1970

                So we’ve left the ‘60s behind, and here at the dawn of the ‘70s, I’m tempted to say that, if you want to consider it a genre, here is where “classic rock” begins.  Obviously we had some precursors, and some bands that get played on classic rock radio before now (although I used to hear Cream all the time on classic rock, and I never do anymore).  By 1970, distinctive styles of hard rock and roots rock are emerging that, while obviously indebted to what came before, are distinct from their psychedelic-rock or folk-rock forebearers, and moreover have a sensibility that will dominate the next decade (as remembered by radio), and continue to be a wellspring for retro-minded acts to the present day. 

                The hard rock story is a little more complicated than the roots-rock story, so I’ll start there.  Basically, although there’s still a lot in common sonically, hard rock is starting to splinter into prog, metal, and what, for lack of a better term, I’ll just call 70s-style hard rock.   Prog-wise, this is a year where bands are very much still trying to find their footing.  Yes and Pink Floyd mess around with more orchestrated sounds, Yes adding a string section and Floyd a horn section.  Of the two, Yes does much better, and Time And A Word is an album I may have unfairly dismissed before now: the orchestrated pieces sound a little stilted, and drove original guitarist Peter Banks out of the band, but on “Astral Traveler” and “Time & A Word” the classic Yes sound is just about there, and I do very much love the classic Yes sound: virtuosic, but with a focus on tight composition rather than flashy showboating or directionless jamming, and just clever, joyous music.  Floyd, however, still is a little way from reaching their breakthrough.  They’ve still got some hazy psychedelic pop songs, sandwiched between a pair of long, multi-movement songs, the first of which I like a great deal, but they’ll do this kind of thing much better later on.  Still, if Atom Heart Mother is not quite there, King Crimson’s In The Wake Of Poseidon is a flat-out disappointment.  Last year, they were at the cutting edge of prog, and put one of the genre’s great albums, but this year they’re content to put out an inferior clone, right down to the swirly hazy majestic title track and the directionless interminable ballad.  If last year, they were at the cutting edge of prog-rock, this year a band of dirty German hippies have stolen that title.  It’s probably not the first Krautrock album, but Amon Düül II’s Yeti is the first one in my collection.  And it’s really good, in a jammy grungy kind of way.  I suspect strongly that, if it came out in 2012, it’d be dubbed prog-metal, but in 1970 it sounds like an evolution of the harder edge of psychedelic rock. 

                Which actually segues fairly neatly into Jethro Tull.  Tull themselves don’t sound too metal this year.  In fact, if anything, they sound most influenced by John Lennon’s rock numbers on The White Album, giving the lie to my argument that the Beatles sounded out of time by 1968.  One of their former guitarists, though, flat out invents a genre this year.  Black Sabbath this year actually kind of parallel Led Zeppelin last year, with the jammy debut that sounds heavily indebted to Cream followed by the album with the classic riff-driven hits you still hear on the radio.  I think it’s’ fair to say that Sabbath’s debut is the first metal album, although they certainly didn’t invent it out of whole cloth.  Most obvious is how the debut sounds like a slowed-down Cream, or perhaps like something between Zeppelin and the Stooges.  There’s also elements of progginess in there, and residual psychedelia, especially on slower numbers like “Planet Caravan” on Paranoid.  Something I definitely didn’t notice before now, but which in retrospect makes perfect sense, by the way, is how much “The Wizard” sounds like Jethro Tull’s “Song for Jeffery.”  It’s not a rewrite or a carbon copy, but the two songs share some DNA. 

                Deep Purple are probably the band to give Sabbath a run at the title for first metal album, as they also go metal in a decidedly more uptempo virtuosic kind of way.  It’s definitely obvious listening through this way how metal, while influenced by the blues-rock of Cream and the like, more directly traces its origins to early prog-rock.  After all, Purple were one of the first prog bands, and Tony Iommi (briefly) was the lead guitarist for another of them.

