Category: Music

Random Shuffle – The Cure, David Grisman And Smokey Robinson

the cure greatest hits

“Just Like Heaven” – The Cure
From Greatest Hits – Acoustic

Does anyone remember the days of scrambled television? Growing up all the cable stations that we weren’t subscribed to (HBO, Showtime, etc.) and all the pay-per-view movies we had not purchased were scrambled in such a way as to make us not want to watch them. The images came out in negatives, and often the picture was split into pieces. The idea, of course, was that no one in their right mind would actually want to watch television in this manner.

The idea was often wrong. I used to watch all manner of programs in this way. I can specifically remember watching the first 48 Hours in this manner. The audio remained good, so I got most of the jokes and could figure out what was going on, and occasionally the image was unbroken enough to actually see what was happening.

There were also, I must admit, a few late-night fumblings watching some adult pay-per-view. You couldn’t see much, but if you squinted right every now and again you might see a negative of a nipple. For a pubescent teenager, this was sometimes enough.

During the early ’90s, when alternative suddenly became a musical buzzword, The Cure did an acoustic pay-per-view special. To say I was a sullen, depressed teenager seems a little beyond the point because aren’t all teenagers sullen and depressed? The Cure, of course, is the poster band for sullen, depressed teenagers the world over. So, of course, I watched the special. And of course, I watched it in the negative, scrambled version.

It was a darn good show, even if Robert Smith looked like some kind of space alien. Come to think of it, maybe I could see him better than I thought.

“Track 02” – David Grisman Quintet
From 04/11/99

Now “Track 02” isn’t actually the name of this song. I’m sure it has an official, proper name, the thing is, no one seems to know it. The majority of Grisman’s songs do not contain lyrics, so you cannot use words to identify the music. Live, the DGQ uses a lot of improvisation and thus the songs don’t necessarily sound like they do on the studio albums.

The show list on etree.org is also silent in terms of song names. This is a database run by thousands (or tens of thousands) of fans that basically has information on every bootleg of every concert ever played in the last hundred years. The fact that no one has updated the show with a single name says a lot.

I once even contacted some of Grisman’s own people asking if they had any setlist information. They replied that they don’t keep track of the songs played, but that if I wanted to send them a copy of the tapes, they’d be happy to identify them for me.

And there we have it – Track 02.

Whatever you want to call it, this is a fine tune. The David Grisman Quintet has been creating its own mix of “Dawg Music” for several decades. It is an odd mix of bluegrass, folk, country, blues, calypso, and Spanish music that comes out in the strangest and most beautiful of ways. There really is no way to describe how it sounds, but it is always worth checking out. Especially that guitarist. Man, he cooks up something exquisite.

smokey robinson

“I Second That Emotion” – Smokey Robinson and the Miracles
From Songs That Inspired The Motown

I attended exactly one semester of graduate school. I moved to Abilene, Texas for such a thing, and while on the drive there I imagined the entire state rising up to sing me Lyle Lovett’s “That’s Right (You’re Not From Texas,)” but mostly nobody noticed my arrival at all. Texans are a strange brew, and that’s all I’ll say about them.

There was a beautiful, kind woman who worked at my apartment office and we became close friends. Initially, I made up small complaints so I could drop by and talk to her, then I gave up all pretense and just started stopping by the office and sitting for a spell.

She’d invite me to dinner, or to help her make popcorn at the local hockey rink, all the while making sure I understood it was nothing but a friendship kick. I didn’t care, it was someone to talk to and I really needed that.

She had a two-year-old son who was just precious. We also became fast friends and would play together for long hours. Once I had to use her facilities, and I could hear him outside saying, “Matchew, Matchew, where are you?” My heart is still broken.

“I Second That Emotion” became a little two-and-a-half-minute piece of ecstasy during this time. It is a song of impenetrable joy. You simply cannot listen to it and not feel happy. I used to write my little apartment friend sticky notes for fun, and one of them read, “‘I Second That Emotion’ makes Mat the happiest.” And it still does.

Plus, it is great fun to agree with someone by saying “I second that emotion.”

