The 25 greatest songs you've never heard
http://www.nj.com/entertainment/ledger/index.ssf?/base/entertainment-1/1163914247186420.xml&coll=1
Sunday, November 19, 2006
They weren't singles. They weren't hits. But they should have been.
From bluesy ballads to brilliant pop, Star-Ledger music critics pick 25 of their favorite obscure songs, including some of the most criminally overlooked tunes of the last century. Using this list, you can put together an eclectic-but-entertaining CD mix that will make you seem the musical expert (copyright issues notwithstanding). CD availability is listed at the end of each entry, although many of these songs can be downloaded legally from iTunes and other Internet sources.
BRADLEY BAMBARGER
"He Calls That Religion," The Mississippi Sheiks: A country-blues fiddle band from the Delta, the Mississippi Sheiks had their biggest hit for Okeh with 1930's "Sitting on Top of the World," covered by Howling Wolf, Bob Wills, Cream and Bob Dylan, among others. But their funniest, most pungent tune was recorded two years later in Paramount Records' Grafton, Wisc., furniture factory; it deplores a philandering minister -- "He calls that religion/ but I know he's going to hell when he dies." Available on "Stop, Look and Listen," a 1992 Sheiks anthology (Yazoo).
"I'm Not Your Fool Anymore," Tom Waits and Teddy Edwards: This jazzy lament was written by the late L.A. saxophonist Edwards. Another of his collaborations with Waits on vocals, "Little Man," is included on the singer's new set of rarities ("Orphans," see review Page 6), but not this superior love-lorn number. As Edwards and a trumpeter weave woozy lines around a supple rhythm section, Waits guts it out -- "I used to lie awake at night, cry the whole night through/ But now I've found somebody new, to take the place of you." Then he croons his best falsetto as if persuading himself -- "It's all over, it's all over ... I'm not your fool, not anymore." Available on Edwards' 1991 album "Mississippi Lad" (Gitanes/Verve).
"Live With Me," The Twilight Singers: While singer/guitarist Greg Dulli is a compelling songwriter himself (first with the Afghan Whigs, now with his Twilight Singers), he is also a master of interpretation -- usually taking his favorite pop songs down to the dark end of the street. This blues-drenched cover of a recent Massive Attack song features vocals from frequent Dulli ally Mark Lanegan (of Screaming Trees and Queens of the Stone Age), whose sequoia of a voice transforms what was a sleek romantic overture into a desperate, soul-deep plea. Available on the new iTunes-only EP "A Stitch in Time" (One Little Indian).
"Mother of Mine," Djivan Gasparyan: One of Armenia's most famous sons, the 68-year-old Gasparyan is a virtuoso of the duduk. An ancient double-reed, oboe-like instrument made of apricot wood, the duduk makes a mournful sound in his hands. Gasparyan is also an affecting singer; this quiet, almost a cappella tune starts with lonely duduk, then has only low harmonium as backing. "Mother of Mine" doesn't come with a translation from Armenian, so it could be a tribute or a lament for her passing. Regardless, his voice is almost impossibly tender and moving, the song feeling as if it could go on as long as he has breath. Available on Gasparyan's Michael Brook-produced masterpiece "Moon Shines at Night" (All Saints, 1992/Rykodisc, 2005).
"Nun Wandre, Maria," Peter Pears and Benjamin Britten: Viennese composer Hugo Wolf -- who went insane and died from syphilis at age 43 in 1903 -- wrote this song, the saddest Christmas tune ever, to an old Spanish poem translated into German. His desolate minor key darkens Joseph's beseeching words of "now onward, Mary" on the hard journey to Bethlehem. As recorded live for the BBC in 1971, Pears' middle-aged tenor is full of plaintive character, enabling the English singer to divine the song's emotional core in a way that eludes others. As a composer himself (and Pears' life partner), Britten is the ideal piano accompanist. Available on a 2000 anthology that also includes Britten-led performances of Schubert (BBC Legends).
Sunday, November 19, 2006
They weren't singles. They weren't hits. But they should have been.
From bluesy ballads to brilliant pop, Star-Ledger music critics pick 25 of their favorite obscure songs, including some of the most criminally overlooked tunes of the last century. Using this list, you can put together an eclectic-but-entertaining CD mix that will make you seem the musical expert (copyright issues notwithstanding). CD availability is listed at the end of each entry, although many of these songs can be downloaded legally from iTunes and other Internet sources.
BRADLEY BAMBARGER
"He Calls That Religion," The Mississippi Sheiks: A country-blues fiddle band from the Delta, the Mississippi Sheiks had their biggest hit for Okeh with 1930's "Sitting on Top of the World," covered by Howling Wolf, Bob Wills, Cream and Bob Dylan, among others. But their funniest, most pungent tune was recorded two years later in Paramount Records' Grafton, Wisc., furniture factory; it deplores a philandering minister -- "He calls that religion/ but I know he's going to hell when he dies." Available on "Stop, Look and Listen," a 1992 Sheiks anthology (Yazoo).
"I'm Not Your Fool Anymore," Tom Waits and Teddy Edwards: This jazzy lament was written by the late L.A. saxophonist Edwards. Another of his collaborations with Waits on vocals, "Little Man," is included on the singer's new set of rarities ("Orphans," see review Page 6), but not this superior love-lorn number. As Edwards and a trumpeter weave woozy lines around a supple rhythm section, Waits guts it out -- "I used to lie awake at night, cry the whole night through/ But now I've found somebody new, to take the place of you." Then he croons his best falsetto as if persuading himself -- "It's all over, it's all over ... I'm not your fool, not anymore." Available on Edwards' 1991 album "Mississippi Lad" (Gitanes/Verve).
"Live With Me," The Twilight Singers: While singer/guitarist Greg Dulli is a compelling songwriter himself (first with the Afghan Whigs, now with his Twilight Singers), he is also a master of interpretation -- usually taking his favorite pop songs down to the dark end of the street. This blues-drenched cover of a recent Massive Attack song features vocals from frequent Dulli ally Mark Lanegan (of Screaming Trees and Queens of the Stone Age), whose sequoia of a voice transforms what was a sleek romantic overture into a desperate, soul-deep plea. Available on the new iTunes-only EP "A Stitch in Time" (One Little Indian).
"Mother of Mine," Djivan Gasparyan: One of Armenia's most famous sons, the 68-year-old Gasparyan is a virtuoso of the duduk. An ancient double-reed, oboe-like instrument made of apricot wood, the duduk makes a mournful sound in his hands. Gasparyan is also an affecting singer; this quiet, almost a cappella tune starts with lonely duduk, then has only low harmonium as backing. "Mother of Mine" doesn't come with a translation from Armenian, so it could be a tribute or a lament for her passing. Regardless, his voice is almost impossibly tender and moving, the song feeling as if it could go on as long as he has breath. Available on Gasparyan's Michael Brook-produced masterpiece "Moon Shines at Night" (All Saints, 1992/Rykodisc, 2005).
"Nun Wandre, Maria," Peter Pears and Benjamin Britten: Viennese composer Hugo Wolf -- who went insane and died from syphilis at age 43 in 1903 -- wrote this song, the saddest Christmas tune ever, to an old Spanish poem translated into German. His desolate minor key darkens Joseph's beseeching words of "now onward, Mary" on the hard journey to Bethlehem. As recorded live for the BBC in 1971, Pears' middle-aged tenor is full of plaintive character, enabling the English singer to divine the song's emotional core in a way that eludes others. As a composer himself (and Pears' life partner), Britten is the ideal piano accompanist. Available on a 2000 anthology that also includes Britten-led performances of Schubert (BBC Legends).