One of the great tragedies in blues and rock history is that Albert Collins, the famed “Master of the Telecaster,” whose wry songwriting and biting guitar attack inspired a legion of rock players in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, died just as his career was hitting its stride. Though he had been performing and recording since the late 50s, Collins’ commercial success didn’t start clicking until nearly 30 years later, and just as he was starting to reap the rewards of three decades worth of work, he was struck down by liver cancer in 1993 at the age of 61. For fans of the blues legend, it comes as a pleasant surprise that the German label Inakustik should be releasing In Concert, a DVD of Collins’ 1985 appearance on the German music show Ohne Filter. A chance to see the “Iceman” in his prime seems too good to be true. In spite of a rather rough presentation, it manages to avoid living up to this billing.

On the positive side, viewers are given the chance to see a truly unique musician and get a closeup encounter with his homespun technique. Unlike most guitarists, Collins tuned his instrument to the key of F minor and choked up on the neck with a capo — something more akin to Joni Mitchell than your run of the mill blues guitarist. The sounds he produces, however, are unmistakably tough and stinging, as he plays with his thumb and forefinger; another trademark of his style. Furthermore, Collins is backed by a solid band. Abb Locke plays a satisfactorily greasy saxophone and backup guitarist Rob Noll plays well enough in his own right. The rhythm section of Johnny B. Gayden on bass and Casey Jones on drums are rock solid. The Icebreakers lay a foundation somewhere between roadhouse blues and R&B funk and compliment Albert’s frosty tones like grits with gravy.

Special guest Southside Johnny makes a lackluster appearance on “Brick,” blowing an uninspired harp that lets the air out of an otherwise excellent tune. And to further lament, the set was fairly lean on the humor that Collins applied liberally to his songwriting. Songs like “Too Many Dirty Dishes,” “I Ain’t Drunk (I’m just Drinkin’)”, and “Don’t Go Reachin’ Across My Plate” — tunes that showcase his wit as well as the wicked guitar playing — are staples of the Collins catalog. It’s too bad that this eight-song performance left these selections out. The DVD package itself also leaves much to be desired. Complete with typos in the captions and looking as though it was videotaped in a high school gymnasium (loved the dry ice effect), the DVD doesn’t offer much for fans other than a solid performance by Collins and the Icebreakers. The “extras” on this DVD include a written Albert Collins biography and an interview with the producer. Pretty tepid stuff. In the end, though, it’s the performance that makes the DVD worth viewing and — for blues fans — owning. Watching the infectious Collins perform is its own reward, and sadly, makes us miss him even more so many years after his death.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

“San Quentin, I hate every inch of you. You’ve cut me and you’ve scarred me through and through”

When Johnny Cash recorded Johnny Cash At San Quentin in 1969, it marked the high point of his popularity. A follow-up to his hugely successful Folsom Prison recordings the year before, San Quentin showed Cash at his roughhouse best — full of brash bravado and giving the average American a glimpse at a side that showed him to be more kindred to those in the audience that evening than to Nashville or the hippie rock scene that was grinding to an inevitable halt. But 1969 was a year that saw a country ready for such attitude. A prison record seemed to go hand-in-hand with the events that unfolded later that year: Four people died at the Altamont festival in San Francisco in what was supposed to be a smaller, West coast version of Woodstock, and opposition to the Vietnam War reached its peak. It was rowdy year that foretold the end of a psychedelic “love” era that was spinning out of control and burning out. Johnny Cash – with his own demons at his heels – was a mirror of the times.

While the original 1969 release was an undoubted success, fans were only given a glimpse of a performance that included numbers by the Carter Family, Carl Perkins, and The Statler Brothers. The original nine tracks failed to show just how good the inmates of the maximum security facility actually had it that evening; they were treated to a full-blown, three-hour musical feast. Fortunately, the folks at Columbia Records went into the archives and, instead of simply remastering and rehashing the original release, gave us the whole thing: All 31 tracks in chronological order, as it happened on February 24, 1969. The resulting two-CD, one-DVD boxed set stands as an historical account of the power and charisma that Cash possessed, as much as it shows the exceptional concert performances. Johnny Cash At San Quentin: Legacy Edition does just what the title suggests, illuminating and securing Cash’s legacy as one of the great performers in popular music history, whether you called it rock and roll…country…folk music… or something else entirely. Johnny Cash eluded labels, but he put on a damned fine show.

