tightly controlled cymbal crashes. The song is also kind of ugly, as befits a song written for such an ugly occasion. Keith was stuck how to make his album without Mick so started off by sounding off some of his friends and heroes for lots of impersonal writing sessions around his beach house. The 1950s piano legend Jerry Lee Lewis got a call and in typical rock star fashion assumed that Keith was going to collaborate on a full LP with him and he'd be the only star there. He turned up, tried to fire the house band (who were only there to jam) and Keith still didn't let on what his plans for the album really were. The pair rowed, Jerry Lee left, Keith shrugged his shoulders and wrote a song about the clash - which of course every reviewer assumed was really about him and Mick (sometimes it pays writing these reviews so long after the event giving people time to talk about them - I confess I fell in that trap too!) However it's a storm in a tea-cup by Stones standards, with the anger Keith felt while writing it long gone by the time he reaches the guitar part and Mick not really that interested in a song that only carried his name thanks to the Jagger-Richards pact that they both get credit on each other's songs regardless of who wrote them. The Stones sound incredibly bored and play very sloppily and indifferently (the tone is set by somebody dropping something - a maraca? - at the start of the recording), while the lyrics are some of the dumbest heard on any Stones song ('You better stand back, the flames are high, bells going to ring hear the alarm, better tell the fire chief to stop playing cards'). It's also very Stones to go from juvenile ('Better step on the gas!') to stupid ('Gotta get there real fast!') to sexual ('Going to f*#k your sweet ass!') in the space of three lines, none of them at all relevant to the song.

Keith Richards then ambles in to tell us he's 'The Worst'. He's being a bit unfair - this is a better song than the last one for sure - but not by much. There are some fans who swear by the Keith ballads on the modern Stones CDs but the problem is most of them sound like the same song recycled. That's especially true for this one, which sounds like the worst parts of 'Sleep Tonight' 'Slipping Away' and 'Break The Spell' all stuck together with the melody taken out. Certainly compared back to back with the similar country-rock songs Keith was writing in his Gram Parsons friendship heyday (1971 or so) it's a nothing song: Keith's narrator feels guilty, he wanted to treat his wife better, but this is how he was born, 'you shouldn't put your trust in me' etc etc. The standard thing you get in country songs where no dogs die and no shotgun weddings take place. That's no good is it? We want change and proof of change or proper guilt, not this 'take me as I am even though I'm rubbish' business. Keith sings this song really oddly too, sometimes from the heart, sometimes with a twinkle in his voice as if he's poking fun at himself but mostly as if he's reading the words for the first time and hasn't got a clue what they mean, which is odd given that he wrote most of them (even Mick isn't brave enough to write Keith a song titled 'The Worst'!) A low-key backing track is most memorable for the out-of-tune violin from 'fastest fiddle player in the world' (according to the Guinness Book Of World Records) Frankie Gavin, who adds an Irish lilt to a song that really doesn't need one.

'New Faces' is a slight improvement in the same way that having a broken arm is a slight improvement over having a broken leg. Mick whispers the count-in, leading you to expect either a demented wild rocker or a soft, sweet acoustic number. What we get is a noisy acoustic number, one that stars Chuck Leavell playing the sort of harpsichord colour part Brian Jones would once have played. The song is a bit of a throwback too, with the sort of vibe of B-sides 'The Singer Not The Song' and 'The Spider and The Fly' and a very sweet, very innocent, 1960s style melody hat recalls 'Lady Jane' (especially with the harpsichord). It's nice to hear The Stones visiting their dim and distant past and they just about get away with turning the clock back to the point where they could sing about teenage crushes rather than mortgages. 'There's a new guy in town' sighs Mick,  insecure enough to know his girl is probably going to fall for him as he's young, has deep blue eyes and his skin 'shines as much as his hair' (hmm, sounds like an alien to me!) By the end of the song he realises that he's moaning to an empty room, that his girlfriend 'has swallowed the bait and gone', but that he might be saved heartbreak down the line if she's really that fickle. It's hard to believe this naive song comes from the same band that have already sung the knowing 'You Got Me Rocking' never mind 'Sympathy For The Devil' and the glee in Mick's voice suggests he's not taking the track terribly seriously, but if you can suspend your belief and go back in time and treat it like a 1960s outtake it sounds OK. Better than the last two songs anyway but, truly, this is B-side material, nothing more.

