Ray Manzarek (1939 - 2013)

Manzarek is pictured on the far left

Back in the late 60s I listened to The Doors largely because of Jim Morrison's big, booming voice. He remains, to this day, one of the great rock singers of all time. However, over the years listeners discovered just how much the late Ray Manzarek (who passed away this week) contributed to the sound and overall success of the band.

When you listened beyond the vocals it became obvious that The Doors' first single and most famous song, "Light My Fire," was really a vehicle for keyboard player Manzarek to show off his stuff. As the album version of the song morphed into an organ fueled jam session that was never heard on Top 40 radio you realized just how talented he was. With his ability to improvise Manzarek could have been a fine jazz musician.

To me, Manzarek's greatest moment came on "Riders on the Storm." He played some very spooky electric piano that complemented both Morrison's vocals and the thunderstorm sound effects that were a major part of the piece. Close your blinds, turn out the lights, and listen to "Riders" in total darkness. Manzarek's playing made the song totally, perfectly eerie.

The Doors were one of the rare major rock bands who didn't have a bass player so, to get the deep sounds, Manzarek often played a Fender Rhodes bass keyboard with his left hand while playing organ or piano with his right hand.

While Morrsion, The Doors' most prominent and controversial figure, became headline news Manzarek has gone down in history as one of the few keyboardists to consistently use his instruments as a centerpiece for much of their band's repertoire. He contributed as much to the group as Morrison ever did. It's easy to visualize that without Manzarek The Doors may not have become the huge legends they still are more than forty years after their first hit.

Michael Bublé - To Be Loved (2013)

Working with Bob Rock, his new producer, may have inspired Michael Bublé (not that he's ever sounded as if he's needed inspiration) because on To Be Loved the singer soars through fourteen new entries to his catalog as if he's never had this much fun in his life.

Bublé's public persona is that he's too nice of a guy to have traveled with the original Rat Pack but, as usual, musically he would fit right in with his updated, 21st century, version of the old gang's act. The Pack's leader, (Frank Sinatra, of course) would wholeheartedly approve of Bublé's swaggering version of "You Make Me Feel So Young" that opens the album as well as his duet with Reese Witherspoon on "Something Stupid." "Young at Heart" also rivals Old Blue Eyes' more famous arrangement.

Among the older offerings is one of the first country songs to crossover onto the pop charts. "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You" (not the Van Morrison - Rod Stewart song) was a hit for a husband and wife team, Lulu Belle and Scotty, way back in 1945. Buble's new version almost sounds, but not quite, as if The Jordinaires are backing him up.

Other gems include a Latin-flavored interpretation of Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn's "Come Dance With Me" and The Puppini Sisters harmonize superbly on "Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You)."

More recent fare includes Smokey Robinson's "Who's Lovin' You," a very nice cover of an old Bee Gees' chestnut, "To Love Somebody," and Randy Newman's "You've Got A Friend In Me."

The most soulful track the classy star ever laid down, the title song, was originally put on vinyl by Jackie Wilson a long time ago.

The CD has four co-written originals, the most ever to appear on a Bublé disc. On their joint effort, "After All," The Canadian duets with his fellow countryman, Bryan Adams. It's the most rocking number he ever released. The new single, "It's A Beautiful Day," at times reminds the listener of his recent classic "Haven't Met You Yet."

Overall, this exuberant and eclectic album is quite possibly the singer's best release to date (I think I may have said that about his last one). For his fans it's a must listen.

Forgotten Music Thursday: The Chieftains - Long Black Veil (1995)

The Chieftains attempted to widen their audience with the release of Long Black Veil in 1995.

This very cool CD featured many classic rock and pop musicians (all except for Ry Cooder come from the British Isles) singing lead vocals on mostly traditional songs. The arrangements makes you feel as if the guest stars lived with these folk songs on a daily basis because, to their credit, the Chieftains don't try to sound like a modern rock band. They play these songs with their traditional Irish folk instruments using their own natural style and special gifts.

The Rolling Stones assist on "The Rocky Road to Dublin" while Mick Jagger alone tackles the title track. Mark Knopfler lends both his singing and producing skills to "The Lily of the West" while Welshman Tom Jones' version of "Tennessee Waltz" is so heartfelt that you momentarily forget his Vegas lounge-lizard image. (There's obviously a lot more to Jones than what meets the eye.) Sting and Sinead O'Connor are also among the participants on a set that tries to cross over into pop-rock without really doing so.

The only track I could live without is Marianne Faithfull's lead vocal on "Love Is Teasin'" and that is because the years have not been very kind to her voice. Other than that misstep Long Black Veil offers us some excellent music. It's also an important album to the traditional Irish folk world because it opened up the genre to a whole new audience that would have normally ignored this stellar Irish band.

Boz Scaggs - Memphis (2013)

Some artists never lose their god-given gifts and those whose talents include a deeply embedded soul tradition seldom lose theirs if they continue to make music from the heart. Such is the case with William Royce "Boz" Scaggs who proves on his new CD, Memphis, that his music is as fresh and vital as it's ever been.

