Considerately Forgotten – Gregg Allman’s ‘Laid Back’

 

Gregg hits from the heart

Maybe this album being a product of its time (1973) was going to be an easygoing template to the improv-jams of Southern Rock. And wasn’t Gregg Allman fatefully married to the Elf of pop Cher? What strange ju ju were the casualties of 60s pop/rock stardom on come 1977. It was more fumblings for directions in bad ideas than good ideas at all – and some unhealthy addictions.

So. Laid Back Sessions is what the album equates to be – and well before any of the shit hit the fan. The songs are crafted with a direction in mind, not only do they lend to a more song-based chorus arched focus, but guitars are dimmed and the soulful growl and almost pitch perfect arrangements are set by Gregg. These are songs – escuse the term – that are lived in. They’re songs played and arranged and weighed up for a common goal which is to hit the listener gently in the heart. Best served with a cold beer looking at the sun set on warm summers day.

The Allman Brothers‘ rapid rise into the rock ‘canon’ had already been visible when they started becoming credited with the stylings of Southern rock. Gregg had seen the death of brother, the lead guitarist Duane just 2 years previous and was honing a less guitar dependent sound on the Brothers and Sisters (1973). Laid Back was released just amidst and after recordings of Brothers.. and has that easygoing country led stylings. But this is also an album that demonstrates Gregg’s earthy voice and skill at arranging songs old or new and making them his. Soulful and restrained. Gregg Allman’s Laid Back illustrates a musician not just kicking back but honing what could be heard as a healing impulse to the music that survives. All My Friends: ‘It’s all gone, for the last time it seems
And it’s a shame, all the feelings were lost in our scheme’

Laid Back offsets Gregg’s ability at arranging songs that are contained to his soulful gospel charge and display the essences of R&B, Soul, Blues, Gospel, and Country Rock. This was the time when pop music was disposed to the freedoms of reinvention and, the much uttered Gram Parsons ideal of a ‘melting pot’ of music. It’s not surprise that Stephen Stills sprawling masterpiece Manassas was released the year previous. But Gregg takes it to the elements of the song as opposed to the sprawl of cross-country and culture borderlines. Interestingly, Clapton had Duane play on Layla, and though Gregg didn’t feature on the album, ‘Queen of Hearts’ illustrates the affinity that Clapton had for affecting the soul sounding voice of Gregg and the Allmans.

The opener is a cover of the Allmans’ ‘Midnight Rider’. A sound of things to come. Restrained in comparison to the original, other than axe for hire Tommy Talton, the guitar licks lack any prominence in the songs and support the sum-of-the parts. Gregg’s organ playing is a constant, perhaps even to the point being anodyne.

It’s no surprise that the album is peppered with a few covers, standards of R&B and Gospel (‘Will the Circle be Broken’), or the Scott Boyer ballad ‘All My Friends’. Gregg distils these songs and makes them his own, even the lyrical references sound his own. No more is this displayed than on the Jackson Browne‘s ‘These Days’. Perhaps this is a highlight, but the album never falters from this tone and tenderness.

Considerately forgotten when hidden behind the lumbers of the Allmans Brothers back catalogue, but without brother Duane Greggs album wouldn’t sound so moving. In the words of Gregg:

“My brother always felt, and I learned from him, that if you lay down a sound, if it’s a hit in your heart, then it’s a hit. I don’t care how many it sells or how many like it or whatever – play what you want to play and stick to your guns.”

Stick to your guns and listen to this album.

Territorios Music Festival, Seville, 20-21 May 2011

An Eclectic Mix of Spanish and English Speaking Bands – Let the Good Times Roll in Seville

So Terriotorios music festival may not pull waves of foreigners to Seville or even be considered outside Andalusia, however there were enough willing festival-goers from the city to make the weekend swarm with drunken Brits, Americans and the odd local.

Set in the atmospheric grounds of the Monastario De Cartuja, this is site of the current Contemporary Art Museum set within the grounds are towering chimneys that used to mass-produce ceramics that adorn the city and typify the Andalusian town houses. It was a cosy affair. Four stages each varying in size set in different nooks and crannies of the grounds.

First night nerves quickly evaporated as The Fall took to the second stage (Cruzcampo Stage). As punters were forced get their head around the beer token system and lack of bars. Mark E. Smith and his stalwarts kicked off. His characteristic drawl and half intonated lyrics stumbled over the heads of everyone. The wide-eyed boy from Salford was on form. Submitting second language speakers of English to a masterclass in rambled lyricism – ever watched him recit ethe football results? Picking the strong parts from their last album: ‘Your Future Our Clutter’. The drawl and spit of ‘Bury pt 1 & 2′ set a standard that never dimmed – ‘one day a spanish king with a council of bad knaves tried to come to Bury’.

The band have been touring the album for over a year now and it showed. Live they were at full strength, microphones, sound effects and a stumbling Mark E. Smith looked certain to corrupt the sound if it appeared too varnished. The awkward squad was setting the limits. ‘Mexican Wax Solvent’, ‘Funnel of Love’ and ‘ Cowboy George’ were great examples why The Fall still make great music which kicks the guts out of any preening indie pups.