'Moon Is Up' is the one song on the album that works had to go somewhere a bit different to normal. Unfortunately for us where it goes is back to mid-1980s production heavy pop and the result comes over as perhaps the most Stock-Aitken-Waterman that Jagger-Richards ever get. Don Was in his element, doing what he normally does to all of his regular charges (such as his own band Was Not Was and Brian Wilson among others) but rarely gets away with doing to the Stones: treating them as a 'vibe' band whose music can be hidden behind the relentless production techniques that makes Mick sound as if he's singing underwater, Keith sound as if he's playing down a crackly telephone line, Ronnie's pedal steel sounds as if he's strangling a cat and Charlie (playing what's listed in the credits as 'mystery drum') sound as if he's playing from the dark side of the moon! Only Darryl's bass sounds anything like it usually does. Which kinda fits for a song that's all about life being topsy turvy, but is also way way too distracting for what's actually quite a simple song. The lyric - and the riff a little bit - sounds like a twenty-six-year delayed 'reply' to The Beatles' 'Dear Prudence', one where everything is in reverse - for the badder, madder Stones who feel the darker side of life more, it's the 'moon' that's up and the 'sun' that's down. However, sadly, rather than a song about voodoo or werewolves this ends up being just another average number about lost love: 'We are worlds apart, you see' sighs Mick as he wonders 'where are you now?' and imagines the state of his feelings reflected in the sky, the sun hiding behind shadows and the man in the moon shedding a reflective tear. This is a second straight lyric that seems oddly naive by Stones standards and sadly doesn't go anywhere after some nice opening lines.

In stark contrast 'Out Of Tears' is the album and second-half-of-career highlight and shows just how well The Stones could do naive if they wanted to. The best of a fine string of ballads that run back to 'Angie' 'Sister Morphine' and 'As Tears Go By', this song is a thirty-years-on sequel to the latter, the narrator no longer cool and dispassionate as yet another romance dies out. Mick and guest pianist Chuck Leavell both excel themselves, conjuring up a world where again everything is wrong and nothing is right, eerily familiar and yet so different now Mick is facing it alone. Mick's mute, paralysed, having a panic attack and struggling to breathe now that his lover has left him. But equally he's been through heartbreak so many times by now in later life that he's numb for real this time. Suddenly this shy, scared little song, with Mick admitting that never again will he risk this pain or 'pour my heart out to another thing' betrays him. One of the strongest Stones choruses in years comes out from behind the clouds and shows that Mick is wrong, that he's emotionally broken and passionate even when he swears that 'I won't cry, my eyes are dry'. This is a narrator whose only pretending to be a rock, to be an island and thereafter every line gives him away as he 'drifts' and 'dreams', struggling to come to terms with a loss that's clearly hit him hard. The real gem on this song though is the melody, which is exquisite, the sound of a wounded album being slowly coaxed out of its cage so that you know by the time of the third straight chorus repeat that he'll be back out into the world and trying for love again. Still, the pain is real and actually at odds with the timing - it's at one with the agonised Jagger break-up songs with Jerry Hall from a few years later but here back when their marriage is heading for its 15th anniversary is at best a dress rehearsal for those songs. Musically the highlight is one of Ronnie's best moments with the band, a pedal steel solo that, fully in keeping with the song, is a noisy and wild rock and roll solo that comes from nowhere despite being played in the usual muted country-rock laidback style. Everything in this song is much the same as normal, except different - which works well on a song that's about exactly that feeling; luckily for us (for now) that includes the quality with 'Out Of Tears' a song as strong as any ballad in the Stones canon and at long last sung from the heart.

