Posts Tagged ‘Art Garfunkel’

CHART ATTACK!: 11/3/73

Folks, I’ll be the first to tell you that our last CHART ATTACK! was just a little depressing. Marky Mark? Ugh! Color Me Badd? Ugggggh! Bryan Adams? Uggggggghhhh!  Good news, though: I’m pleased to report that this week’s Top 10 is much, much better — sure, there are some mild clunkers, but the majority of these songs are absolutely fantastic. See if you agree as we attack November 3, 1973!

10. All I Know — Garfunkel   null
9. Space Race — Billy Preston
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8. Let’s Get It On — Marvin Gaye null
7. Ramblin’ Man — The Allman Brothers Band null
6. Heartbeat – It’s a Lovebeat — The DeFranco Family Featuring Tony DeFranco
5. Paper Roses — Marie Osmond
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4. Half-Breed — Cher null
3. Keep On Truckin’ (Part 1) — Eddie Kendricks null
2. Angie — The Rolling Stones null
1. Midnight Train to Georgia — Gladys Knight & the Pips null

10. All I Know — Garfunkel (download)

Following the breakup of Simon & Garfunkel in 1970, Art Garfunkel removed his focus from the music business; for three years, he focused on his acting career, appearing in Mike Nichols movies such as Catch-22 and Carnal Knowledge, taught mathematics at a private school in Connecticut, and studied classical music in Europe. Finally, in 1973, he assembled a group of songwriters (what, you thought he was going to write songs himself?) and recorded songs for a new album, entitled Angel Clare. The first single, “All I Know,” was written by Jimmy Webb (the first of many Garfunkel/Webb collaborations) and was his first solo entry on the Top 10 — and by “first,” I mean “only,” though he did have three #1 hits on the Adult Contemporary charts. The song is exactly what you’d expect: musically, it’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” minus the bridge or troubled water, and lyrically, it’s deep into Mellow Gold territory. Art’s voice sounds a touch creepy here on the original, especially any time he gets near a low note. Still, it’s quite pretty, and you really can’t go wrong with songs like these, especially ones that feature Webb’s beautiful piano. The only thing I don’t understand is why, for his first few albums, Art was only billed as “Garfunkel.” Was he concerned that if he added the “Art,” people wouldn’t know who he was? How many Garfunkels are out there, really? If he wanted to capitalize on familiarity, perhaps he should have billed himself as “& Garfunkel.”

I found a nice video of Art Garfunkel performing “All I Know” on Saturday Night Live, but it’s on a Chinese website and I can’t figure out how to embed it. Still, it’s worth a watch; the song is much more effective in this stripped-down incarnation.

9. Space Race — Billy Preston

I personally had never heard “Space Race” before this week, but if you watched American Bandstand regularly, chances are you’ll recognize it as the music played during the mid-show commercial break, from 1974 until the show’s end. It worked great for that purpose, too — a sequel of sorts to 1972’s “Outa-Space,” “Space Race” is a thick slab of instrumental funk with a fantastic groove. But here’s the thing: on American Bandstand, you never got to hear more than a few seconds of the song. At around a minute and a half, it becomes pretty clear that a better title would have been “Holy Crap You Guys, I Just Got a New Keyboard and Look at All the Cool Sounds I Can Make, Wah Wah Wah Wah!” I can’t help but wonder if this song is what inspired Daryl Dragon to buy a Casio, and that just breaks my heart. Still, I can’t give Billy Preston too much grief. Apart from having the world’s greatest afro, the man was an unbelievable talent. And who doesn’t love the hell out of “Nothing From Nothing”?

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CD Review: Maia Sharp, “Echo”

Maia Sharp, Echo (2009, Crooked Crown Records)
Purchase this album (Amazon)

I distinctly recall the first time I heard Maia Sharp sing. It was the summer of 1997, and I was driving down a steep hill in Steelton, PA, on the way to the regular Tuesday night acoustic gig my buddy Jim and I did at the late, great Flight Deck in Middletown. I was thinking about the night’s set when a voice came through my radio (tuned to WXPN), telling a fugitive tale:

I left the town that was my future
To ride along with you
You said, “I’m going to California”
So I was going to California, too
You get a thrill from causing trouble
Life has offered nothing more
So we kept it to the back roads
Looking for an easy score
I need this to be love

