This week, I want to explore a theory of mine. It might be kind of crazy. As far as I know, I'm the only person who thinks this. But hear me out.
In rap and hip-hop, there's always been this whole east coast/west coast rivalry... thing. But I don't think it's exclusive to hip-hop. I wouldn't exactly call it a rivalry--as I said, I'm the only person who seems to have picked up on this. And I only really noticed it because of this week's artist. Please... allow me to explain...
When I listen to many artists that made names for themselves during the "singer-songwriter" movement of the late 1960s and early 1970s, I do notice that, like hip-hop artists, their music does tend to have a certain east or west coast vibe to it. On the west, you can hear it in the songs of The Mamas and Papas; The Byrds; Buffalo Springfield; Crosby, Stills, Nash and/or Young; Joni Mitchell; The Eagles; Warren Zevon; and Randy Newman. You can possibly even trace it back to The Beach Boys before that. There's a certain mellowness that comes through in their music. After all, it was The Eagles who, with a "Peaceful Easy Feeling," told us to "Take It Easy."
On the other side of the continent, artists like Paul Simon, Carole King, James Taylor, Carly Simon, and even Bruce Springsteen, were writing their songs--many with some of the same messages as their west coast counterparts--but with a different vibe to it. I can't really explain the difference verbally. It's more of a feeling than anything else. Maybe it's the time difference, I don't know...
To be clear, I'm not advocating for a rivalry here. As a fan of all of the artists I mentioned above, I would even find it hard to pick a side. And obviously other regions had an impact on the artists that emerged from them. I could write a doctoral thesis on how the south affected the music of Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers, and Jimmy Buffett. Bob Dylan, Bob Seger, and John Mellencamp all have a midwestern feel to their music. And I haven't even mentioned British artists. And I'm not saying any one style is better or superior to any other. And truthfully, I'm not sure I would have noticed it at all had it not been for one artist.
I often say that I lose a lot of rock snob street cred points by admitting that I'm a fan of Billy Joel. So be it. If he did nothing else, he made me love the sound of the piano. I would even go as far as to say it's my favourite musical instrument... well... it's tied with the bagpipe.
Joel's Greatest Hits Volume I and Volume II was a staple in CD players when I was in college. My freshman year, I lived on the fourth floor of my residence hall. One afternoon, I took a walk around the floor just to clear my head. I counted at least six rooms playing that album in the brief time I was out walking. And, had I been in my room, there's a distinct possibility that I would have been playing it too.
Toward the end of that year, I started exploring beyond the Greatest Hits. My roommate, Jake, had a cassette of 1977's The Stranger which included three songs I'd never heard on the radio as well as the full-length recording of "Just the Way You Are." I realized that the Greatest Hits used a lot of "single edits," a notion which, over time, I learned to despise. Before too long, I bought all of his albums. I also started reading any kind of literature I could find on the Piano Man.
I found that Joel started out in the 1960s when he was still a teenager. He was rumoured to have played on some of Phil Spector's "Wall of Sound" recordings, although I've never been able to verify this, let alone find out which songs he might have played on. He later played in a psychedelic band called The Hassles. They recorded two albums for United Artists Records between 1967 and 1969, but they were never hugely successful. The label dropped them and the band dissolved. Joel, along with Hassles drummer Jon Small, formed Attila, a two-man heavy metal/psychedelic outfit who recorded one self-titled album in 1970 that is notorious for being considered possibly the worst album in the history of rock 'n' roll--even Joel himself described it as "psychedelic bullshit."
(I humbly disagree with that assessment. I've actually explored that album in these weekly "sermons"--twice! Perhaps I may add it to this blog as one of my "Bonus" "From the Vault" entries.)
After the implosion of Attila, Joel moved to Los Angeles to pursue a solo career. Most famously, he worked in a piano bar, the experiences of which inspired his signature song, "Piano Man." He recorded his first three solo albums between 1971 and 1974 with session musicians. By 1975, he had started recording his next album but was dissatisfied with the early results. He had also grown dissatisfied with L.A. and decided to move back to New York. Which brings me back to my east coast/west coast theory.
I've always felt that Joel's 1974 album, Streetlife Serenade, is his weakest album. It's not that it's a bad album. The songs are solid and well written and he sang them... well. But when I listen to it--especially when I compare it to his later work, it just sounds to me like he almost doesn't belong there. He's a man out of place. He's an east coast songwriter stuck on the west coast. Worse than that--he's an east coast songwriter trying to sound like a west coast songwriter.
After moving back to New York, Joel began re-recording his next album, this time producing it himself and using his touring band instead of session musicians. The end result became a turning point for Joel. He began to make more of a name for himself and--with the exception of his 2001 "classical" album--every album he recorded after that was at least a Top 10 hit in the U.S.
But, to me, it all starts with this week's album--an east coast album recorded by an east coast songwriter who knows who he is and isn't trying to sound like anyone else. Featuring the now-standard "New York State of Mind," from 1976, please enjoy Turnstiles.
(SPECIAL GEEK NOTE: If you're only familiar with Joel's Greatest Hits, you may notice a slight difference in the recording of "New York State of Mind." The saxophone solo is different from what was on the original album. Interestingly, when the albums were re-mastered in 1997, the CD of Turnstiles, for some reason, included the Greatest Hits version of "New York State of Mind." I haven't listened to subsequent re-issues, so I don't know if this was ever changed back.)
I will be taking a couple of weeks off in order to spend time with family. Until I return, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.
Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!
The Reverend Will the Thrill
No comments:
Post a Comment