John Cale
“Baby What Do You Want Me To Do”
Stockholm 1975 bootleg, 1975John Cale has a long and interesting history when it comes to covers. His “Heartbreak Hotel” is justly famous, his “Pablo Picasso” a travesty that he won’t let go of, and his version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” has become so influential that Cohen himself now performs Cale’s take in concert. But his cover of Jimmy Reed’s “Baby What You Want Me To Do” is a forgotten curio.
In September of 1975, Cale gathered a band to record what would become the album Helen Of Troy. “Baby What You Want Me To Do” was one of the songs recorded that made the cut, which isn’t too surprising for it had been a live feature on his earlier spring tour. What is a surprise is the lifelessness of the recording; by keeping Reed’s mid-tempo and tight construction but doubling its length, Cale makes something light utterly lugubrious.
To hear this lively rendition spring forth from the band just a few short weeks later is a real eye-opener. What prompted them to not only speed it up some, but to turn the blues shuffle into a more aggressive chug? Why is Cale’s vocal delivery so punchy, a growl in place of the almost resigned sigh he used in the studio? Sadly I have no answer those questions. I’d like to imagine everyone involved answering my questions about some bootleg performance nearly 40 years ago, but until I get that dream interview with John Cale I can’t even ask.
Chris Spedding (the lead guitarist on Helen Of Troy and on this concert recording) once wrote about working with Cale. It doesn’t quite answer my question, but the glimpse into the process of recording with and playing in John Cale’s band at least hints at why there could be such major variance:
John Cale was quite enjoyable. He works very hit and miss, though. You don’t get a chance to craft a finished thing. It’s a bit like painting a picture by throwing paint against the wall and seeing what sticks – his way of working. It was interesting. Very effective on stage, but quite frustrating in the studio.
[…]
The Cale band of 1975 was perhaps the most exiting live band I’ve ever played with. John was very challenging and inspiring to play with. I learned a great deal from him. The only disappointing thing was that John failed to recreate the same spontaneity on his records. I had some ideas but he never listened to me.
This live recording sounds like a band listening to each other and following wherever that may lead.
—Erik
Monthly Archives: August 2013
Thin Lizzy – Rockpalast 1981
Tom Waits was getting a little too snapping jive hipster douchebag to close out my night. Here’s a full Thin Lizzy show to clear the palate, recorded live at Rockpalast in 1981.
Tom Waits – Tom Waits For No One
Tom Waits For No One (“The One That Got Away”)
I had no idea this rotoscoped marvel existed! Stunned. Truly stunned.
Tom Waits – “Eggs and Sausage”
Tom Waits on the Mike Douglas Show. “Eggs and Sausage”, and Tom is on a roll.
John Cale feat. Chris Spedding – “Buffalo Ballet”
“Buffalo Ballet” by John Cale, live with Chris Spedding. Always worth the time.
Midsummer Rock: June 13, 1970
Midsummer Rock: June 13, 1970 at Crosley Field in Cincinnati, Ohio. Featuring The Stooges, Alice Cooper, Traffic, Mountain, and Grand Funk Railroad.
Oh yeah.
AC/DC – Live in Cleveland
AC/DC, live in Cleveland in 1979.
See you in 45 minutes.
(via Adrien on twitter)
Jack “King” Kirby
This is Jack Kirby. He was always the King.
Hawkeyes – Poison Slows You Down
Stacks: Screaming Trees
Screaming Trees
“Winter Song”
Swede Oblivion bootleg, 1993While on a world tour to promote their breakthrough album Sweet Oblivion, Screaming Trees stopped into Swedish radio station Radiohuset for an interview and a four song unplugged set. They played the first two singles, “Nearly Lost You” and “Dollar Bill”, as well as “No One Knows” and this track, “Winter Song”. The hits are pretty close to studio renditions, beyond the lack of fuzz and the slightly questionable use of what appear to be bongos. They’re good, but nothing revelatory; a curio. “No One Knows” loses some of its anthemic qualities, but holds true to its tempo and Mark Lanegan sells it like the fine balladeer he is.
However, “Winter Song” is something different. On Sweet Oblivion, it’s a mid-tempo psych tune like dozens that are peppered throughout the Trees catalog, akin to “Walk Through This Side” or “Cold Rain”. But unplugged, de-psyched, and wah-wahless, it’s a different thing altogether. In this version, as the tempo slows the darkness rises. It seems the drums and a gnarly solo on the original kept the despair from hammering itself through the listener’s skull. Stripped down for this radio show the bleakness is pretty unbearable.
I love it.
—Erik