The CDs kick off with Carl Perkins rocking through “Blue Suede Shoes” and traverses through the Statler Brothers performing their hit “Flowers On the Wall,” the Carter Family showcasing their vocal harmonies on “The Last Thing On My Mind” and their classic “Wildwood Flower” before the man takes the stage with his signature announcement:

“Hello, I’m Johnny Cash.”

The hall erupts and the energy level intensifies as Cash commands the stage with such hits as “Big River,” “Wreck of the Old 97,” “I Walk the Line,” “The Long Black Veil,” and the raucous “Folsom Prison Blues.” Cash mesmerizes the inmates and holds them at the edge of anarchy with his commanding presence.

The second disc begins with Cash performing two rounds of “San Quentin,” a song written a few days prior just for the show. With each line he sings the mess hall explodes into raucous cheering; a sort of lawless call and response. You get the idea that, with a subtle gesture or nod, he’d send the whole place into a riot.

The evening paces itself with musicians rotating onto the stage – A Carl Perkins number here, a Cash/Carter duet there – and wraps up with the entire troupe taking the stage to perform a series of spirited numbers, ultimately wrapping up with a reprising medley of the hits.

The included DVD features a 60 minute documentary that originally aired in the U.K. detailing the events of the evening. The 40-page full color booklet provides even more insight into the performances. Already a landmark recording, this new collection expands upon what was already considered the top Country record of the ‘60s and brings into sharp focus the legend of one of music’s great performers.

Rhino has reissued the first two Pretenders albums — Pretenders and Pretenders II — and packaged each as a two disc set: the first disc containing the original recordings and the second a collection of rarities, out-takes, and live recordings. These albums, featuring the original Pretenders lineup of vocalist Chrissie Hynde, guitarist James Honeyman-Scott, drummer Martin Chambers, and bassist Pete Farndon showcase a band that captured the best qualities of punk, new wave, and rock, all in a radio-friendly package that made the band an instant sensation.

Hynde’s edgy delivery and whip-smart lyrics combined with Honeyman-Scott’s lean hook-laden guitar playing set the band apart from the rest of the New-Wave scene that was coming out of London in the late 70’s and early 80’s. They had a sound that was tough, put also highly accessible, and both albums broke the top 10 and saw top-40 hits in the U.S. and England.

Unfortunately, drugs and the hard living of a touring band took their toll on the group; the band suffered the tragic deaths of both Farndon and Honeyman-Scott in 1983, shortly after the release of Pretenders II. They regrouped with a new lineup for 1984’s Learning to Crawl, but the band focused largely thereafter on the songwriting talents of Chrissy Hynde which, while appealing in their own right, never recapturing the raw energy and attitude of their first two releases.

Having said all that, the news of a couple of Pretenders reissues would have been cause for only mild interest if not for the impressive collection of bonus material included – a full disc in both cases. Bonus material on Pretenders focuses on previously unreleased outtakes and demos including the single-worthy “Cuban Slide,” nascent versions of the Ray Davies-penned “Stop Your Sobbing” and “Brass In Pocket,” and a mix of live performances, including electrifying versions of “Precious” and “Tattooed Love Boys.” The Pretenders II bonus CD includes – among other things – a demo version of “Talk of the Town” and a stunning 13 tracks from their 1981 show at the Santa Monica Civic Center in Los Angeles.

Oddly, 2006 is also a year in which Rhino released Pirate Radio: a 4 CD/1 DVD retrospective boxed set filled with studio releases, rarities, and live performances by the band. While this might leave fans scratching their heads as to the differences between the packages, rest assured that the bonus material alone makes the reissues worth owning – even if you already have well-worn copies of the original studio releases in your collection.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

It is with some surprise that I recently received a copy of The Best of Little Feat from Rhino Records. Surprising, not because of the contents of the disc; Little Feat were one of the most creative forces in 70’s rock, often soaring to the rarified air occupied by the likes of Frank Zappa, The Band, and Captain Beefheart. The surprise, as it was, was that it took this long for somebody to finally get around to cataloging the most popular material from the group.

Little Feat were formed in Los Angeles in 1970 when, after a brief stint with Zappa, the young singer/guitarist Lowell George teamed with Zappa bassist Roy Estrada, vocalist/keyboardist Bill Payne, and Drummer Richie Hayward. The eclectic group combined the off-beat approach of Zappa and the Mothers infused with blues, R&B, and country sounds.

