I have to admit that I was hesitant to make Rickie Lee Jones’ Pirates the subject of this week’s Cratedigger. The weather has been gloomy here in New Jersey all week, the Yankees dropped the first game of the World Series to Philadelphia, and my finances are in the sewer. Since Pirates is perhaps the most heartbreaking album I’ve ever encountered, I was afraid listening to it again would throw me into an even deeper funk. Despite the sorrow, when pressed, I will tell you that Pirates is one of the best albums ever made, and it is easily ensconced in my personal Top Five, where it has resided since its release in July, 1981.
Rickie Lee Jones burst on the scene with her eponymous debut, and it’s massive hit single, “Chuck E.’s In Love,” in 1979. She was part of a bohemian L.A. crowd that included the aforementioned Chuck E. Weiss and singer/songwriter Tom Waits, with whom Jones was in a relationship. The songs on her second album, Pirates, are largely a wistful reflection on her time with Waits, following their breakup. “We Belong Together,” “A Lucky Guy,” and the title track all refer to her relationship with him, and “Living It Up” and “Traces of the Western Slopes” (written with new boyfriend Sal Bernardi) are peopled with characters from the bohemian milieu that they moved in. The most devastating heartbreak of all, however, comes in the song “Skeletons,” based on the true story of a young man who was killed by the Los Angeles police in a case of mistaken identity as he was driving his wife to the hospital to give birth. (more…)
I say this with only a slight bit of embarrassment; The Cars’ debut album is my most-purchased title ever. I received it on vinyl one Christmas (way back when humans licked scum off the rocks for sustenance… 1978?), wore that out, repurchased it a year later, bought the CD at the dawn of the digital era, rebought the Rhino remaster because that initial release was horrid, and finally it has come to this — the Mobile Fidelity half-speed mastered vinyl edition. Can you imagine?
The “My Album / Your Album” dynamic. Sounds like a really odd phrase, but you’ve experienced it: You are suddenly enthralled by this artist or band, you’ve listened to their debut a million times, memorized every word and note and have contributed to their sudden overnight success. Now their sophomore album is being released! You run breathlessly to the store or the computer and grab it up! You listen to it and wait for those waves of satisfaction to wash over you. You listen. You listen. You say…
That’s how it was for most people when they heard Angel Dust, the album arriving after Faith No More’s breakout smash The Real Thing. It was the band’s fourth but the second with Mike Patton at the microphone and was, in many respects, as much a sophomore effort as any. The dynamic was apparent immediately. Where there was restraint, being the cagey way “Epic” said and didn’t say it was about self-gratification, on Angel Dust things were much more blatant: “Be Aggressive” is an ode to fellatio, pure and simple. “Jizzlobber” is about the guilt that would come (pardon the pun) after the actions presumably taken in “Epic.” Where The Real Thing stayed true to the hard rock structure, even as Patton rapped, Angel Dust had twisted pop, rock, even trailer-park country in the humor vein (”RV”); The former had the Black Sabbath cover of “War Pigs” while the latter had a cover of John Barry’s “
