You'll Never Mistake Me for John Travolta!

This article was originally published in 1998.

Willie Nelson: Spirit
Island 314-524-242-2

Some recordings let you know immediately you are in the presence of greatness—Spirit is one of them. From the first note Willie Nelson picks on his nylon-string guitar (a sound unique in pop music; a nylon-string guitar is "supposed" to be played with fingers, not pick), this disc reveals itself as one of the finest recordings ever made, with stunning instrumental presence and extraordinary sonic purity and detail. (Sounds to me like it was multi-miked using stereo mike pairs on the instruments and no studio processing save for a touch of reverb on Nelson's voice.)

A deeply personal record Nelson surely made to satisfy his desires and no one else's, Spirit features Nelson on guitar and vocals, along with his sister Bobbie on piano, Jody Payne on rhythm guitar and harmony vocals, and Johnny Gimble on fiddle (ain't no Vivaldi he's playing here, friends), playing live straight to tape. The spare, all-acoustic instrumentation perfectly underscores Nelson's songs of starkly-revealed emotions and inner truths—no one else I know could make a song called "Too Sick to Pray" not only believable, but moving. A subtle, somber yet life-affirming record that requires a few listenings before it can be truly appreciated, Spirit isn't a Willie Nelson "country music" record—it's simply music, pure, transcendental and beautiful.

Jethro Tull: A Passion Play
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab UDCD 720

Well, is this a pleasant surprise! Before receiving the Mobile Fidelity release, I'd never heard this ambitious follow-up to the landmark, and equally ambitious Jethro Tull albums, Aqualung and Thick as a Brick. My loss these past twentysomething years—the music in this album is a wealth of convoluted, kaleidoscopic brilliance from leader/flautist/guitarist/vocalist Ian Anderson's idiosyncratic mind, performed as only he and Tull in any of its myriad iterations ever could—in this case a sizably augmented cast of guest vocalists and musicians on what was side two of the original LP.

A Passion Play is classic Jethro Tull, filled with Anderson's trademark ever-shifting instrumentation (heavy on the keyboards) and time signatures, enigmatic lyrics (which I know are supposed to have Deeply Cosmic Significance, but I don't get most of them and don't care), and complex arrangements. Not to mention the unique, intertwined sounds of Anderson's nasally, sneering vocals, fluttering flute and capoed-up acoustic guitar and the unmistakable throaty midrange of Martin Barre's tube-overdriven electric guitar. (Barre is one of the most underrated guitarists in rock history, although his solo spots on this disc are minimal.)

The sound of this Mo Fi Ultradisc II CD is clean, detailed and dynamic, with excellent tonal balance, open but not over-etched upper midrange, taut bass, and precise delineation of instruments and vocals no matter how frenetic the musical goings-on. Compared to the original LP (Chrysalis CHR 1040, filched from my brother's collection), the vinyl has a bit—a bit—more ambient detail, and the CD is somewhat more "lively" and present. If you're a Tull freak (I know there are still many out there)—you're gonna flip over this CD. Make it a triple back flip if you're original vinyl is trashed and you've never been able to find another clean LP copy, or you threw out your turntable along with your bong all those years ago.

Gentle Giant: The Power and the Glory
Capitol ST-11337 (LP)

The editors tell me that the amount of letters received in response to my previous review of Gentle Giant's In A Glass House was more than they'd received for any other review. They were amazed that I had hit home some with legions of music lovers hitherto unheard from. Well, that made my day—not the fact that I got the most amount of letters, the fact that so many Gentle Giant aficionados made known their pleasure at seeing coverage of the band! (Though it's nice to know I'm not operating in a vacuum.)

With that in mind, I feel a little remiss that I didn't mention Gentle Giant's The Power and the Glory LP in my review, because, if anything else, it is even more musically astonishing than the mind-boggling In A Glass House, contains some of the band's greatest material, and is one of the most perfectly-realized concept albums (I won't give it away here) in the annals of rock. In its way, the album is more "accessible" to listeners than other Gentle Giant albums, without sacrificing any of the band's intricate instrumental and vocal virtuosity, or complexity of arrangements and production. And certainly, hard core Gentle Giant fans would avow that the track, "Playing the Game" is one of the band's finest moments.

