Dirty Impound

Dirty Impound is giving away one copy of each of these reissues. To enter drawing, send an email to dennis@dirtyimpound.com telling us in 25 words or less why Bob Seger rocks. Best responses score the goods and will have their response published on DI.

Possessed of one of the manliest voices ever and backed up by one of the toughest, tightest road crews of all-time, Bob Seger has been serious rock ‘n’ roll business for over 40 years. However, it hasn’t always been big stages and fat paychecks for the Michigan native. After experiencing sudden stardom with his 1969 debut, Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man, Seger then spent the next six years honing his amazing (and often under-appreciated) songwriting prowess, barely a blip on the charts but a devastating sure-bet in concert, killing it regionally around Detroit and doing the nationwide legwork in clubs that forges true champions. Seger would soon be ubiquitous on FM radio and huge halls everywhere after 1976’s Night Moves but before that came Live Bullet (reissued September 13 on Capitol) , one of the great double vinyl live sets now offered up with much greater sonic clarity and punch in a new CD edition.

come on, beautiful losers!

The Doobie Brothers have had many eras in their 41 years of rockin’ down the highway. Initially, a gritty, groove-conscious mix of blues, folk and soul, the band grew smoother and more pop & fusion oriented as the 70s progressed, particularly after Michael McDonald joined as vocalist/keyboardist/songwriter in the mid-70s. Live At The Greek Theatre 1982 (released June 28 on Eagle Records) presents a night many Doobies fans wish they’d been in attendance at (and for the record, this writer in all his pre-pubescent glory was there in Berkeley for his first evening at the legendary Greek Theatre) for all their slick, jazzy, mega-hit era glory.

At the time, it seemed we were witnessing the last crackling embers of one of the giants of the past decade, bowing out at their commercial height just as the industry was shifting to video, a realm the real man musicians in this band weren’t exactly suited to. History, of course, shows that The Doobie Brothers didn’t take their final bow that night, and in recent years have seen a real return to form with last year’s World Gone Crazy and a still tight, entertaining live show.

However, the band and fans gathered inside the Greek’s stone shell didn’t know that, and this set is infused with an exuberant party atmosphere. While every version isn’t definitive, all the major milestones are hit, and the crowd energy is enormous. So is the electric charge coming off co-founder Patrick Simmons, who plays and sings his ass off throughout, balanced and sparked by John McFee, the string champ who continues to enliven the band’s music to this day. A brief late in the show guest appearance from co-founder Tom Johnston, who had left the band several years earlier, is a reminder of what the group had once been – and thankfully the first step towards Johnston’s eventual full return to the fold, where he co-leads the Doobie Brothers today with Simmons.

Like the concert itself, Live At The Greek Theatre 1982 is a right good time, powered by a rhythm section that gives old Santana a run for their money and a band obviously enjoying one last crack at their catalog before things changed for all of them. Four bonus cuts are nice perk for fans, including fine takes on late McDonald period gems “Little Darling (I Need You),” “One Step Closer” and “Dependin’ On You.” (Dennis Cook)

When it comes to heavy metal on Long Island, it just doesn’t get any more recognizable than Twisted Sister.

But before they broke big in 1984 with their commercial breakthrough Stay Hungry and their monster MTV hit “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” they served nobly as one of the New York area’s most revered acts on the indie metal circuit for 12 years before Dee Snider’s blond mop of war-painted madness scarred the hearts and minds of the Reagan youth for the rest of their natural lives. Originally released on the old Spitfire label in 1999, Club Daze Vol. 1: The Studio Sessions (released January 25) chronicles these early days of the Twisted ones when they were just another local act vying for stage time at The Palladium and the Calderone Theatre. It is an entertaining and educational collection of the band’s first decade of studio action, starting with demos dating back to their Slade-copping early 70s salad days before Snider joined the fold on through to rough cuts of material that would appear on their debut LP, Under The Blade (reissued May 31), including raw takes on such faves as Shoot ‘Em Down and the epic title track. Club Daze Vol. 1 is a great look into the soul of the Sister before they allowed ego, image mongering and ill advice get the best of them.