                The third band mentioned as a founder of heavy metal is, of course, Led Zeppelin, but it’s always been a bit reductive to call them a metal band, especially early on.  Their first couple of records were very much blues-rock, but by 1970 they’re moving past that.  In fact, even though the hits off of II still get airplay, I think III might be the crucial record in Zeppelin’s evolution.  The first two were good, but not remarkably different from what Cream or Jeff Beck was doing.  By III, however, they’re really moving into their own distinct space.  Side one has them moving out of the standard blues-rock sound into something more distinctly their own, and side two (to quote Zoolander) gave people a chance to see a side of their versatility.  And what it really shows is that Jimmy Page was listening to what was happening contemporarily in the English folk-rock scene.  This element was there from the beginning: even in the Yardbirds, Page covered Pentangle, but on side two of III they sound more like peers of Fairport Convention than they do of Cream.  That omnivorous element is what, to my mind, really set Zeppelin apart from their peers.  In no other way would I call them Beatle-esque, but they did a similar trick of incorporating what was happening around them while also putting their unique stamp on it.

                All of this is well and good, but does mean that, in 1970, there’s a decided shortage of pop-rock of the Cream-Stones-Who variety, of songs that rock creatively, but fit within the single format.  Artists like Van Morrison are putting out great pop stuff, but however you want to classify the soul-jazz-folk mélange of Moondance, it’s not rock.   All this prog, metal, and increasingly jam-based roots-rock (on which more below) has good creative stuff going on, but brevity is a virtue of none of these genres, at least circa 1970.  For prog, especially, this seems like a wasted opportunity.  You do have bands like Spirit continuing to try, Yarbirds/Beatles style, to make experimental psych-rock singles, although after their pretty awesome Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus, they’ll turn into a more conventional long-form prog band.  It does make sense, though, why you start to see the first inklings of glam rock appear in 1970, to fill that pop-rock void.  Bowie puts out his first worthwhile album this year, although it sounds more like wordy prog-rock than the glam he’ll start doing in earnest next year.  It’s also an interesting counterfactual to think of Bowie pursuing a prog path rather than a glam one: either seem like they could get to the same end point of Low and Heroes by the end of the decade.  Still, between Bowie and Roxy Music, I suspect glam and prog, like prog and metal, may have had more common origins than I’d thought.  Still, by 1970, you’re also getting other warning signs of glam.  Mott the Hoople have a few records out, although they’re still sounding like garage-rock also-rans at this point.  Also, Marc Bolan has finally begin the shift from the dippy post-Barrett hippie folk of Tyrannosaurus Rex to the more rocking T. Rex sound, especially with the “Ride A White Swan” single, but overall sounds halfway between the two worlds.

                Of course, one of the reasons that pop-rock feels empty is that two of the biggest groups in the genre basically take the year off.  For the Who, it’s because they’re trying to follow Tommy with Pete Townshend’s SMiLE equivalent, Lifehouse, and for the Rolling Stones, it’s because they’re breaking in their new guitarist.  Still, I’ve been spoiled to this point by the profligacy of ‘60s artists.  It’ll be different going year-by-year once artists routinely take 2-3 years between albums.  The Stones and Who, by contrast, even release live albums to fill the gap this year.  Of the two, the Who’s Live At Leeds trumps the Stones’ Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out, if only because the live Who show off a different, more intense and less precise side of the band, while the live Stones sound about like you’d expect them to: a little looser, but mostly just competent performances of great songs. 

                The Kinks do, however, give us a new studio album this year.  Lola is a slight step down from Arthur, although what’s more interesting is how the Kinks are sounding more of-their-time than last year.  On Lola, the Kinks incorporate a more roots sound, especially on “Apeman” and “Gotta Be Free.”  They’ll go much more in this direction next year, but the shift is already beginning here.  And they’re hardly alone in going roots.  The sound of UK-style blues-rock bands incorporating a more roots sound is the heart of why I’ve dubbed 1970 the birth-point of classic rock.  In fact, I might even go so far as to point to Mountain’s ‘debut’ (quoted only b/c of the whole Leslie West’s Mountain stuff from last year), and “Mississippi Queen” specifically as the real beginning of 70’s style classic rock, mixing as it does the electric blues style of Cream and the like with a more swinging and earthy arrangement.   The sound was almost there last year, but the songs weren’t, and it all comes together this year.