So far the only traditionally lurid and hard-edged Stones songs that have worked that well are the opening two. Thankfully side two starts with 'I Go Wild' which adds a third, a song that couldn't be more template Stones if it came with a nervous breakdown or a step off of a cloud. Admittedly the style is closer to 1980s Stones than 1960s or 1970s but even there it comes off better than almost anything the band actually did in that decade ('Start Me Up' and 'One Hit To The Body?') with a cracking variant on the 'Satisfaction' riff, all tightly knit energy and hurt, and another more emotional than average lyric. You know how sticks and stones can break bones but words can never hurt? Not here, not when the narrator's loved one is getting physical as she gets angry, 'in my face' and pushing buttons designed to hurt. Mick tries hard to keep his feelings in check but is pushed to breaking point even while he sounds regretful about retaliating at all, which makes for a much more likeable and believable variation on the band's usual misogynistic sound than their usual fare. In a twist on 'Midnight Rambler' it's the narrator whose been 'whipped' (albeit verbally), whose the 'hurting' victim and who is himself the slave (not 'Brown Sugar'), all because of a 'poisoned kiss' he badly regrets. Even so, the narrator is trapped, unable to function without his abusive lover, a 'raggedy dog in the streets' (not the resilient stray cat 'Voodoo'). By the middle of the song the abuse is so bad he's left in hospital on life support, having come off worst in a row and the hint is that as the male in the relationship it's him who gets the 'blame' amongst family and friends both for having attacked a woman (even in self-defence) and for coming off worse.  This is another of those Stones narrators who just can't win and offers us a long line of women he's going to stay away from for the forseeable future: 'femme fatales, dirty bitches, daylight drabs, night-time witches, working girls, dance hall babes, waitresses, 'checkout girls striking poses' and most memorably 'politician's wives', perhaps remembering how much trouble Mick got into when allegedly having an affair with Canadian president Trudeau's first wife Margaret. This song could have been just another shouty Stones number but is given more time energy and effort than most, especially the stunning 'a capella break' near he end of the song when the narrator apparently loses it for good.

Alas there's almost no effort at all spent on 'Brand New Car', which is a broken-down and secondhand jalopy even for a genre not exactly known for its invention. The Stones try to cook up a groove akin to The Beach Boys but as it's played slower and darker loses all point. Mick's boastful unlikeable narrator boasting about his motor also sounds in need of a good slap, quite frankly.  Mick lives to dive his brand new car 'real hard' and takes cute looking hitch-hikers for a 'friendly spin'. In a repeat of (yet another) Beatles reference 'Drive My Car' his latest conquest is a star whose broken down out there on the road - cue endless innuendoes about Mick thinking her 'slinky as a panther, listen to her engine purr' and wanting to 'open up her hood' and 'check if her oil smells good'. personally I'd go with the final lyric which reckons 'I should stop and park', but not for the reasons Mick's leering narrator imagines but because this is all complete and utter derivative rubbish, way below the band's usual standards even towards the end of their career. Only David McMurray's sleepy saxophone really catches the ear and even that is a part that would have been better played by old ostracised friend Bobby Keyes, surely? The album's lowest moment - and boy is that saying something!
'Sweethearts Together' is another sweet and innocent backlash about a cute ideal romance that sounds like an early one - a teenage crush or close. The pair of lovers look forward to a long life of happiness together with all those decades stretching out before them and strong enough together that nothing can break them at all. Many reviewers compare this song to The Beatles' 'Two Of Us' with it's Mick n Keith harmonies round the same microphone vibe, but actually it stretches back further to be the single closest song to a 'Merseybeat ballad' (think 'This Boy' or 'If I Fell') in the Stones canon - thirty years too late! There's no way we can forget the leering narrator of the last song (or indeed the past few decades) so the song doesn't quite come over as innocently as it needs to in order to work and the arrangement is pretty ropey as played here, with Charlie's drums way too loud and an accordion oddly floating its way through the mix to no great end result really. This is a song that would have fared a lot better had The Stones parked it to a singer with a more innocent reputation (as per Marianne Faithful of 1964/1965) complete with 'sha-wah-wahs', although of course if they had no one would ever have believed this was really a 'Stones' song. Ronnie gets his pedal steel out of it's case again, but to a far lesser result this time around.