This collection covers material from the group’s 16 studio releases and represents the band in all of its assorted incarnations: The original lineup, the revamped Dixie Chicken-era group (featuring the addition of Delaney and Bonnie’s Kenny Gradney and Sam Clayton on bass and percussion and rhythm guitarist Paul Barrere), and the ensemble that regrouped in 1988 — nine years after Lowell George’s untimely death.

While the success of Little Feat has always more aptly measured in critical acclaim than with commercial success, they did see their two most influential records — 1973’s Dixie Chicken and the outstanding 1978 live recording, Waiting for Columbus — score more than just praise. Each of those records stand among the best of the decade and six of the 17 tracks in this collection come from those recordings, including the ‘Feat staples “Dixie Chicken,” “Roll ‘Um Easy,” “Fat Man In The Bathtub,” and the sizzling “Oh, Atlanta.”

The inclusion of tracks like “Cold, Cold, Cold,” “Tripe Face Boogie,” and “Willin’” (a song considered by Frank Zappa to be too prurient to include with his own material) — all from the band’s second release, Sailing Shoes — boldly display the idiosyncratic and imaginative writing style of Lowell George. He was the driving force behind the group throughout the 70’s.

After informal jams in the late 80’s, the surviving members of the group reunited and continue to write and display the tight arrangements and superior musicianship that defined their Lowell-era work. This collection includes four tracks from the six recordings they’ve released since rejoining, including the title track to their comeback release, Let It Roll and the moderate hit “Rad Gumbo” from their underrated 1990 follow-up Representing the Mambo.

All in all, it’s great to see an influential group such as Little Feat finally getting the treatment they deserve, and the release of The Best of Little Feat represents a nice introduction and summary of the band’s body of work. It may have taken 36 years for it to arrive, but the end result appears to have been worth the wait.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

Do I seem uptight? In need of some mellowing out perhaps? Google seems to think so. Check out the recommendations that greeted me this morning when I went to Google Groups to do a little guitar reading. Guitar and cannibis are algorythmic peanut butter and jelly, apparently.

Click to view the whole thing

To quote Muddy Waters, “The blues had a baby, and they named it rock and roll.” While most fans of the latter are generally aware of this fact, it’s often surprising to discover that so few have actually explored the roots of their favorite music. For many, the blues start with Eric Clapton, Led Zeppelin, and the Rolling Stones, but the fact remains that a significant portion of the rock and roll vocabulary — both in style and substance — was born in the two-bit recording studios and juke joints of Chicago’s South side, the Mississippi Delta, and Eastern Texas. If you’re looking to get a little deeper into the blues, the following selections make an excellent starting point for any collection.

Robert Johnson — The Complete Recordings

Johnson’s style defined the Mississippi Delta blues of the first half of the 20th century. With the possible exception of Willie Dixon, no artist has had a bigger impact on modern blues and rock than Robert Johnson. This two-CD boxed set is required listening for any music fan.

Willie Dixon / Various Artists — The Willie Dixon Chess Box

Pair this collection with the Robert Johnson boxed set and you have original versions of every blues tune Led Zeppelin ever “wrote.” This two-disc set shows why Willie Dixon may be the most important man in the history of the genre. Dixon penned the hits that legends like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Little Walter built their careers around, and they can all be found on this seminal collection. Be it as a writer, singer, bass-player, teacher, or father-figure, Willie Dixon was Chicago blues.

Muddy Waters — Folk Singer

Muddy Waters was the first genuine blues star, and for good reason: His presence, command, and charisma were unmatched during his 30-plus year career. While this landmark record suggests a selection of folk tunes (and was designed to catch the interest of the growing — primarily white — folk audience of the mid-1960’s) it is, in fact, Muddy going back to his blues roots; mixing his electric delivery with a sparse, acoustic band that included Willie Dixon and a very young Buddy Guy. With Folk Singer, the original crossover album, Waters did more to push the genre to the forefront of a new generation’s conciousness than any record before it. It still stands up as one of the great blues records ever recorded.

B.B. King — Live at the Regal

Put to vinyl in 1965, this is B.B. at his best. A recording that influenced the likes of Eric Clapton and Joe Walsh, “Live at the Regal” showcases King’s remarkable vocal talents and his signature guitar tone better than any live record I’ve ever heard. Listen to the girls go wild (free of charge, no less)! Frank Sinatra had nothing on the “King of the Blues.”