The lyrics, as I could make them out then, were immediately compelling, but even more compelling was the voice—definitely female, but with a character that I, to this day, have trouble describing to people. I wind up explaining it away as a thickness, a sense of density, something with weight and sexiness and beauty. The song, “I Need This to be Love,” kicked off her self-titled debut album, one of my favorite records of that year, and one I return to regularly. (more…)

CD Review: Simon & Garfunkel, “Live 1969″

Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel gave the world something that has never been fully recognized, I think. Now, I enjoy folk music and several of its most recognizable proponents, but I cannot deny the inherent sanctimony of a lot of Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan’s most famous tunes. Sure, these were protest songs, and the subjective “us versus them” attitude was an obvious tack, but over time, some of these songs lost luster. Some lost it because of modern cynicism: “Yes, you’re outraged over this Tower of Babel. Where were you when it was being built? Is singing about it all you can do now?” Others lost it because of an overbearing quaintness, hymns to Ralph Waldo Emerson that smacked of being so out of touch, they might as well be alien transmissions.

So when Simon & Garfunkel burst on the scene, they freed up the voice and acoustic guitar from the tyranny of the right-minded (or the left, thinking politically). Their songs could be political, but they could also be nonsensical, traditional, and deep in their hearts they were always pop stars like their heroes the Everly Brothers; when they approached thorny material, Paul Simon did so as a writer, Art Garfunkel as a choir singer. When the duo was matched with a crack staff of Columbia’s studio musicians, the mass psychosis that plagued Dylan’s efforts in going electric didn’t affect the pair. Their saving grace was not simplicity but subtlety.

This all comes through on Live 1969, a collection of recordings from a tour concurrent with their finishing Bridge Over Troubled Water that year. They were on the verge of an acrimonious breakup that would result in years of sniping, famously documented in a “reunion” on the first season of Saturday Night Live in 1975. Fortunately, that subsurface nastiness is nowhere to be found here. Instead, the focus is hard set on the songs of two voices and often one guitar. You couldn’t get more traditional folk than that. And when they are backed up by other musicians, it’s never superfluous. The clearest example is when Garfunkel takes the stage, backed only by piano, to perform “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” Just as poignant is “The Sound of Silence,” the song originally intended for the stark folk treatment, then later filled in with studio musicians to produce the rock tune we recognize today. In it’s rawest, live incarnation, nothing is lost because it was always there from the start. When Simon palm-mutes the strings and thumps out a beat while moving toward the end section, it becomes as epic as anything they’ve ever done. (more…)

Bottom Feeders: The Ass End of the ’80s, Part 34

I’d bet that most people right now would say “Welcome back” to all of you. But I’m not, because the false “Welcome back” is just a little pet peeve of mine. You didn’t really go anywhere — I did.

I’ve loudly stated my hatred for this phrase for many years now, like when I’m watching a live TV show and they come back from commercial and say “Welcome back.” You went somewhere, not me. I didn’t ask you to promote Always (with wings) or the 2009 Prius. I simply asked you to give me a live television show, but you had to go and interrupt it with commercials.

So, I can’t say “welcome back” in this case because it’s me that went dark for five weeks. I will, though, say “hi there,” or thank your office manager for letting your production slack off again as you spend time reading Bottom Feeders. So as I say thanks for letting me back into your brain once again, we start back up with the ass end of music in the ’80s.

For those of you joining me for the first time, each Wednesday we take a look at 20 or so “Bottom Feeders” – tracks from the Billboard Hot 100 chart that made it no higher than #41. And we’ll do it alphabetically by artist until we reach ZZ Top. We start 2009 off with the letter G.

Kenny G
“We’ve Saved the Best For Last” – 1989, #47 (download)

Well, we certainly didn’t “save the best” for the start of 2009, did we? Mr. Kenneth Gorelick (easy to see why he shortened this to “G” now, isn’t it?) starts us off with some jazzy R&B from his 1988 album Silhouette. The vocal stylings of Smokey Robinson actually save this song, which ends up being not exactly terrible. Sorry, “not exactly terrible” is the best compliment I can come up with for any Kenny G tune. Talk to me again when I’m 60 and we’ll see if I still say that. (more…)