Concert Review: Ryan Adams, Paula Cole, Suzanne Vega, Charlie Louvin – Louisville, KY (05/19/07)

After the whole Ryan versus Gillian debacle, I had settled down into a wonderful Ryan Adams groove. I’ve been listening to his music for weeks and generally freaking out about seeing him. My mantra has been “I’m going to see Ryan Adams, I’m going to see Ryan Adams.” The world’s troubles melt away with these words.

We made a day of Louisville, eating some fine food at a Hookah bar, and digging through the record bins at Ear X-Tacy. The doors at the Brown Theatre opened at 6, so we arrived at about 4:30. We weren’t the first. Fanboys and girls abounded.

As a general rule, people tend to annoy me. As a solid, never-bending absolute truth, fanboys piss me off. I get fandom. I get solid adoration of an artist. I simply cannot understand slovenly devotion to a single musician. As we stood in the lobby waiting for the doors we had to stand the asinine fanboy conversations. One boy claimed he would not befriend anyone who was not a Ryan Adams fan. Another made the bold proclamation that the Eagles were better than the Beatles and the Stones, though all three really sucked and Ryan Adams blew them all away.

Someone, please school these boys.

In ways, the fanboys shaped my entire concert experience. We landed a seat in the third row, center, and the hardiest of fanboys were in front of us. I couldn’t help but gauge their reactions and observe their behavior.

Paula Cole started the show. I’ve never much cared for her music, but she carried herself well. The voice wavered from time to time, but the band backed her up sufficiently and it was a good time. After some new songs, and some very awkward talk where she proved herself way too aware of her time out of the spotlight, and the audience’s indifference to her come back she simply nailed “I Don’t Want to Wait.” I had never liked the song before, but it shimmered and glowed on this night.

The fanboys sang along, their faces tinged with irony and scoffing laughter. I may not like Paula, but I respect that she can write her own songs and have the balls to get up and sing them. With feeling.

Next was Charlie Louvin and he tore the roof off. He completely lives up to his legendary status. Even the fanboys were enjoying themselves, even if they were pretending that enjoyment was only in an ironic way.

Even with the irony and a few mocking laughs at his more sentimental songs, Louvin was the consummate professional. He noted that some of the young people might not understand his type of music, but if they listened closely, they just might have a good time anyway. During “Cash on the Barrelhead” he leaned forward inviting one particularly obnoxious fanboy onto the stage to sing along. It was a brilliant moment – embarrassing the fanboy without being vicious or mean, yet still staying within character.

Suzanne Vega was up next and I wondered if most of the audience even knew who she was. She was very much a total professional too. Where Paula Cole seemed too aware of the precariousness of trying to make a comeback in this business, Suzanne let it all roll off her shoulders. She seemed to be saying that she had never left the business, and while the fans may have slipped away, she was always around making her music. Her performance was as unique and quirky as ever. She did a few songs with just her and her bassist and it was beautiful. She closed out with “Luca” and “Tom’s Diner” and the house did seem to remember.

A new NY band, Vietnam hit the next spot. I won’t say they were bad, but they were not what we needed at that point. We were all exhausted and ready for nothing but Ryan Adams. They had their 70’s era Allman Brothers band schtick down pat. Except it wasn’t really schtick, but done completely seriously. It was all rock, no subtlety.

And then he came. Stools were set in a half circle towards the back of the stage. The lights were incredibly dim. Mood I guess. The Cardinals came and then Mr. Adams in a shower cap, hoodie, and dark sunglasses. The recently torn ligament and subsequent cast kept him from playing guitar, but his voice has never sounded better.

He played about half the new album, which hasn’t been released and I didn’t know, but it was all good. The record should be brilliant – kind of subdued and sad, more Heartbreaker than Cold Roses, but genius in the way only Ryan Adams can be.

Throughout everybody’s performances, there was trouble with the monitor speakers. Every performer complained about it and was followed by stagehands running around on stage for a bit. During Ryan’s first song, you could tell it wasn’t fixed for he pointed at the speaker then his finger went into the air dozens of times. By the second song, he had called a stagehand over to chew him out.