                Clapton also goes roots this year, adopting a sound much closer to orthodox blues than he’s done since before Cream started.  Of course, a lot of the credit goes to Duane Allman, who has a fantastic year in 1970, between Layla and the Allman Brothers’ Idlewild South.  Layla definitely sounds closer to the Allman Brothers than anything Cream had done prior, with its overall mellower and cleaner sound.  It also would be better as a single than a double LP, but that’s true of almost all of them.  Idlewild South, meanwhile, is an album that really surprised me on re-listening, with how great it is.  The Allmans had their sound down on the debut, but have really stepped up the songcraft on this one. 

                Clapton, interestingly, is far from alone among psychedelic acts turning towards a more roots sound.  The Doors and the Grateful Dead both turn towards a more blues/folk sound this year.  The Doors’ attempt is ok, but they’ll do better at it next year, when they find a way to mix the menace of the first two albums with the more blues-based construction of Morrison Hotel.  The Dead, meanwhile, put out the two finest studio albums of their career, and two of the better albums of the whole West Coast country-rock scene.  Certainly much better than any of the Byrds’ post-Sweetheart albums, which mine a very similar sound.  For my money, though, Allmans and Dead notwithstanding, the best act in the jammy-roots vein in 1970 is Creedence Clearwater Revival.  Not having any live CCR to compare, I can’t say how they stack up live, but Cosmo’s Factory does a masterful job of being loose, catchy, and inventive all at the same time.  Of course, I’m listening to it as I write this, so that may color my opinion. 

                Of course, the Dead’s album material in 1970 is more focused on songs than jams, and here it’s in good company with the likes of the CSNY mob, who have a very good year this year overall.  Both Stills and Young put out their finest solo albums, plus the group as a whole put out their best album.  At this point, they definitely have staked their claim to being America’s premier vocal group, which makes it interesting to compare them to the previous holders of the title, the Beach Boys.  The Beach Boys put out probably their best album since the whole SMiLE affair, but it’s a decidedly mixed bag of songs recalling their classic sound, songs that sound like they’re now chasing CSN, SMiLE remnants, and whatever else they can come up with.  Déjà Vu is very much the work of 4 distinct songwriters, but still has a unity of purpose that seems to elude the post-Pet Sounds Beach Boys.  Without Brian’s leadership, they sound like a band that can’t figure out which way to go, so go in all directions at once.  Which is a shame, as for at least a few post-meltdown years, they had enough talent to still do interesting things, but just couldn’t figure out what direction to go.  It all makes these albums extremely fascinating by suggesting all the things they could have done, while at the same time being such messes that it’s clear why their popularity & critical cred declined.

                Speaking of mid-60s greats making distinctly lesser works, Bob Dylan has abandoned his straight-country approach as quickly as he’s adopted it, and to all appearances gone mad himself.  I’m not sure Dylan’s ever released as much new material in a single year as he has in 1970, with a double-album and a single album, but while the ’65-66 stuff sounded like a flood of creativity being unleashed, the 1970 stuff is just…odd.  Neither Self-Portrait or New Morning will ever be mistaken for Dylan’s best work, but both are possibly more sonically daring than he’d ever been before (when he basically copped his sound from what was happening in the world of early psych-rock) or since.  They’re both operating within the country/folk/roots world, but what can you say about an album that features nasally-rocker Bob singing a duet with clean-voiced-country Bob, on Paul Simon’s “The Boxer,” no less?  Or an album that features Dylan scat singing?  I will say that Self-Portrait sounds more like an inside joke between Bob and himself, while New Morning sounds, at times, like a genuine attempt to make a follow-up record to John Wesley Harding, but neither sounds particularly inspired.  That Dylan will go almost entirely silent in terms of recorded output in 1971 makes the whole mess all the more perplexing.  Perhaps he was trying to substitute quantity for quality (or perspiration for inspiration), and after this year decided to step back?