'Suck On The Jugular' is such a Stones number from the title on down, but sadly that's the problem - you know exactly where a song like this is going to go and even a bigger (and louder!) part for Charlie than normal can't hide the fact that this is empty filler. 'All get together and feel alright!' slurs Mick, trying to reprise his old 'Miss You' disco vibe for a hip-hop generation, but the closest he can come is noisy thrashful Sly and the Family Stone, without the groove or the wit. The narrator's on a dancefloor, 'lying low' to stalk out the chicks and staying single but he's a 'man not a machine' and he goes into first gear when he sees a girl he fancies. Feeling like a vampire, he feels the bloodlust coming over him as he prepares to kiss - a violent kiss judging by the title. That's it, really, with the Stones content to let the groove play away while Mick barks 'Let's go!' and 'ah-ha!' endlessly over the top. Much more impressive is his bluesy mouthorgan playing which turns this stupid contemporary song in contemporary clothing into a successor (of sorts) to the blues. 'Watch me blow and self-destruct!' mocks Mick at the end - and he's not kidding!

'Blinded By Rainbows' doesn't quite come off either, but at least you can't accuse this complex song of repeating old ground. On first hearing it's another song of lost and failed love, the narrator 'feeling the knife' 'counting the cost' and 'hiding away' so he won't get hurt again. But a quick flick over the opening verse makes this song sound more like a Christian rock song, opening with the line 'Did you ever feel the pain he felt upon the cross?' and wondering about the merits of self-sacrifice. Apparently the song is even more complex than that, inspired by one of several IRA bombings in England and Ireland in this period (for a quick run-down for those not from the area the IRA are a 'breakaway' group who disagree with being governed by an English parliament that took them over by force, established a tax system and largely abandoned the inhabitants during several hunger crisis while expecting them to still serve British interests in the army, leaving the country literally divided with a line between Southern and Northern Ireland; by the same token though people have been horrified at the extreme and gory tactics used to breakup what was by the 1970s a generally peaceful coexistence; it's a complex matter that had been rumbling since the early 1970s when two ex-Beatles and Lindisfarne weighed in on the Irish side). It's a kind of sequel to 'Street Fighting Man' then, about how a sleepy Irish town won't ever explode into full scale anarchy even though morally perhaps they should, but seems ambiguous about its political feelings (and as innocent as it can be, not even mentioning Ireland by name anywhere, which made the whole thing kind of pointless as a protest song until the Stones began talking it up in interviews for the album). Mick comes out on the side of the IRA to some extent, seeing the bomber blowing himself up as a 'martyr' and wondering what goes through his head, with the politicians after a peaceful agreement 'blinded by rainbows' and hope of a better life, conned into handing over so much power that wasn't theirs to give. But then comes the rejoinder, as Mick goes on to imagine the bomber 'imagining the screams' of the innocent people he kills along with him, 'their limbs torn up' and even this blood-lusting band think that's a price too far, wondering how terrorists 'sleep at night' and whether they see their 'final hour' as 'just another job'. Mick's conclusion: 'Paradise is lost' and no one is going to take such a blood-curdling act of revenge properly. It would be easier to take this song at face value as a serious protest had the band a) stuck to their guns and come out on one side or another b) hadn't offered the clumsy rhyme 'Rainbows' with 'Windows' for no apparent reason and c) sung 'Rahhhhhnbowwwws' in exactly the same tongue-in-cheek way heard on 'She's A Rainbow' from a full twenty-seven years earlier. The melody isn't as strong as the words either and even those are more ambitious and daring than actually good. Did the band spend as long thinking about this song I have? I doubt it!