I'm happy to say that the sound quality of The Power and the Glory is superb. Compared to the near sonic perfection of Glass House, Power is a slight degree down in ambient detail resolution and ultimate sonic transparency—a very slight degree. On the other hand, Power also possesses a hint of lower midrange warmth that is oh-so sonically alluring—this is one of those records that's a pleasure to listen to simply for the sheer sonic beauty of the sound. Have I said that before in other reviews? Have I said that before in other reviews? Am I starting to repeat myself? No matter—it's gratifying to know there are many others out there who appreciate music as wonderful as this. If you have never heard Gentle Giant, I suggest you don't know what you're missing.

Saturday Night Fever/The Original Movie Sound Track
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab UDCD 716

A digression: I love schlock. Schlock is a wonderful thing, a balm to the often oppressive Seriousness of Life and as far as I'm concerned perhaps the most valid form of artistic expression extant. I am a connoisseur of schlock.

When the movie "Saturday Night Fever" came out, I was 22 years old and hated everything about it. I mean everything. As a child of the early to mid Sixties, I saw the rise of Disco culture as an unspeakable abomination, proof that there was no G-d, a sign that American pop culture had degenerated to decline-of-the Roman Empire proportions and that the human race was in fact to be held beneath contempt. Besides, I bitterly resented the fact that disco music was putting my rock band out of work—and that I had to wear a %$)@%&! white jacket and go to a disco if I wanted to have a chance in hell of getting laid on a Saturday night. The only Saturday night fever for me in those days was me boiling over at the Jack in the Box at 3 AM after a hopeless night out, waiting for my two tacos and a medium coke.

Finally, after more than 20 years I have realized the error of my ways, thanks to the new Mobile Fidelity Saturday Night Fever re-issue, and have embraced the soundtrack with the fervor I now know it deserves. Now, I can finally listen to this soundtrack of music by the Bee Gees and other artists, and realize I was wrong all along. This music is some of the greatest schlock ever recorded, and therefore by my previously stated digression some of the greatest music ever recorded. Instead of invoking the gag reflex, listening to the Brothers Gibb belting out "Stayin' Alive" in delirious caterwauling falsetto now puts a smile on my face and...and...I find myself groovin' to it! I'm even diggin' the—yes—ten minute and fifty-three second version of the Trammps' "Disco Inferno."

To be fair, I'm probably being unfair to the music so many hold dear to their very hearts—this is, after all, the biggest selling soundtrack of all time, over 25 million sold—so I'm obviously in the minority among my generation. Truth be told, songs like Yvonne Elliman's "If I Can't Have You" and "More Than A Woman" (especially Tavares' version) are masterpieces of pop confection perfection (though nothing can justify the existence of the utter crap that is K.C. and the Sunshine Band's "Boogie Shoes").

But the true schlock sensations are the throwaway instrumentals. I mean, we're talkin' stuff like "Night On Disco Mountain" (yes, a disco rendition of the classical classic) and Walter Murphy's infamous beyond-the-valley-of-the-cheeseball "A Fifth of Beethoven" (you guessed it)—tracks so beyond the absurd that I find myself laughing like a lunatic every time I hear them. Other instrumentals are filled with every idiotic Seventies cop-show musical cliche imaginable—wah-wah guitars, blurping bass synthesizers, corny background vocals—and I'm amazed how the drummers could keep a sixteenth note high-hat beat for minutes on end without faltering, humans reduced to human drum machines. Ya gotta love it!

The biggest surprise of all—for the most part, this recording sounds great! True, there's track-to-track variation, and some of the Bee Gees cuts are pretty flat and two-dimensional-sounding, but other cuts, particularly the instrumentals produced by David Shire (who is he, and what else has he done), are wonderfully recorded, with clarity, dynamics and punch, solid bass (gotta have it if you're gonna tear up the dance floor, and while we're talkin' lows, dig the over-the-top Moog bass on "Jive Talkin'") excellent upper midrange and high frequency extension, superb transient attack, and even a good sense of width, depth and "air." Dare I say it—"K-Jee" by M.F.S.B. is so over-the-top, with it's tinny fuzz and wah-wah guitars, bleating saxophone, saccharine string section and hyperactive horns that it's...it's...badass! Who knew?

OK, I'll admit I didn't do the Mo-Fi CD versus original soundtrack LP comparison. Please! Do you think I bought the album when it first came out?