                The biggest change for one of the major ‘60s acts this year, however, is hands-down the end of the Beatles.  For what it’s worth, Let It Be sounds more a part of the broader musical conversation than the Beatles have sounded since Magical Mystery Tour (if we don’t count Yellow Submarine, at least).  More than anything, it sounds like the Beatles’ own attempt at a roots-rock record, and for my money it works well.  I own this album in three versions, the Phil Spector-produced Let It Be, the Glyn Johns-produced (& unreleased) Get Back, and Paul McCartney’s 2003 remix, Let It Be…Naked, and I rank them Spector>Johns>>McCartney.  I see why people prefer the simpler Johns versions, but I grew up with the Spector version, and it’s the way I expect the album to sound.  McCartney’s revisionist version, though, just sounds jarringly modern.  In a metaphor sure to demonstrate my geek cred, it’s like George Lucas’s CGI enhancements to the original Star Wars: it’s too clean, and thus just seems out of place and wrong.

                I have speculated that, since the Beatles all give us solo records in 1970 that a fun game would be to try to assemble what a Beatles record would have sounded like out of these tracks.  McCartney’s stuff probably sounds the most Beatles-y, esp. “Maybe I’m Amazed,” a kissing cousin of “Let It Be.”  Harrison puts out an album so sprawling and so good it makes McCartney and Lennon look petty and insecure for not letting Harrison put more of his songs on Beatles records, causing him to accumulate such a backlog of material.  So much of the stuff on All Things Must Pass is at least as good as anything John or Paul’s been doing since Pepper.  Lennon, though, wins the prize for sounding the least Beatle-esque.  There are times when Plastic Ono Band sounds more like the Stooges than anything the Beatles have done (esp. “I Found Out” and “Well, Well, Well”), and times when it sounds like a template for either Elliot Smith or Lou Reed.  And it all sounds far too intensely personal to fit on a Beatles album.  I’ve always said that each of the Beatles put out exactly one truly great solo album, and for John and George, those both came out in 1970.  You’ll just have to keep reading to find out which I think Paul & RIngo’s were.

                1970 was a down year for a lot of the giants of ‘60s rock.  The Who and the Stones sat the year out, the Beach Boys and Dylan grasped for direction, and the Beatles broke up.  It is, however, also the year that some of the major figures of ‘70s music really start to come into their own (as if on cue, no less).  I’ve mentioned Zeppelin above, and Neil Young was already exploring his classic sound last year, but the biggest surprise is Bob Marley’s creative breakthrough.  Marley and the Wailers had been kicking around the ska scene since at least 1963, but frankly always sounded like second-stringers, sounding more like a 50s doo-wop group than anything else.  For whatever reason, 1970 is the year they make their great leap forward.  They kinda do it by jacking Toots & the Maytals’ sound, too.  Toots had been working a folk-ska sound since his debut, but Marley (and Tosh) adopt it themselves, and really make it their own.  As they say, good artists borrow, and great artists steal, so this is by no means a slam on Marley or Tosh, especially when the results are as great as theirs.  Toots is a better singer than either of them, but didn’t have the songwriting of the Wailers.  Of course, it’ll still be a few years before they make it big outside of Jamaica.  Also, for what it’s worth, reggae sounds much closer to North American roots-rock than ska/rocksteady, which fit more comfortably alongside North American soul. 