Albert King — King of the Blues Guitar

Albert King was actually one of three “Kings of the Blues,” the other two being B.B. King and guitarist Freddie King. All three musicians were great in their own right, but Albert’s raw, cutting tone and funky leads made him a perfect match for the blues-infused rock and roll that was forming in Britain in the mid-1960’s. Albert was a big man with a big sound, and his influence on the up-and-coming kids from England (including Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, and Pete Townshend) during the decade is undeniable. Later on, players like Stevie Ray Vaughan would incorporate Albert’s signature licks into their own styles.

Bessie Smith — The Bessie Smith Collection

Bessie Smith is to blues what Billie Holliday is to jazz. She sang with grace, authority, and a sensibility that few vocalists of any style could match. To listen to Bessie Smith in the 1920’s is to hear a popular music that mainstream America wouldn’t know until some three decades later. Unlike many of her contemporaries, her music is still as vital today as it was nearly a century ago.

T-Bone Walker — T-Bone Blues

Bridging the gap between jazz and blues, Aaron Thibadeau “T-Bone” Walker played a sophisticated style that mixed complex melodies with the raw sound of the Texas blues. He was the first great electric blues guitarist, who’s style profoundly affected the playing of a young B.B. King. This collection features his best (and best-known) recordings.

Little Walter — His Best (Chess 50th Anniversary Collection)

“Little” Walter Jacobs is widely held as the greatest of all the great blues harmonica players. In addition to penning hits such as “Juke,” his style and authority while cutting sides and sitting in on countless Chess sessions makes him an important piece of the Blues puzzle. Paul Butterfield idolized Little Walter, and many guitar players have acknowledged that his tone and phrasing influenced their own playing.

Elmore James — The Sky Is Crying: The History of Elmore James

Elmore James may not be as well known as, say, Muddy Waters or B.B. King, but his influence on blues and rock music is just as significant. Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Billy Gibbons, and many other guitarists owe a debt of gratitude to “Elmo’” and his abrasive, raucous slide guitar and frenzied voice.

Various Artists — Alligator Records 20th Anniversary Collection

No record company has done more in the last three decades to promote and preserve the blues tradition than Alligator Records. Released in 1991, this two-CD set contains 35 tracks from the best and the brightest modern blues acts and classic “originators.” If a blues neophyte could only afford to buy one record to start their collection, they’d be hard pressed to find a better selection than this.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

Over the course of the past 50 years, few artists serve as a better bridge between the classic Chicago Blues sounds of the 50’s and 60’s and modern Rock and Roll than Buddy Guy. Beginning his recording career in 1957, Guy recorded and performed live with three generations of artists; starting with Blues legends such as Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Little Walter and continuing through the British invasion of the 60’s all the way through the Blues revival of the 1990’s. Oddly, it wasn’t until the later stage of his career that the 2005 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee began to receive the recognition that he deserved.

Possessing a style that is equal parts Muddy Waters, Guitar Slim, and Jimi Hendrix, he has profoundly influenced the sounds of players ranging from Eric Clapton, to Stevie Ray Vaughan, to John Mayer, and serves as a de facto ambassador for a genre that is, sadly, but inevitably, losing many of its founding fathers.
He has shared the stage and studio with just about everybody: The aforementioned Clapton, Carlos Santana, David Bowie, and Keith Richards, to name a few. And then there are the Blues legends: Sonny Boy Williamson, Otis Rush, Willie Dixon, Albert Collins, B.B. King, and, of course, Junior Wells, with whom Guy partnered during the 60’s to record Hoodoo Man Blues, a landmark recording and one of the best Blues records of the era.

And so it is that, five decades into a stellar career and no less than 15 years since the inception of the retrospective “boxed set” phenomenon, someone — namely, Silvertone records — finally got around to compiling Guy’s body of work into a concise, bookshelf-worthy collection. Fortunately for music fans, they did it right.

Described as “Buddy Guy’s 70th birthday gift” (Guy turned 70 on July 30th of this year), the handsomely packaged Can’t Quit the Blues offers the hard-core and casual fan alike with an impressive and comprehensive collection of Guy’s work.