“Please don’t piss Ryan off,” Holly begged, for Ryan Adams is a bit notorious for walking off the stage early when he gets pissed. Pissed or not, the performance was magic.

The dim lights turned from blue to red and the shower cap came off. They played an Alice in Chains cover, “Down in a Hole” that turned the auditorium inside out. Just as I began to think this might be the most amazing concert experience of my life Ryan let out a “Thanks” and took off.

Twenty minutes and he’s gone.

Bastard. Son of a monkey. Words I cannot write for my mother might read.

Man, I know you have to keep up your eccentricities. I know it is part of your allure to pull this crap. But it is called being a professional. Did Charlie Louvin walk off because he couldn’t hear himself? Did Paula Cole or Suzane Vega? Man, the Vietnam guitarist just moved over to the one working monitor. We paid good money, drove long distances, and generally did what we could to see you perform. You should at least do your freaking job.

Much cursing ensued during the drive home. But then a fanboy posted videos, and I watched, I listened, I teared up just a little, and I have to say, I forgave.

“Goodnight Rose” – Forgive the lousy video quality, as I said the lighting was terribly dim. But the audio is good.

“Rip Off”

Ryan Adams Versus Gillian Welch

I’ve been putting off telling this story, but as we’re very close to time, and new horrors have occurred, the time to tell is now.

So, a few months back I realized that the lovely, wonderful Gillian Welch was coming to the Ryman in Nashville. This particular performance was in support of the always-interesting Connor Oberst and whatever supporting people he’s calling Bright Eyes. I’m generally a fan of the Bright Eyes and dig the idea of catching them live, but let’s be honest here, it was Gillian at the Ryman. I was so there.

Me, the wife, and my newfound friend Holly procured tickets faster than you can say, “Slap me silly with a ping-pong table.”

Those who know me know my undying love for the lovely, wonderful Gillian Welch and that I have unfortunately missed her last two performances in Bloomington. My soul weeps to this very day due to this fact. I swore a blood oath that I would never miss another Gillian Welch concert. I’d gouge out my eyes rather than do such a thing.

Fast forward a few weeks and I get an e-mail from the good people at the Kentucky Center in Louisville of upcoming events. Turns out a local radio station is doing a listener appreciation thing with Charlie Louvin, Suzanne Vega, Paula Cole, and Ryan freaking Adams. Tickets are $20.

I don’t think, I don’t breathe, I call and purchase three tickets. I anticipate the excitement from Holly who will totally freak out and worship me for days.

As the ticket seller is wrapping up, I get a funny feeling in my belly. The show date is May 19, which suddenly sounds familiar. When are we to see Gillian at the Ryman?

May 19.

No. Freaking. Way.

I have now just purchased tickets (ahem, three tickets) to see Ryan Adams in Louisville on the same date I have tickets to see Gillian in Nashville.

The wife is called in, and the phone is called to Holly. We all cry out.

After days and weeks, we finally decide to see Ryan. Frankly, I was outnumbered, but the consolidation was that Gillian lives in Nashville. Holly lives in Nashville. We’ll catch her some other time.

I’m sorry Gillian. Truly, truly I am. The eyes are being gouged this very second.

Breathe. Feel bad for a moment. Stop listening to Gillian and throw in a little Heartbreaker followed by Gold followed by Cold Roses.

Ryan Adams, here we come!

An interesting, heartbreaking addendum just occurred to this story. Holly sends me an e-mail explaining that the White Stripes will be playing a fairly limited (though she can get tickets) show in Nashville the Friday before Gillian/Bright Eyes/Ryan.

I know it’s you, Gillian, teaching me a lesson. I have learned. Please forgive.

Another heartbreaking newsflash just happened. Ryan has apparently hurt his arm and cannot play guitar for our show. Gillian, I said I had learned, please stop tormenting me!