                While the rock world has largely abandoned psychedelia, 1970 is when Miles Davis embraces it wholeheartedly.  I know a lot of jazz purists really don’t care for Bitches Brew, but I think it’s fantastic, and one of the last times when jazz sounded like it was in a dialogue with the world outside of itself, barring the ironic covers of pop songs that continue to litter the cut-out bins of record stores and college radio stations.  Bitches Brew, and Miles’ later funk explorations, sound like someone seriously engaging with his contemporaries.  Bitches Brew especially sounds at least as good as any of the psychedelic sounds coming out of rock music.  Unsurprisingly, to my mind, as the band Miles assembled outclassed just about any rock band in talent and training, and consequently could be more daring without falling apart than just about any of them.  Rock bands tended to drown in formlessness when they went deep without a prog-style structure, but crackerjack jazz players could stay under much longer while staying together.

                Finally, in a year that had me speculating a lot on paths not taken, the biggest question of them all is what would have happened had Jimi Hendrix lived.  Based on what’s left of his uncompleted fourth album, Hendrix sounded like he was carrying forward an evolution of the psychedelic sound much different from the jazzy (Beck), bluesy (Clapton), or folk/metally (Page) paths his UK peers took.  Maybe Santana sounded closest, with a mix of spacey guitar and a more grounded rhythm section; or perhaps Let It Bleed-era Stones, mixing elements of contemporary R&B and rock.  Regardless, Hendrix himself sounded unique on First Rays, as much as he did on Are You Experienced?, and hearing his work in context makes me realize even more how distinct he was from his peers.

Song of the Year:  John Lennon – “God.”  I, as a rule, hate most atheist songs, since they combine the preachy proselytizing of Christian rock with a douche-y sense of intellectual superiority.  As a consequence, there are few songs I hate more than, for instance, XTC’s “Dear God.”  Lennon’s “God” is different, though, since it’s really about the pain of God’s absence.  Lennon is honest when he says he doesn’t believe in God, and sincere when he says he thinks believing in himself (and Yoko) is enough, but as he runs through the litany of things he used to believe in, it’s clear that on some level he wishes he still could believe in something bigger than himself.  A tremendously affecting song, and certainly something that could never appear on a Beatles record.

Album of the Year:  A breakout year for Neil Young (almost certainly my favorite artist of all time), so it’s either After The Gold Rush, his solo masterpiece and an album I’ve worn out several copies of listening to, or Déjà Vu, where he lifts Crosby, Stills, & Nash to a next level, and they start to sound like the American equivalent of the Beatles (in terms of multiple distinct complementary voices all writing great songs) that Buffalo Springfield looked like it could have been.  Of course, Neil would continue to make fantastic solo records, while this is CSNY’s undisputed high point.  So call it a draw.

Artist Most Benefiting from Reevaluation:  Jimi Hendrix.  Obviously I always knew he was great, but listening to how he was pursuing his own unique musical vision makes me really wonder how the whole rest of music might have unfolded had he stayed among the living.

Artist Most Diminished in Reevaluation:  King Crimson.  I loved In the Court of the Crimson King, and listening to it again, I really hoped I’d just overlooked In the Wake of Poseidon, but no.  It’s just a limp, uninspired record from a band that was at the very leading edge of prog just a year earlier.

Album List

Amon Düül II - Yeti

Black Sabbath - Black Sabbath

Black Sabbath - Paranoid

Black Sabbath - Past Lives

Bloodrock – 2

Bob Dylan – New Morning

Bob Dylan - Self Portrait

Bob Dylan - Vol. 2 : Rare And Unreleased, 1963-1974

Bob Marley & The Wailers - Soul Rebels

Bob Marley & The Wailers - Trenchtown Rock: The Anthology 1969-78

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - Trout Mask Replica

Charles Wright & The Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band - Express Yourself: The Best Of Charles Wright