Comprised of three CDs and a DVD, the collection starts with his first recording, “The Way You Been Treating Me”, captured in Baton Rouge Louisiana in May, 1957; not far from his home town of Lettsworth, where he was born 21 years earlier. From there it takes us to Chicago, and the legendary Chess Records, where Guy worked as a sideman for the architects of the Chicago Blues, including Muddy Waters and Willie Dixon. While Chess executives didn’t approve of Guy’s wild approach to playing and singing — a style inspired by his hero, Guitar Slim, and foreshadowing the music of the 60’s — they did grant him a handful of sides, which are presented here, and show him paying homage to the men that he idolized.

By the mid-1960’s, Guy was growing restless and, seeking the opportunity to express his own unique voice, jumped to Vanguard records and began recording his own material, in addition to performing on Wells’ milestone Hoodooman Blues. This collection includes two tracks from that recording, the title track and In the Wee Hours, in addition to seven other gems from the late 60’s through the 80’s — a period during which Guy toured extensively (both solo and with the Junior Wells band), but produced comparatively few studio releases.

By the 1990’s, the Blues genre was experiencing a full-blown revival, thanks in large part a renewed interest in the recordings of Robert Johnson and the commercial success of Texas bluesman Stevie Ray Vaughan. Vaughan made it no secret that he owed a great deal of his success to the influences of players like Buddy Guy, and Guy showed the world why with his 1991 album Damn Right I Got the Blues. The record featured Guy’s playing at its best and featured some high-profile guest artists, including Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, and Mark Knopfler. The record pushed Guy out of the shadows and into the spotlight, finally giving him the recognition that he had long deserved as one of the premier purveyors of the Blues. The record sold more than 500,000 copies and won Guy his first Grammy for Best Contemporary Blues Album.

Discs two and three of the set features three tracks from Damn Right I Got the Blues, including the Mack Rice staple, “Mustang Sally,” with Beck sharing guitar duties. In addition to these tracks, the disc contains tracks from his followup Grammy-winning recording Feels Like Rain (including the title track, which features Bonnie Raitt), and a mix of excellent material from his other offerings from the decade, including tracks from Buddy’s underrated 2001 release, Sweet Tea.

Mixed in with all of these are a handful of previously unreleased tracks, including the Mose Allison tune “Your Mind Is On Vacation,” and an excellent rendition of Muddy Waters’ “Honey Bee.”

The companion DVD provides an excellent documentary, in which Guy tells the story of Chicago Blues, through his own history, humorous anecdotes, and insights. You can’t help but love the man after watching it, as he is warm, intelligent, and possessed of a undeniable charisma.

That charisma is most evident, however, in his performances, where his magnetism and showmanship are evident, even in early recordings as a sideman with Junior Wells. His playing during the 80’s and 90’s performances is electrifying, and his fearlessness on stage (and off, as he is often seen strolling through crowd, playing blistering leads while audience members look on in wonderment) are hard evidence of the impact that Buddy Guy has had on popular music over the past 50 years. Luckily, Silvertone Records finally came to that realization itself and, though we had to wait a long time, gave us a collection that is, ultimately, worth the wait.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

Every year, the GRAMMY association’s charity arm designed to provide aid to musicians and people of the musical community – Musicares – honors a musician whose contributions to the music go beyond writing and performing memorable tunes. It’s a lifetime achievement award, of sorts, and in 2006 Musicares honored singer-songwriter James Taylor as its Person of the Year for his contributions to popular music and the musical community. There’s no doubt that Taylor is one of the most successful and gifted talents to come out of the 70’s songwriting generation, and he has provided the music community with a body of work that remains vital 30 years later. In order to properly honor such an artist, Musicares staged a star-studded gala, and packed the stage full of big names ready to pay tribute. The backing band featured some of the best talent in the industry including session legends Steve Gadd (drums), Michael Landau (guitar), and Jimmy Johnson (bass).

The companion DVD, A Musicares Person of the Year Tribute Honoring James Taylor, features performances of Taylor’s material by his friends, contemporaries, and those who have been influenced by him. Artists include old friends Carole King, Bonnie Raitt, Bruce Springsteen, Taj Mahal, Dr. John, Sting, David Crosby, and Jackson Browne, in addition to new talents like Sheryl Crowe, India.Arie, the Dixie Chicks, Keith Urban, and Alison Krauss. In between songs we see Taylor sitting, somewhat uncomfortably, in the middle of the audience, giving the occasional wave, wink, and nod. We’re primarily left longing to see him where he’s most comfortable — on stage.