Dreamin’ Songs – “Damn, Sam (I Love A Woman That Rains)” by Ryan Adams

You really shouldn’t expect more out of me this week than Ryan Adams, Ryan Adams, Ryan Adams. My excitement, while not yet peaking, is reaching all-new heights. I’ve also been listening to him pretty much non-stop for the last week, which explains why he is serving up Dreamin’ Songs twice in a row.

There actually was a non-Ryan song in my head when I first woke up this morning, but instead of waking and writing it down, I drifted back to sleep, and when I awoke a second time this song was stuck in my head.

“Damn Sam” is off of Heartbreaker, which is sometimes my favorite Ryan Adams record (when it isn’t relinquishing its throne to Cold Roses or the unreleased Destroyer.) It is also his most, well, heartbreaking. I simply can’t listen to most of those songs without drowning in a depressed stupor. And this particular song constantly sees me in a puddle of tears.

The thing about it this morning is that I couldn’t remember the opening line. I kept singing, “As a man, I ain’t never been much for….” and I couldn’t remember the rest. I got the follow-up line, “I’m as calm as a fruit stand in New York and maybe as strange,” but that first one kept ending in question marks.

I kept adding in words that might make sense: “picking up dames?” or “lying lame?” I knew it had to rhyme somewhat with “strange,” but that doesn’t leave a lot of options. It tormented me out of bed, into the shower, and through breakfast. Finally moments ago, after finally leaving it alone for a bit, it came during laundry. “as a man, I ain’t never been much for sunny days.”

Ah, that makes tons of sense, since Ryan is kind of a dark dude, and this song is all about his manic obsession with the rain. Seriously the guy throws in a line about the rain at least once an album. He’s the John Cusack of the songwriting business.

Dreamin’ Songs – “Tennessee Sucks” – Ryan Adams

Amazingly, I have not yet mentioned the Ryan Adams/Gillian Welch decision around these parts. I shall surely do my best to discuss that very thing soon. For now, I shall only say that I’m going to see Ryan Adams in less than two weeks.

Because of this, I have been listening to my Ryan Adams records with great dedication. The queer thing is that despite my obsession with Mr. Adams, there are a few records that I have not listened to very often.

The full blame goes to my bootleg collection. I have quite a large stack of bootlegs, and I have a tendency to go for those rather, than the studio albums – with the exception of Gold, Heartbreaker, Cold Roses, Jacksonville City Lights, and occasionally Love Is Hell. That’s a big exception, I know and for the record, the records that have not received a lot of spins are – Demolition, 29, and Rock N Roll.

With the newfound studio dedication, these less-loved albums have received my full attention. I am learning to really love Demolition and 29 is growing on me, though I don’t know if I’ll ever much care for Rock N Roll.

All of this brings me to “Tennessee Sucks,” which is off of Demolition. The album as a whole has continued to grow on me with repeated listens. Where, at first, I found it too soft and depressing, I have learned to appreciate its simple melodies and poetic lyricism. This song is a good example of that with its pretty piano emphasis and it’s the refrain of “Tennessee sucks in the summer/what have you got that can put us under?” Which gets bonus points for mentioning one of my favorite states, and nails a certain teenage feeling I often receive.

The Listening Room: Garth Brooks – “Shameless”

Yeah, I know, Garth freaking Brooks. But I grew up in Oklahoma, which is pretty, much ground zero for Garth Brooks. Every time I go back home my mom tells me about another time she saw Garth eating a sandwich at Burger King or wherever.

I was mostly a metalhead in high school, but the behemoth that is Garth Brooks still kind of got to me. I can remember sitting up in my little attic bedroom late at night, listening to this album really low. Say what you will, but this Billy Joel cover has a mountain of energy and just the right amount of cheezy swagger that still bowls me over.

In my continuing effort to put every piece of music I own on my iPod, I went through my Garth Brooks box set (yes, I have a Garth Brooks box set, it was cheap and you’ll get over it.) I gotta say I went all nostalgic with it and had a few listens and might have dropped a tear or two in my beer.