'Baby Break It Down' is a classy, overlooked song though in the Stones' mould. Keith's latest 'Satisfaction' variation is paranoid and sinister, picked up on by a Mick lyric that has him wondering if his relationship is over and concluding that he's still, prepared to fight and that they have 'along way to go', in his head at least. Mick sounds resigned, howling 'long way down' as if he's falling through a trap door and singing with a sad shake of the head. However this is more than your average break-up song: what exactly does that title mean? 'Break It Down' suggests the narrator wants to put an end to a partnership (maybe even the Jagger-Richards one given their recent feuding?) but this song is trying to build the couple back up again. What the narrator seems to mean is that the couple should 'break down' what is good about their relationship and hang on to it, but never quite comes out and says it so what we have is a song of mixed messages, a song that tries so hard to be upbeat and happy (this could easily have been a typical joyful Stones adrenalin rush if played a little faster) and tries to put things right but secretly knows things are doomed. Mick admits the relationship is too 'fragile to touch' and wonders 'why does one of us have to be the boss?' but still he won't take his own advice, give in and let his girl have her way. Fearing an inevitable split, Mick tries to get his partner to join him in 'putting your love around' the crack in the wall, all the while Keith is trying his best to angrily split chunks out of that riff. A clever twist on the usual Stones fare this, well played by a band who are back to meaning what they're saying once again.

'Thru and Thru' is a sleepy Keith Richards ballad that as usual sounds somehow separate from the rest of the album, as if it's working to a completely different time-scale, floating away on a cloud rather than pouncing on prey like so many Stones songs. That's particularly apt given that Keith is lonely and desperate 'for a call from you', time standing still as she's so busy she hasn't got a second but he's got all the time to agonise over what that missed call might symbolise. Keith opens the song with a joke, claiming he's open '24 hours' and 'we even do takeaways' before sticking the knife in that there's no reason not to call: 'I'm an open book' and 'I'm even in the Yellow Pages' (a British telephone directory for business - and yes, it really is printed on yellow paper; it was the cheapest colour to print after white, the paper used for residential listings. I bet they go through a lot of ink cartridges in their building!) So far so good, with this again oddly sweet and innocent song (the old Stones would have assumed she was up to all sorts of mischief and got up to his own in revenge!) possessing a sweet, laidback melody that really stands out on this album. But then things go wrong - and noisy - as Keith explodes in fury, expecting a call 'any day now, any hour' and throwing a tantrum when it doesn't arrive. In truth it's just an excuse to make up for the fact that song doesn't have a real ending and simply repeats everything we've just heard in angrier, spikier tones. Also, maybe Keith's narrator might have had better luck had he, you know, learnt to spell, with the title a clear throwback to 'Slade', for no apparent reason (which is also why we're re-branding as 'Alahn's Crazee Arkives!' first thing tomorrow).Oddly the main guitar lead isn't by Keith or even by Ronnie but by guest Pierre De Beauport (usually their roadie credited for 'technical support' on the sleeve), even though it's a part both Stones could have handled quite easily (Mick too, to be honest). Which is a nice gesture I suppose - how many roadies can say they've played with their main band (and we won't mention The Byrds' song by and about roadies 'B B Class Road' if you don't!)

The album then ends on an odd note with 'Mean Disposition'. It's not a bad song, bluesier than most recent Stones originals but very much in that line of their traditional numbers but it's an average filler song, not a natural album closer and particularly for an album this long. It's much like the covers the band will return to on 'Blue and Lonesome' in 2016 but to be honest not even that good - you know where this song is going from the opening verse and the Stones sound as if they've been playing it all day, losing any of the spontaneity they need to make a track this simple work this well. You can probably work out where this song is going from the title: the narrator's girl is rude and surly and has always been like this (so why marry her in the first place then?) The only really ear-catching moment is the last of the great Keith Richards Chuck Berry guitar breaks, duck-walking across the speakers like the clock has been turned back forty years. Chuck would never have written a song this simple or without a sting in the tail though with the song's awkward lines 'I'm standing my ground, like Davy Crockett at the Alamo' a strange way for such a British (ie polite!) blues song to round off. Mick slurs that 'I'm going to work on you the way you worked on me!' and promises to 'put you in my sights'. But somehow, unlike so many previous songs (including 'Love Is Strong' if seen in the right light) he doesn't sound at all threatening and comes over more as a pussycat, 'under the thumb' of his missus. Which doesn't sound much like the Stones at all.