There is no shortage of love and affection flowing through the hall, and while the performances are sometimes effective, as a whole the show is uneven and plodding. The Dixie Chicks start things off in fine fashion with a devoted performance of “Shower the People,” and Bonnie Raitt’s soulful followup performance of the lesser-known Taylor gem “Rainy Day Man” promises an enjoyable couple of hours, but things fall flat thereafter. India.Arie’s silky-smooth voice sounds fine on “Secret O’Life,” but the performance is slow and uninspired. By the time Crosby, Crowe, and Brown muddle through “Mexico,” not even solid performances by Bruce Springsteen and Allison Krauss can completely salvage the evening. The bizarre attempt by Cheech Marin to roast Taylor falls flat and, as he shuffled off stage, seemed odd and out of place in a room so full of respect and admiration. Performances by Keith Urban, Sting, and Taj Mahal are workmanlike, well meaning, and ultimately uninspiring.

Perhaps the most disappointing element of the DVD is the fact that we have to wait until the very end to hear the man himself. Taylor doesn’t take the stage until halfway through a rough-hewn Carole King performance of “You’ve Got a Friend” and then only sticks around for a few tunes. It would have been better to see all of these talents singing with Taylor, instead of to him. While it may be unreasonable to expect a guy to have to work on a night in which he’s being honored, it would have made for a more enjoyable viewing.

Having said all this, the entire event was arranged for a good cause, and proceeds from DVD sales will be used by Musicares to help musicians in need, providing a safety net for those with financial, medical, and personal emergencies. Fans of Taylor would do well to purchase a copy as a documentary of the effect that this gifted musician has on his industry and peers. As an entertainment piece, however, it leaves much to be desired.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

2006 is a year that has, so far, seen no fewer than 25 officially released Willie Nelson compilations and reissues, but of all of them the handsomely packaged The Complete Altantic Sessions is arguably the best of the bunch. Covering Nelson’s two year stint at Atlantic, this boxed set includes a pair of his most enduring and influential works, as well as a previously unreleased live record.

One thing there is no arguing about is Nelson’s influence in bringing rock into country music and vice versa. After a decade of songwriting, Nelson left the slick environs of Nashville for the much freer atmosphere of Austin, Texas in the late 60’s and — continuing a tradition started by Hank Williams — fostered an outlaw movement that left an indelible mark on both genres and made Willie a star. His Atlantic recordings represent the very best of this work.

The first disc in the set, 1971’s Shotgun Willie is the seminal outlaw record: a country disc with a Rock and Roll attitude. Willie’s sharp writing and laid back persona take us through such classics as “Whiskey River,” “Shotgun Willie,” “Sad Songs and Waltzes,” and “Devil In a Sleeping Bag.” Additional songs penned by Leon Russell and Bob Wills fill out a record that influenced many artists in the decades that followed.

Also included is Nelson’s 1973 release, Phases and Stages. Nelson wrote all of the material on this record while going through a divorce and the record is an utterly personal concept piece. The original vinyl version featured songs from the male perspective on side one. Side two took the female view in the war of the roses. While the record garnered less than stellar sales, it remains one of Nelson’s most creative and enduring works.

The live record Live at the Texas Opry House, originally scrapped and released in pieces over the following years, wraps up the set. Nelson has always been an excellent live performer and this concert showcases the full range of his material from classics written a decade before (“Crazy”) to his then-current hits (“Whiskey River”). Nelson’s irreverent rendition of “Truck Driving Man” (where he supplants a whorehouse in place of the roadhouse in the original — something that would have melted a few rhinestones at the Texas Opry House’s Grand Ol’ counterpart) represents, perhaps better than any other song in this set, his giving the high-sign to Nashville and embracing his new musical home.

For hard-core fans, each disc comes with bonus tracks and outtakes, and the included booklet features excellent photos and details about the recordings. As a collection, however, even casual fans should check out The Complete Altantic Sessions — an important, if brief, set from one of country and rock’s pioneers.

Originally posted on VintageRock.com.

Episode 21: The Family Guy

Jack climbed the stairs of the 5:40 commuter, scanning the rows for an available seat. To his surprise, he discovered an open row. Even better. He liked a window seat.