Be sure to check out what the rest of Blogcritics has in their players.(sorry the blogcritics link no longer works)

Bootleg Country: Pete Seeger and Big Bill Broonzy – Evanston, IL (10/25/56)

There are many thoughts that come to mind when I hear the name Pete Seeger: Socialist, outspoken folkie, encyclopedic knowledge of music worldwide, compatriot to Woody Guthrie, Pinko-Commie, and axe-wielding madman running after an electrified Bob Dylan. It is his love and gift for folk music from around the globe, though, that I hope he will always be remembered.

Listening to Pete Seeger, in concert, is like being with a historian and archaeologist of the world’s music. He seems to know every song ever sung, and to be friends with their writers and singers. He is the soul of America, a true treasure trove of song.

I have a handful of concerts by Seeger, some official, others not, and in everyone is a historical road map of folk. Though he often plays by himself, with banjo for accompaniment, he is never short of musicians, for he makes everyone in the audience part of the band. No, Pete Seeger concerts are not Holy Places where the music is sacred, and the audience mere worshipers. We are part of the song, singers and clappers, and performers one and all. In nearly every song, he points out a chorus or a repeating line that he encourages the audience to sing. Where they can’t sing, he says they can clap and hum.

To be honest, I was not at all familiar with Big Bill Broonzy before I listened to this concert. I’m not particularly well-versed in the blues, and Broonzy is a name that circumvented my musical heritage.

To be even more honest, I’m not one to particularly care for the blues. For the most part, I just don’t *get* it. For his part, Broonzy makes me wish I did. He is of the acoustic blues school, and his tunes are jaunty, even happy at times, and it is a simple pleasure to listen to him sing.

As for positioning, each performer takes turns singing his tunes, song for song for the most part, while the other one sits in the back ground listening. They perform together on a couple of songs, and they spend a lot of time conversing, talking about music, and telling jokes. But mostly it is a solo show, split between two people.

Seeger likes to talk, and I for one, could listen to him talk for days on end. He tells stories about the songs, about the writers of the songs, and of his life. And what a life! He’s been everywhere, done everything. Most people talk in hushed tones about the night Bob Dylan went electric at a folk festival. For Pete, that’s personal history. He was there. He’s the exciting part!

In no way would I consider this a brilliantly performed performance, musically speaking, for Pete doesn’t show off. He seems more interested in creating a community of music, than coming off as a musical savior. In doing so, he creates something special, something different than a simple concert. It is a communal experience akin to a religious service, or family reunion. I don’t suppose there’s anyone who has heard a Seeger concert that will ever forget the experience.

Broonzy is less talkative than Seeger, but shows his own gift of humor by asking if he can sit down whenever Seeger launches into one of his long stories. He plays his guitar with the fervor of a true prodigy and his songs bridge the divide between Seeger’s folk and children’s music.

The highlight of the show is when Seeger plays what he calls the “Goofing Off Suite.” Folk music, he says, needs its own version of chamber music, for the thinking man, so he’s writing his own high-minded piece. If you’ve ever seen the movie Raising Arizona, you will instantly recognize the number. It consists of what must be the main theme of that movie, which if you’ll remember is composed of this incredibly goofy bit of banjo and the wildest bit of yodeling known to man. He even throws in the humming and banjo version of “Ode to Joy” as the middle section.

The first time I heard this I was driving in a heavily trafficked piece of down town. I’m surprised I didn’t get pulled over for all the swerving I did from the tears rolling down my face from laughing.

I am quite saddened to know that I will probably never be able to attend a Pete Seeger concert. His age and health keep him from appearing much in public. But I am heartened by the knowledge that there are these recordings, and that a man like Pete Seeger ever lived and shared his love for great music.

You can download the show over here.

Bootleg Country: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – Las Vegas, NV (10/28/06)

Originally written in December of 2006. Sadly we’ve since lost Petty which only makes this article sadder.

In his 30-year career, Tom Petty has sold more than 50 million albums, received three Grammy awards, a Golden Note award, the Gershwin Award For Lifetime Musical Achievement, and been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So why doesn’t he seem to get more respect?