Scaggs' new musical love letter to the Tennessee town's grand musical tradition includes a host of ten well chosen classic soul covers sandwiched in between two new originals that open and close the set.

While the veteran's own tunes on Memphis are nice enough the San Francisco native uses the album to prove without a doubt that he is one of the great interpreters of other people's work. In fact one might even say this is a more satisfying effort than his slightly slick, more mainstream, 1976 classic, Silk Degrees.

What's interesting about Memphis is that it's both smooth and gritty at the same time. Scaggs is one of the few artists who can create a strong groove without raising the volume or speeding up the music's pace to overly energetic levels. Both his voice and band contribute greatly to the relaxed but bluesy vibe.

On Scaggs' own "Gone Baby Gone" and Al Green's "So Good To Be Here" he channels the latter so well that if you're only listening to the music as background you may actually believe it's the old reverend himself. Later Scaggs' demonstrates that his earthier, full-bodied, baritone is more versatile than Green's on Tony Joe White's "Rainy Night in Georgia."

Willie DeVille's "Mixed Up Shook Up Girl" has a lively percussion based arrangement and there is a really nice version of Moon Martin's "Cadillac Walk."

Keb Mo' adds some hot dobro to "Dry Spell" and bluesman Jimmy Reed's "You Got Me Cryin" could find a home on a juke box in any seedy, back roads, greasy spoon. At the same time the singer's usual smoothness prevents either from getting so down and dirty that they would turn away a listener looking for something more glossy.

The traditional "Corrina Corrina" features Spooner Oldham with some very cool organ work and The Moments' oldie, "Love on a Two-Way Street," is ultra-classy in Scaggs' hands. An unusual choice, Steely Dan's "Pearl of the Quarter," is another highlight.

The primary band behind the star includes producer Steve Jordan on drums with Ray Parker Jr. on guitars and Willie Weeks on bass. Scaggs contributes both electric and acoustic guitars.

Memphis is an album Scaggs should be proud of.

Dropping The Big One

Even though I grew up with the generation that let their "freak flag fly" (thank you for that, David Crosby) the musicians of that era seldom used language that was considered inappropriate in polite society on their recordings.

Steppenwolf's "The Pusher" used a word similar to "darn" along with the deity's name and John Lennon used the English language's most infamous four letter word on "Working Class Hero" from his LP, Plastic Ono Band. Nils Lofgren employed the same word in "I Had Too Much" from Grin's first album. Billy Joel dropped it in one of his attempts to win over critics on "Laura" from The Nylon Curtain. There may have been a couple more examples but not many.

Call me old, stodgy, out of touch, narrow-minded, or whatever insult suits you, but the current generation of musicians seems to have no qualms about using this word that begins with the sixth letter of the alphabet quite routinely in their songs. It doesn't bother me to hear Tony Soprano utter it on TV, or Joe Pesci being his usual foul-mouthed self in a movie, or when I'm hanging with a bunch of male friends, but somehow it irritates me no end when musicians use it in their songs.

Perhaps I feel this way because one of the major criteria music lovers use to judge the worthiness of a composer's output is their lyrical content. To prove my point, except for a few guitar heroes, who are the most revered rock musicians? They're usually the ones who are known for having something to say in their songs. You know their names: Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, and Jackson Browne just to name a few. More recently, bands like Mumford & Sons and Dawes can be included in that group.

The difference between the heritage rockers and these new kids on the block is that the former were consistently writing relevant, meaningful, and poetic words without resorting to the basest forms of the English language. The latter? Not so much.

Unfortunately, Mumford couldn't resist swearing on "Little Lion Man," the hot band's big song from their first album. They used the word so frequently that I almost wrote the band off before I discovered how good they actually are.

The thing that set me off today is Dawes, the Southern California quartet heavily influenced by Browne and other similar West Coast folk-rockers, who, in 2011, issued one of the better rock albums of the first half of the decade, Nothing is Wrong. The song that closed their fantastic CD, "A Little Bit of Everything," is one of the most moving and literate rock songs a band has issued in many years. You may have heard it, "Time Spent in Los Angeles," and "Fire Away" on radio stations that play modern rock.

I was really looking forward to Dawes' latest, Stories Don't End, released this past Tuesday. As I was listening to it online while preparing to make the big purchase, I sampled all of the album's tracks. Unfortunately, on "Hey Lover" they dropped the big bomb that was almost immediately followed by another crudity. In my humble opinion, lead singer and lyricist, Taylor Goldsmith, is too good of a writer to fall into this trap of low standards.

It's possible the old guard popsters weren't really classier. Maybe they held their tongues in the studio because the only outlet for the public to embrace their work was on FCC controlled conventional radio. Today, the existence of satellite radio, cable, and the Internet, none of which are regulated as heavily as the AM and FM radio bands, means the artists no longer have to hold back.

Note to Dawes: Because you were not careful with your words I now have to watch who's around when I play your new album and I'm already disappointed with it even though I haven't heard a complete song yet. In the end I'm sure I'll like Stories Don't End very much, and I'll say so here, but I don't think I'll ever get over my initial disappointment.