Jack usually took the 6:18 commuter: A much busier train. Finding an open seat was always a challenge on the 6:18. The ladies with their corpulent bags were fascists when it came to accommodating a boarding rider. Men fiddling with laptops were junkyard dogs guarding their precious elbow room.

Using the handholds to steady himself as the train slowly made speed, Jack worked his way to the empty row. He caught a quick glimpse of a woman’s shoe, cradling a woman’s foot: fancy, a slipper really. White with gold embroidery. Middle Eastern design, or maybe Indian. Jack wasn’t much for telling the differences with these types of things.

Easing into his seat, he caught the eye of the owner of the shoe, and the dainty foot that filled it. It was a dark-haired girl, maybe twenty-two, definitely exotic. She had dark eyes, full lips, and dark skin. Only a slightly protruding nose looked out of place. But youth went a long way to excuse small flaws. She was, Jack surmised, very attractive.

Next to her sat a young guy: clean cut, sandy brown hair, short-sleeved check-pattern dress shirt, nice watch with a loose band. Maybe twenty-five. Maybe a little older. “Snarky,” Jack thought as he looked him over. Self satisfied. Plenty self satisfied.

It wasn’t obvious that they were in love, but there was no doubt about lust.

From the moment Jack took his seat and slid over to the window, the couple went at it. Kissing, tongues writhing, hands roaming freely, as if his entry was their cue.

“For God’s sake,” Jack rolled his eyes, thinking to himself, “get a room already.”

The young guy stuck his tongue in Exotic’s ear. Jack pulled out a book and tried to read.

But it couldn’t be done. Despite his best efforts to traverse the first few sentences on the page, he found himself continually looking up at the couple. In disgust, to be sure, but also out of vague titillation. Whatever the reason, the young lady seemed to take such diverted glances as encouragement. Upping the ante, she stuck her tongue out, flat and snake-like, and traced the outside of the young man’s lips.

It went on like this for three stops: Jackson, Collins, Orange Hill. Were these two aspiring soap opera idols regulars? Did they do this every day? Just what kind of a train was the 5:40 anyway?

Jack dropped the book into his lap and looked out the window at the passing sights.

Finally, one stop before Jack’s, the young lady stood and with a final lustful exchange, departed the train, leaving the Snark sitting by himself, and Jack relieved. He went back to his book and again tried to read, while the the Snark cooed into his cell phone.

“I miss you too baby,” he crooned. “Mhmmm… I can’t wait.”

It wouldn’t end. They weren’t apart three minutes and they were already ramping up for phone sex. Jack rolled his eyes and stuffed his paperback into his bag. His stop was approaching.

Glad to be free of the unsolicited display of… whatever that was, Jack lurched toward the stairs and around to the sliding doors of the passenger car as the commuter squealed to a shuddering stop.

Stepping deftly onto the platform, he strolled toward the parking lot where expectant people awaited the unloading passengers. This was one of Jack’s favorite parts of taking the train. Something about it was different than any other means of public transportation. Even getting off from your daily commute felt like an event, and the people waiting to greet the riders as they disembarked only added to the atmosphere. Hugs were exchanged, smiles were in abundance. It was a true homecoming every time for those who had someone to meet them there.

As if taking a cue from his thoughts, an attractive young lady waved at a disembarking passenger behind him. An infant on one hip and a freckled youngster by her side, they smiled broadly with recognition as the young boy raced past Jack, arms outstretched.

“Daddeeeee…!”

Jack turned in time to see a clean cut young man bend down and sweep the boy up in his arms. The boy’s sandy brown hair matched his father’s, and as they passed Jack and the young man greeted his wife with a kiss, he could see that it was none other than the Snark; check pattern dress shirt, watch, and all. Jack stopped in his tracks, slack-jawed.

It occurred to Jack at that moment to stop and accost the family. To spoil the secret the young man had so boldly flaunted back on the train.

“Do you realize that your husband is having a torrid affair with an exotic railroad mistress?” He imagined himself accusing. “Do you know how foolish you all look?”

But what would it get him? A broken nose, probably. And the satisfaction of having destroyed a perfectly happy family — or at least the illusion of one. Jack knew there was no satisfaction to be found in such an act. He shook his head, fumbled in his trouser pocket for his car keys and started again toward the parking lot and his empty sedan.