To me, it stems from his ability to continually knock out solid albums in a steady fashion for all those years. Every couple of years, Petty puts out an album full of solidly good, if not great material. There are usually a couple of standout hits in each, but no album really rises above the rest. Think about it. Is there one Petty album that you would consider to be an absolute classic? What is his Revolver? Or Dark Side of the Moon? Or Blonde on Blonde? No, in my ever so humble opinion, none of his albums quite make it to that genius level.

Petty’s career has remained relatively stable over the last three decades as well. He continues to put out solid albums, record hit songs, and take his band on the road. There haven’t been any giant breakdowns or burnouts. He hasn’t even faded away. No, there has always been a Tom Petty making good songs and churning out classic rock. Where almost all of your great rock bands have all died by one means or another, Petty has remained one of the few rockers to keep truckin’.

I think by continually putting out good, not great albums so steadily it is easy for the casual fan to overlook Petty’s achievement. Without one brilliant album to cling to, his dozen really good ones get overlooked. By never leaving our presence, it’s easy to sort of forget about how remarkable his career really is.

10/28/06
Double Down Stage
Vegoose Music Festival
Las Vegas, NV

You can grab the show here.

One of the great things about Tom Petty’s long career is that he can play a different set list almost every night and still sprinkle it heavily with hit songs. For this performance, he performs half a dozen of his hit singles while mixing in songs from his newest album, Highway Companion, slightly obscure older songs, and a few BB King covers.

The Heartbreakers never veer far from the original versions of the songs, but perform with the vibrant energy only found at live concerts. Occasionally there is an extended guitar solo, but it never wanders far from the song’s melody and always ends way too quickly for these ears. Mike Campbell proves over and over that while he may never make it to any top lists of greatest guitarist lists, he is more than capable of producing sweet licks and charbroiled sounds.

This is a pretty decent audience recording, and as such there is a good blend of the band playing and the audience enjoying the show. The band mixes are a little muddled, so this is nothing to put on your A-list shelf, but the audience is so exuberant and excited in their response and sing-along that I find myself getting swept away in it all. When the light is just right, I close my eyes and almost feel like I’m right there.

Tom Petty may never find the diehard fanship of The Beatles, Dylan, or The Dead, but by continually writing good songs and putting on shows like this, he’s proven to be one of the most steady and long-lasting performers in rock and roll. Not a bad epitaph to have in the end.

Lucinda Williams – Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, Deluxe Edition

car wheels on a gravel road

I’ve mentioned before that Lucinda William’s Car Wheels On A Gravel Road is one of my all-time favorite albums. It stands to be mentioned again.

Car Wheels On A Gravel Road is one of my all-time favorite albums.

It’s a nearly perfect record. It’s full of sadness and heartache, and longing and lust In my review of the alternate version of Car Wheels I mentioned that I once included “Jackson” onto a mix tape I made for my wife long before she was anything but a friend. What I failed to mention was that I long contemplated putting “Right In Time” on there instead.

“Right In Time,” you see, is all about the singer missing her lover deeply, so much so that she turns off the lights, lies down, and does things that I was ultimately not so sure would turn my friend into the sort of girl I was interested in. Oh sure maybe she’d dig it and get the picture and moan awhile with me, but more than likely she’d take such an overt statement of lust into offensiveness and I’d be left all alone, on my own to moan.

Wisdom got the better of me and I chose the sad song instead of the sex song and years later I’m still happily married to that woman.

It is an album full of love, broken lovers, longing, and lust. From the opening song’s lustful longing to the tragic tale of a woman moving on in “Jackson,” it is an album full of dusty back roads, run-down juke joints, and the untold stories of America.

The good people at Lost Highway have seen fit to release Car Wheels in a two-disk Deluxe Edition full of all sorts of bells and whistles. The whole thing has been re-mastered and it sounds full and crisp and beautiful.

They’ve also included three additional songs to the first disk to add to your enjoyment. “Down the Big Road Blues” is a classic blues number and Lucinda sings it like a pro. She hasn’t belted out this kind of hard-core blues since her first album. “Out of Touch” is a full-on weeper that was later included on her follow-up album, Essence. Also included is an alternate version of “Still I Long For Your Kiss,” which you might recognize from the film Horse Whisperer.

