Wednesday, October 7, 1998
Classic rock aids souls of those born under a bad sign
COLUMN: ‘Blues’ album by Jimi Hendrix showcases extraordinary
guitar work, makes emotional connection to listeners
By Brent HopkinsThere are tons upon tons of music journals. Go
down to your local newsstand – you’ll see loads of them, about the
latest albums, songs, bands, artists, gossip, whatever. You’ve got
to look pretty hard, however, to find articles devoted to older
music. You might find references about the latest geeks from
Britain who are "the next Beatles," but you don’t see too much
about the original artists and their work.
Well, that’s lame. It’s cool to find out about what’s new and
exciting, but do you ever wonder about the other albums in the
racks at the record store? Ones that you haven’t read a review for
because they came out more than a month ago? Albums that the
critics didn’t feel the need to trip over themselves to review?
Well, I think that some of those deserve some recognition. And
where better to start than with one of this century’s most talented
artists?
It doesn’t matter if you’re going away to Tahiti, living the
high life, sitting at home or going to die tomorrow, the one album
which you should make sure you have is Jimi Hendrix’s "Blues." If
you own it, congratulate yourself. If your collection lacks it,
drop what you’re doing, go buy it. I don’t care if you’ve got to
give up eating for a week, miss a rent payment or fail to pay your
tuition because you spent the money on this CD. Trust me, it’ll be
money well spent.
Hendrix wasn’t known primarily as a bluesman – his thing was
always psychedelic rock. The sounds he could get out of that guitar
were amazing. He produced things no one could make before he burst
flamboyantly onto the scene. There have been a lot of imitators
since, but no one’s been able to match him.
Simply put, the man was the greatest guitar player ever. Sure,
lots of people will argue, but there’s really no one even in his
league. Hendrix was an amazing innovator, bringing sound effects
and feedback into rock music in a way they’d never been used
previously. It wasn’t just that, though – he could genuinely play
in the purest sense.
Although never classically trained, he could play "normally"
just as well as anyone who ever strapped on a six-string. Listen to
his covers of other artists, like Bob Dylan’s "All Along The
Watchtower," and you can hear him playing straightforward rock just
as any modern group would.
Hendrix broke into the music world playing as a sideman in
groups for Little Richard and the Isley Brothers, so he had to be
able to play the standards before he could venture off and do his
own thing. Even if you don’t like his music, you have to
acknowledge him as a virtuoso.
But enough on Hendrix himself: what I want to talk about is this
particular album. "Blues" is not famous when compared with some of
his other efforts, but it’s certainly on par with them. Released in
1994, it compiles 11 of Hendrix’s blues numbers. A few songs can be
found on other albums but most are new releases. But most of the
time, it’s not pleasant music to listen to. It’s not supposed to
be. Instead, it’s an intensely fascinating 72 minutes of
playing.
Rattling, uneven, discordant at times, "Blues" would have never
sent any singles to the top of the charts. This isn’t formulaic,
energetic pop: they’re masterfully crafted emotions set to a
musical background. Whether it’s with his wailing guitar or in his
raspy vocals, Jimi will make you feel his pain before the album
crescendos, then crashes to a halt with the rambling jam of "Hear
My Train A Comin’". The album’s power does not stem from its lyric
content or even its instrumental offerings, but from the emotion
that it can evoke from a careful listener.
Blues music is cool because if you’re feeling depressed, it
reminds you that it could be worse. Sure, you just flunked that
chem midterm, your roommate dropped his 40 on your stereo and you
just can’t seem to find any good orange chicken anywhere in town,
but it’s not the end of the world. You aren’t working in the
fields, you’re eating something at least and your baby didn’t leave
you for your best friend.
Supposing that maybe one of those is true, then hey, you know
that someone else is in the same boat. Whenever life is kicking me
around, I grab for my blues discs to help me forget what’s bugging
me. Think of it as a cheap alternative to getting drunk. You’re
also far less likely to throw up on yourself.
"Blues" is such an amazing album because it can change your
emotional state completely. It’s not so much what Hendrix is
saying, it’s the way he phrases it. When you compare the lyrics
with classic blues recordings, it doesn’t measure up so well.
Hendrix was never known as an amazing lyricist, but the emotion he
throws into the music is stunning. He cries out with the best of
them, sounding like a man who’s been done wrong.
Compared with a lot of the old masters, Hendrix actually had a
pretty cushy life, so it’s not completely authentic, but who cares?
The man could fake the hard life for the sake of art, I guess.
Singing is a small part of the appeal of "Blues." It’s that
famous Fender Stratocaster guitar that brings it home. Hendrix was
able to evoke emotion with his axe even more easily than he could
with his voice, and he does it with a vengeance here.
Whether it’s picking out sparse melodies like "Here My Train A
Comin’" in its acoustic form or "Bleeding Heart" or grinding out
churning aural assaults on "Electric Church Red House" and "Mannish
Boy," Hendrix can always make you feel something. Maybe you don’t
share in the emotion, but you can definitely tell what he’s talking
about.
The album’s strongest cut is an instrumental, the Albert King
standard "Born Under A Bad Sign". It begins simply, with a slow,
repetitive bass line and subdued drums before Hendrix cuts in with
a slow, tortured solo. The sound of the guitar’s scream mimics a
beaten animal, crying out in pain. We all feel like that at times,
I think.
It keeps on this way for almost eight minutes, plumbing the
depths of depression. Hendrix is smart, too. He doesn’t use the
laid back rhythm section as a means to showboat and go overboard
with guitar theatrics. Instead of snatching the spotlight, every
now and then, he’ll drop back and let the bass do all the work, or
have the drums carry the song. This subtle approach to jamming
makes the song much more interesting and substantial, since it’s
not buried behind an eight minute solo.
I could go on, but you’re probably already skimming through
this, waiting to get to the crossword puzzle. That’s OK, I
understand. Just remember, next time you’re feeling like you’ve
been run over by a Mack truck being driven by your ex with your
life science professor riding shotgun, "Blues" can be the way out.
It probably won’t be on sale, but buy it anyway. It’s an
investment.
Hopkins has never worked in the fields or had a 40 dropped on
his stereo.
Yell at him at afropic@hotmail.com
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