But then, they've only sounded like The Stones on the surface of this album anyway. That's what's surprising about 'Voodoo Lounge' - it sounds like an album that's only content to go over the past, but then it hits you that by going so far back into the past this album is actually much braver than if The Stones had simply done what they tried (and largely failed) to do during the 1980s and recorded what everyone else was doing, only worse. Maybe this record might have been better had it come with more of the voodoo groove vibe hinted at by the title and cover art and requested by Mick. Maybe it would have been worse though - at least the Stones know how to make these songs sound good, well some of the time, even if a few of them are only distant memories by now. The result is a strange album, with a little bit of everything, the good the bad and the ugly. When this album is good it's very very good - and when it's bad it's awful. Sometimes the Stones are stirred by memories of their past to return to the days when they effortlessly wrote hits all the time  and come up with half an album that's their best in years, better even perhaps than 'Steel Wheels' their best for a very long time ('Some Girls' in 1978?) Sometimes the band sound so incompetent you wonder if they can tie their own shoelaces. For the first time, but not the last sadly, the extended length of the CD is really working against the Stones and leaves them struggling to fill a full hour's worth of material, with six, maybe seven great tracks and eight slices of nothing. It's a rollercoaster ride then, not a lounge of a listen but not really voodoo either with the album sound and packaging giving us two entirely different vibes. The songs too don't cover a single mood the way the band usually do, all upbeat or all dark and brooding. The sound  an album that doesn't know whether to kiss or kill you, often on the same track - which maybe in retrospect maybe this is the most Stones album of them all! The Stones will get slightly more consistent than this on their next two albums but also never reach this album's peak, with the band's last 'big bangs' all here. 

A Now Complete List Of Rolling Stones and Related Articles To Read At Alan’s Album Archives:

'No 2' (1965) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/the-rolling-stones-no-2-1965.html

'Out Of Our Heads' (1965) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/the-rolling-stones-out-of-our-heads-1965.html

‘Aftermath’ (1966) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/the-rolling-stones-aftermath-1966.html

'Between The Buttons' (1967) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-9-rolling-stones-between-buttons.html

'Their Satanic Majesties Request' (1967)  http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-16-rolling-stones-their-satanic.html

'Beggar's Banquet' (1968) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-26-rolling-stones-beggars.html

‘Let It Bleed’ (1969) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/08/the-rolling-stones-let-it-bleed-1969.html

'Sticky Fingers' (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/rolling-stones-sticky-fingers-1971.html

'Exile On Main Street'(1972) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/05/news-views-and-music-issue-61-rolling.html

'Goat's Head Soup' (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-58-rolling-stones-goats-head.html

'It's Only Rock 'n' Roll' (1974) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-rolling-stones-its-only-rock-and.html

'Black and Blue' (1976) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/the-rolling-stones-black-and-blue-1976.html

'Some Girls' (1978) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/05/news-views-and-music-issue-30-rolling.html

'Emotional Rescue' (1980) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/the-rolling-stones-emotional-rescue-1980.html


'Undercover' (1983) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/rolling-stones-undercover-1983-album.html

'Dirty Work' (1986) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/the-rolling-stones-dirty-work-1986.html

'Steel Wheels' (1989)http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/09/news-views-and-music-issue-113-rolling.html

‘Voodoo Lounge’ (1994) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/rolling-stones-voodoo-lounge-1994.html

'Bridges To Babylon' (1998) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/the-rolling-stones-bridges-to-babylon.html

'A Bigger Bang' (2005) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/the-rolling-stones-bigger-bang-2005.html

Ronnie Wood and Bill Wyman's Rhythm Kings Solo http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/a-short-aaa-guide-to-ronnie-wood-and.html

Rolling Stones: Unreleased Recordings
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/another-journey-through-past-darkly.html

Surviving TV Clips and Music Videos http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-rolling-stones-surviving-tv-clips.html

Non-Album Recordings Part One 1962-1969 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/01/rolling-stones-non-album-songs-part-one.html

Non-Album Recordings Part Two 1970-2014 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-rolling-stones-non-album-songs-part.html

Live/Solo/Compilations Part One 1963-1974 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-rolling-stones-livesolocompilationa.html 

Live/Solo/Compilations Part Two 1975-1988 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-rolling-stones-livesolocompilation.html