Also available as part of Eagle Rock’s ongoing reissue series of the TS catalog are expanded editions of the group’s first two full-length LPs, the aforementioned Blade from 1982 and its 1983 follow-up You Can’t Stop Rock ‘n’ Roll (reissued January 25).
further Twisted insights

Though Rory Gallagher thought fit to shelve the recordings he captured in the Bay Area in December 1977, it’s likely that Notes From San Francisco (released May 17 on Eagle Records) would have been regarded as one of his strongest, liveliest studio efforts. It takes only a couple tracks before one picks up on the musicians catching the mythical “pocket,” swinging spontaneously and collectively, chugging tough behind their mercurial, hard pounding leader’s big bear growl and relentless guitar invention. For blues-based rock, particularly in the waning hours of that decade, this represents as good as it gets, and though 33 years too late, we’re fortunate to finally be able to hear this lot.

While not a far cry from the albums that would have sat on either side of it – 1976’s Calling Card and 1978’s Photo-Finish – Notes From San Francisco hits the mark more often from start-to-finish than anything else in the 70s for Rory besides 1973’s landmark Tatoo. Gallagher is at his barstool philosopher best here, a gruffer cousin to fellow Irishman and bittersweet tragedian Phil Lynott (Thin Lizzy). Much of this rattles and grinds, but “Wheels Within Wheels” is one of his finest slow numbers and even had the potential to puncture American FM-radio in the era alongside the tailored ennui of Fleetwood Mac and Gerry Rafferty. Elsewhere, there’s the Latin horns meet slide licks of “Brute Force & Ignorance,” the gypsy musician’s lament “Overnight Bag,” and electric violin perforated “Mississippi Sheiks,” strings courtesy of Joe O’Donnell (East of Eden, Mushroom) – the late, great, very missed Martin Fiero also contributes sax to two cuts. Yes, there are plenty of electric guitar workouts but unlike a lot of shredders, particularly of his generation, there’s not a lot of fat and more than a dollop of light-fingered delicacy and eloquent, carefully chosen sting, these last two traits displayed beautifully on the “Little Wing”-esque album closer “Fuel To The Fire.”

This posthumous release is bettered still by a second disc containing a live trio show captured at The Old Waldorf in San Francisco in December 1979. Gallagher had dropped his keyboard player after seeing the Sex Pistols burn down Winterland and attacks staples like “Shinkicker” and “Tattoo’d Lady” with feral energy. The rhythm section of Gerry McAvoy (bass) and Ted McKenna stay close to Gallagher’s wild movements from blazing opener “Follow Me” to the closing frenetic, lighthearted cover of Huey P. Smith’s “Sea Cruise.” There’s a lot of reasons many ardent Rory aficionados consider true Gallagher to be live Gallagher, and this set adds more heft to their argument, though I think he’s nearly equally lethal and sometimes more visibly tender in his studio work. Whichever setting you prefer, there’s much to enjoy on Notes From San Francisco, a rare archival gem that holds its own with the official catalog.

Who knows what Jeff Gold was expecting to discover amongst the treasure trove of memorabilia up for grabs by the estate of legendary music critic and Rolling Stone founder Ralph J. Gleason following the passing of his wife in 2009. Some unpublished writing? A couple of rare gems from the scribe’s legendary record collection? Maybe a cool old salt and pepper set? Regardless of what Mr. Gold may or may not have been hunting for whilst rummaging through Gleason’s worldly possessions, he couldn’t have expected to unearth a previously unreleased recording of an early Bob Dylan concert amidst the debris. But, there it was, a gorgeous mixing board feed capture on reel-to-reel inside of a tape box with the words “Dylan Brandeis” written in faded pencil.

find out what’s in the box

Welcome back to John Jordan’s reoccurring column where he’ll dig through his album collection to ruminate on the gold he’s accumulated over the years.