Also the first night saw: The Cordoban legendary guitarist Raimundo Amador pull a massive crowd with his flamenco/Hendrix stylings. Accomplished doesn’t begin to describe his polished sounds. Unfortunately he didn’t restrain himself to any of his previous collaborations with Howe Gelb on ‘Algerias’ album, nevertheless he set a glittering standard that the crowd lapped up.

Stock festivals favourites: Razhel, Asian Dub Foundation, and Too Many DJs played up to 6am. ADF had the whole main stage jumping to urban tunes – it was like I was back at Glastonbury 1997. Also, highlighting the night was Nach the answer to Spanish hip-hop showing off his posture and slick skills at the mike. Impressive, if only if I could understand what he was going on about.

So onto the second night. A call to arms for a rave. Orbital billed as the headliners on the main stage. With the Femi Kuti entourage kicking up the rhythms on the second stage. Before awaiting either of these bands. I sat through a benign and sometimes beautiful Russian Red a spanish singer-songwriter Lourdes Hernadez who sings in English, quite a feat for a country that is proud of its langauge and at times reluctance to adopt the English-speaking monopoly. She has the attributes of being gorgeous and talented. Reminscent of Feist or Joanna Newsom-like warble.

The night started with the urbane sarcasm of The Divine Comedy now aka Neil Hannon. Still on fine form after his release of ‘Absent Friends’ nearly 7 years ago. The whimsical pop set brought back memories of those Brit-Pop times when it was alright to write a slice of social commentary with some humour and a pop melody. He also played ‘songs of love’ from Father Ted and a stomping rendition of the nearly-eurovision classic ‘My Lovely Horse’. ‘…..where are you going with your fetlocks flowing…’. A strange highlight to the evening.

The Human League limped on and off as a strange parody of themselves, more wooden that electric 80s synth pop. It felt like all the crowd were waiting for was a classic not a ‘this is an anti-war song’ (yawn!!!!!!), more A-level than pop. They did finally get there act together but by then the crowd were pawing the ground and ready to leave. The encore consisted of: ‘Don’t You Want Me’ / ‘Love Action’. Perhaps too late though.

Time for the Klaxons who put on a decent live show a lot more energy and driven passion than the previous effort. Mosh-pits even formed in consequence.

The night faded to Orbital taking the stage at 4am and playing what they do best stomping, ambient dance tunes until the sun rises. Perhaps, Orbital lacked the stages of Glastonbury but there wasn’t a loose foot in the house, ‘oh is this the way they say the futures meant to feel or just 20,000 people standing in a field’.

A growing and popular festival seems capable of getting bigger if not better and better. Until next year at the Monastery.

Mark Kozelek. Happily Constrained

Mark Kozelek – Wednesday 16^th, Seville, Teatro Central. 9pm-10.30pm

Intimately sincere

Suitably Mark Kozelek is armed with only his guitar and a dimly lit stage. As he lopes awkwardly out of the dark he humorously ‘thanks all 5 people for coming’. Fittingly, tonight Kozelek’s skill and sheer discipline as a performer steers the audience into the inevitable – of wanting more.

Kozelek is touring his 2010 album ‘Admiral Fell Promises’ which found him finding new inspirations in the classical guitar and the intensity of flamenco rhythms. Seville is an apt setting then for an album that is inflected with odes to love and loss and austere settings backed by intricate and generous flamenco tunings. Kozelek seems to have been practising; rarely flashy his slight and muted finger picking owes as much to the continuous slow rise of sweet melodies than to Kozelek’s rich and sombre voice.

Admiral Fell Promises is an album of ruminative dramas about people and places coupled with Kozeleks characteristic sparse arrangements.  With no instrumentation but a nylon stringed guitar, the intimacy of the album isn’t lost when translated on stage. ‘Third and Seneca’ one the albums peaks is beautifully interpreted on stage, interludes swell the songs incumbent meanings down ghosted highways meandering North American Motels and surf scared bays. Hearing ‘Half Moon’ live the predictable instrumental codas that cap the song punctuate the short verses with hidden depth and deft finger work. It’s even more apparent that Kozeleks delivery owes as much to his disciplined guitar arrangements as to the gravitas and directness of his voice.

The album has said to have polarised it’s listeners with its Spanish-styled guitar, the minimal interludes and the bereft crunch of electric guitars. But this is Mark Kozelek and when he plays ‘Alesund’ the nuanced riffs and fluttering fills makes perfect sense. With every listen there’s new territory to embrace from the familiar, one can’t but be absorbed in the internal narratives and the intensely perfected ambience rather than a downcast driving rhythm. With the exception of a delicate rendition of ‘Like the River’ all songs come courtesy of Admiral.

Perhaps lacking from the performance was the rapport and banter between the audience and performer. Kozelek always comes across as a witty guy and the relief of some humour between the concentrations of songs left Kozelek seemingly reproachful: ‘it’s like playing to a bunch of corpses’ was his quip. But responses from the audience don’t always belie the intention. As he finished the set with the beautiful instrumental passages of ‘Australian Winter’, the hushed silence was broken with the request of encores. Coerced into new stylings and hushed narratives I’m left feeling the ache of his regrets. Kozelek seems more than happy constrained to intimacy.