Country Joe & the Fish - The Collected Country Joe & the Fish

Creedence Clearwater Revival - Chronicle, Vol. 1

Creedence Clearwater Revival – Cosmo’s Factory

Crosby, Stills & Nash - Wedding Songs

Crosby, Stills & Nash (& Young) - Déjà Vu

Crosby, Stills & Nash (& Young) - Ohio/Find The Cost Of Freedom Single

David Bowie – The Man Who Sold The World

Deep Purple - The Very Best Of Deep Purple

Dennis Alcapone - Guns Don't Argue

Derek & The Dominos – Layla And Other Assorted Love Songs

Elton John - Greatest Hits 1970-2002

Elvis Presley - Elvis 30 #1 Hits

Elvis Presley - From Elvis in Memphis

Elvis Presley - The Memphis Record

Emitt Rhodes - Emitt Rhodes

Fairport Convention - Full House

George Harrison - All Things Must Pass

George Harrison - Apple Jam

Isaac Hayes - Greatest Hits Singles

J.J. Cale - Very Best Of

James Brown - 20 All Time Greatest Hits!

James Brown - Soul on Top

Jethro Tull – Benefit

Jethro Tull - Original Masters

Joe Cocker – Mad Dogs & Englishmen

John Cale – Vintage Violence

John Lennon - Plastic Ono Band

Johnny Cash – Hello, I’m Johnny Cash

Joni Mitchell – Ladies Of The Canyon

King Crimson - In The Wake Of Poseidon [Limited Edition]

Led Zeppelin - Coda

Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin III

Merle Haggard - HAG: The Best Of Merle Haggard

Michael Jackson - The Essential Michael Jackson

Miles Davis - Bitches Brew

Miles Davis - Circle In The Round

Miles Davis - Live - Evil

Mott The Hoople - An Introduction To Mott The Hoople

Mountain – Climbing!

Neil Young - Decade

Neil Young - Live At The Fillmore East

Neil Young & Crazy Horse – After The Gold Rush

Nick Drake - Bryter Layter

Nick Drake - Misc.

Nick Drake - Way To Blue (An Introduction To Nick Drake)

Os Mutantes - Everything Is Possible!: The Best Of Os Mutantes

Ozzy Osbourne - The Ozzman Cometh

Paul McCartney - Wingspan: History

Pink Floyd - Atom Heart Mother

Ringo Starr - Photograph: The Very Best Of Ringo Starr

Rod Stewart - Gold

Santana – Abraxas

Sly & The Family Stone - The Essential Sly & The Family Stone [Disc 1]

Soft Machine – Third

Stephen Stills – Stephen Stills

Stevie Wonder - At The Close Of A Century

Syd Barrett - Opel

T. Rex - 20th Century Boy: The Ultimate Collection

T. Rex – T. Rex

The Allman Brothers – Idlewild South

The Beach Boys - Good Vibrations: Thirty Years Of The Beach Boys [Disc 3]

The Beach Boys – Sunflower

The Beatles - Let It Be

The Beatles - Let It Be... Naked

The Beatles - Mono Masters

The Beatles - Past Masters, Vol. 2

The Byrds - III: Full Throttle

The Byrds - VI: Final Approach

The Doors - Morrison Hotel

The Ethiopians - Everything Crash: The Best of The Ethiopians

The Faces - The Best Of Faces: Good Boys When They're Asleep

The Flying Burrito Brothers - Burrito Deluxe

The Grateful Dead - American Beauty

The Grateful Dead - Wedding Songs

The Grateful Dead - Workingman's Dead

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - First Rays Of The New Rising Sun

The Kinks – Lola Versus Powerman And The Moneygoround, Part One

The Kinks - The Kink Kronikles

The Rolling Stones – Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out

The Rolling Stones - Singles Collection: The London Years

The Staple Singers - The Very Best Of The Staple Singers

The Stooges - Fun House

The Temptations - Psychedelic Soul

The Velvet Underground - Loaded

The Who - Live At Leeds

The Who - Live At The Isle Of Wight Festival 1970

The Who - The Ultimate Collection

Traffic – John Barleycorn Must Die

V/A - Hitsville U.S.A.

V/A - Liz's Favorites

V/A - Reservoir Dogs

V/A - Samba Soul 70!

Van Morrison - His Band And The Street Choir

Van Morrison - Moondance

Yes – Time And A Word