It is a tricky business using words to describe music. Trying to describe our reactions to and feelings about what we hear sometimes seems inexact, clumsy, and indirect, as if we are adding several steps to the process of perception. Music, by contrast, is a very effective and direct medium of transmitting feeling, at least in the hands of skilled artists. Think of the visceral connections between love and George Harrison’s “Something,” elation and the work of Earth, Wind, and Fire, or rage and the work of Minor Threat. Sometimes we are tuned to different wavelengths, but I don’t think anyone visiting the Impound will deny that music has this sort of immediate effect on them.

I had these thoughts as I was trying to get to grips with Hawkwind’s Space Ritual double live album from 1973. Recorded during an ambitious 1972 tour financed by the success of their single “Silver Machine,” Space Ritual should be filed with such seminal live albums as Live at Leeds and Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out, as it is surely the document of a band at the absolute height of their powers. The difference between The Who or The Rolling Stones and Hawkwind is that Hawkwind are madder than twice their weight in hatters (even accounting for Keith Moon). Their off-center and sometimes disturbing vibe resonates in their music. The feeling that everything is about to fall off the rails, that someone’s mind is humming just below the frequency that will cause it to snap, is omnipresent throughout Space Ritual.

read on

Welcome to John Jordan’s new reoccurring column where he’ll dig through his album collection to ruminate on the gold he’s accumulated over the years.
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Does anyone else out there remember when pop vocalists could actually sing? Not have their tracks endlessly cut, processed and extruded by technology – not struggle to over-emote every phrase until all soul has been wrung from the lyric – but could just, you know, sing?

David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash could really sing. They came together from other popular groups of the 1960s (The Byrds, Buffalo Springfield and The Hollies respectively) and discovered that together they could sing even better. On their self-titled debut (before the fire and madness that would come with Neil Young) Crosby, Stills and Nash produced stunning vocal leads, counterpoints, improvisations, and some of the most heartbreakingly beautiful harmonies ever committed to a popular recording. Stills also plays lead guitar, organ and bass while Crosby plays rhythm guitar, alongside session drummer Dallas Taylor, a wonderful instrumental backdrop is provided for the group’s vocal heroics.

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[amtap amazon:asin=B0040MGPGC] By 1975, Iggy Pop was – for lack of a better term – a hot mess. Following the dissolution of Stooges in the wake of the tepid reception their now-landmark 1973 LP Raw Power received upon its initial release, the legendary Detroit punk icon fell into a deep, heroin-induced depression, the severity of which prompted him to check himself into a psychiatric ward to straighten out and clean up. But while The Stooges were no more, Iggy still maintained a functional working relationship with the band’s guitar hero James Williamson, and, with Pop on a weekend pass from the loony bin, the two managed to score some time in Jimmy Webb’s home studio to lay down some demos in hopes of securing a new record deal. Sadly, however, no label was interested. That is, of course, until 1977 after Iggy made one of the greatest comebacks in rock history with his pair of David Bowie-produced solo classics The Idiot and Lust For Life, when Bomp Records gave Williamson an advance to release the demos as the album known as Kill City.

It’s a dark, revealing work that, as heard on songs like Sell Your Love and I Got Nothin’, sonically and lyrically reflects Pop’s sense of hopelessness and desperation at the time. For years, the album wallowed in a series of muddy, poor quality reproductions that mired the fire of Pop and Williamson’s incendiary performances, which saw them temper the feral electricity displayed on Raw Power with accents of piano, acoustic guitar, saxophone and congas. But with this excellent new remix of the LP, culled from the original multi-tracks by Williamson and engineer Ed Cherney, Kill City (reissued October 19 on Alive Records) is at long last finally restored to its intended glory, complete with a clarity and crispness that brings the album up to par with the might of the rest of the Iggy/Stooges canon. The Legacy edition of Raw Power and the recent Rhino Handmade-released Funhouse-era concert set Live at Ungano’s might have gotten more attention in the press, but the long overdue revamp of this unheralded classic is arguably the most important Iggy-related reissue to come out in the last year.