For fans, the real treat is the second disk which includes a full live performance for the WXPN World Café radio show. It’s a spirited performance featuring most of the Car Wheels album, plus a handful of older tracks.

For those unacquainted with Lucinda, this is the perfect place to start – you get her finest album in pristine form and some live tracks to round out her older material. For fans, not only do you get a fresh re-master of Car Wheels, plus a few bonus songs but a full disk of unreleased live material.

Lucinda Williams – Alternative Car Wheels On A Gravel Road

Put me on a desert island, make me create a top 10 list, ask me what I’m going to grab while leaping from a fire and you’ll come up with the same answer: Car Wheels On A Gravel Road. It’s right up there in my favorite, all-time anything. Heck, it practically caused my wife to fall in love with me.

Back before my wife was my wife before she was my girlfriend even, we were pals with a predilection for long-distance flirting. I decided to make her a mix tape (for what girl doesn’t love a mix tape?) and included the song “Jackson” from this very Lucinda album we’re discussing. That may seem an odd choice of songs to make a girl like a person, what with the lyrics about not missing the listener when she’s gone, and I suppose it is a little odd. The thing was, there was quite a bit of distance between us at the time and plenty of travel, and anyone can tell that, though the lyrics tell otherwise, the singer is full of nothing but heartbreaking longing.

That mix tape turned out to be the first nudge of the girl who would become my girlfriend who would then become my wife towards becoming all those things. From that one song, she went off and bought other Lucinda Williams albums and has been a fan ever since.

I suspect Car Wheels is an album with a million stories just like that.

The story of the album goes that the record that actually hit the shelves as Car Wheels On A Gravel Road was, in fact, the second version of the album made. It seems, ever the perfectionist, Lucinda recorded the album with Gurf Morlix, but after a few listens scrapped the whole thing and started completely over. Luckily the master tapes for those original sessions were kept and have been making rounds through bootleg circles ever since.

With the re-release of the final version of Car Wheels on a Gravel Road in a two-disk expansion set, I thought I’d visit the original sessions. (And sorry, dear readers, I do not have a copy of this bootleg available to download right now).

While I still have to claim the official album as my favorite version, what landed on the cutting room floor is pretty dang good. I’m really quite surprised she scrapped it in the first place. I’ve paid good money for albums that didn’t sound half this good.

It’s not, in actuality, all that different from what did find its way to the record store shelves. The basic outline for all the songs is here in the original version. The melodies and lyrics are almost identical. The main differences lie in the instrumentation and Lucinda’s vocal delivery.

Where the original version relied heavily on the acoustic guitar, the official version replaces the softer acoustic with the bluesier electric guitar. Lucinda’s vocals are much softer here as well. She sings more straightforwardly, without tons of emotion. It’s a good performance but carries little of the sweat-drenched heartache of the final version.

This is no more apparent than on “Jackson.” The final version is stark in its simplicity and is completely heartbreaking. She sings with such longing that it’s difficult to not fall on your knees weeping after hearing it. Yet in its original form, it’s a much lighter number filled with a fiddle and a two-stepping backbeat. It’s still a beautiful, lovely thing, but completely different in its emotional effect.

“Joy” is the only song that manages to take a completely different turn. Instead of soft acoustics and honky-tonk it throws a curve ball and manages to come out more like snarling funk. It starts with a rolling snake groove and builds into a growl. At just over seven minutes in length, it is the loosest song she’s ever recorded and contains one of the strongest grooves.

There are two additional songs here that didn’t make the final cut on the official version: “Out of Touch,” a Lucinda Williams weeper that found its final resting place in her follow-up album Essence, and “Down the Big Road Blues,” a classic cover song performed like an old Delta bluesman.

It really is a wonderful album in its own right, and though I have to agree with her final decision to recut the entire album, I’m still kind of amazed at what didn’t make it. It’s an incredibly interesting slice of history and some dang fine music for your ears.