BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS: B, S & T 4 (1971)
1) Go Down Gamblin'; 2)
Cowboys And Indians; 3) John The Baptist; 4) Redemption; 5) Lisa, Listen To Me;
6) A Look To My Heart; 7) High On A Mountain; 8) Valentine's Day; 9) Take Me In
Your Arms (Rock Me A Little While); 10) For My Lady; 11) Mama Gets High; 12) A
Look To My Heart (duet).
An unexpected improvement upon the band's
disappointing third album — suddenly, the band wakes up and remembers that
writing songs can be as much fun as covering them (not to mention much more
satisfactory in the financial scheme of things). Nine out of eleven tunes are
originals, and a tenth one is contributed by Al Kooper, still the «blood» of
the band where Clayton-Thomas could have been its «sweat» (and the proper
«tears» had yet to come). Only one bona fide cover remained, because what is a Clayton-Thomas era BS&T album
without an authentic cover of an R&B standard? Original songwriting be damned,
nothing can get an audience on its
feet as effectively as good old Motown — and ʽTake Me In Your Armsʼ is as good
a choice as anything.
The point is not that Clayton-Thomas, Katz,
Halligan, and Lipsius suddenly turned into genius songwriters. The point is,
their investment in trying out new chord combinations gives the band a sense of
purpose, even if that purpose is rarely satisfied. Most amazingly, it seems to
somehow procure some much needed dignity for David's voice: be it on the
introspective country waltz of ʽCowboys And Indiansʼ, on the tough blues-funk
of ʽRedemptionʼ, or on the courteous folk balladry of ʽFor My Ladyʼ, he sounds
a little more thoughtful and a little less flashy / corny than he did on most
of 3. A little original songwriting
may go a longer way than one usually thinks?.. Or is it just a misguided gut
feeling?
The decision to start out on a hard rock note,
most likely influenced by the Zep-dominated tastes of the time, does feel
somewhat pathetic, especially considering that ʽGo Down Gamblin'ʼ isn't really
much of a classic — its generic and not particularly memorable blues chords are
not even much of a match for the brass riff of ʽLucretia Mac Evilʼ. Competing
with the «monsters of rock» did not pay off: thoughtlessly released as a
single, the song only went as high as #32, and why should it have gone any higher, with the market already
oversaturated with bulgy riff-rockers? (And most of the fans of bulgy
riff-rockers had little interest in hearing a bunch of sissy brass instruments overclouding
the guitars, anyway).
But it gets better from there: ʽCowboys And
Indiansʼ exudes some simplistic nostalgic sentimentalism — co-written by
Halligan with Terry Kirkman from The Association, it challenges David to
convince us that the protagonist does
prefer, nowadays, to «play the Indian» rather than «play the cowboy», and in
order to do that, the guy chooses the «mumble-in-your-beard» style that suits
him much better than the Tom Jones posturing. The song is written in relatively
free style, more like a distracted Van Morrison type of rambling than a
verse-chorus thing, but the brass arrangement gives it a bit of grizzled-heroic
atmosphere, and ultimately, it works.
ʽRedemptionʼ is more impressive for its funky
instrumental section, with plenty of punch contributed by the bass and drums,
than for any main melody, but, unlike ʽSympathy For The Devilʼ, this is a
groove that they worked out all by themselves, and it is far more effective.
ʽLisa, Listen To Meʼ is a pretty damn good «roots-pop» ditty, too, highlighted
by a classic fuzzy psycho-riff from Katz — by all means, it should have been
the first single from the album, not
the second one: by the time it hit the market, ʽGo Down Gamblin'ʼ had already
flopped, and the band was spinning down commercially at an alarming rate.
The second side of the LP is unexpectedly
dominated by Katz compositions: formerly relegated to the duty of contributing
one or two lushy-mushy folk ballads per LP, he now has a whoppin' four
songwriting credits — of which only two are ballads (ʽValentine's Dayʼ sung by
Katz himself); ʽHigh On A Mountainʼ is a slow and rather boring attempt at a
hymn, and ʽMama Gets Highʼ is a piece of old-school vaudeville, which would
probably not be deemed good enough for Cabaret,
let alone a respectable rock band. All of which just goes to re-confirm the old
truth about sleeping dogs — Katz was not improving as a songwriter by expanding
his range. Still, somehow, I'd rather have these limp attempts at living than
yet another bunch of Traffic, Laura Nyro, and The Band covers. (Speaking of
which, Al's ʽJohn The Baptistʼ sounds uncannily like a Band song from circa
1969 — and, what's even more funny, Al's own
version of the song, released the same year, is so much more overproduced and
stuffed with brass overdubs that it ends up sounding more like typical Blood,
Sweat & Tears than the BS&T version!).
Cutting a long story short, very little of this
stuff is impressive, but it holds together well, and the album as a whole is a «moderate
grower», becoming a wee bit more friendly and invigorating with each new listen
rather than the opposite. Unfortunately, 1971 was not a good year for «moderate
growers»: the public, already disappointed with what had been offered to them the
year before, could do with nothing less than a strong jolt, and a strong jolt
is one thing that BS&T4 does not
manage to deliver even once — ʽLisa, Listen To Meʼ is a good song, but much too
plain to attract the required attention. Alas, the lack of commercial success shattered
the band's self-confidence, and what could have been a new humble beginning
proved instead to be the beginning of the end.
Check "B, S & T 4" (CD) on Amazon
Check "B, S & T 4" (MP3) on Amazon
"And most of the fans of bulgy riff-rockers had little interest in hearing a bunch of sissy brass instruments overclouding the guitars, anyway."
ReplyDeleteHammer, nail, head. They (like me) could relatively often appreciate power pop and prog rock, including the bombast of Keith Emerson, but hardly the ingenuity of say Gentle Giant. That band learned that the hard way when opening for Black Sabbath during a short tour.
The usage of brass and violins (I played that instrument myself back then) in the 70's was invariably considered sissy indeed, unless perhaps you did it like Stevie Wonder with Superstition.
As I got interested in pop/rock in 1976 you won't be amazed that I either don't know or don't remember Go Down Gambling.
When did GG open for Sabbath? That would be a weird bill.
DeleteIn 1972 at the Hollywood Bowl, just before they embarked on their "Octopus" tour. they were booed and heckled as they pulled out the violins and cellos for "Funny Ways", and then someone threw a cherry bomb on to the stage. Phil Shulman ushered everyone off and then screamed at the crowd "You guys are a bunch of fucking cunts." I believe this was one of the factors that prompted him to leave the band soon after.
DeleteI would have gone to that show for both acts. The goofy stoner heavy metal godfathers + the most eccentric act in prog rock? Sold!