I mentioned two great debut albums yesterday - Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left (1969) and The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Are You Experienced (1967) - both of which could be legitimately considered as the finest recordings of their respective careers. It got me thinking about a couple of things: 1. Why does it often seem to be the case that the earliest recordings of an artist are generally those that are the most popular with listeners? 2. Which other debut albums deserve to be considered, along with those mentioned above, in the category of the best ever? One album that I posted on not too long ago that deserves inclusion is The Velvet Underground and Nico (1967), which shares a key characteristic with the other two: its variety. The way I see it is fairly simple. A first album is like an undergraduate degree - or perhaps the first year or two of serious study in a discipline. Artists want to take a survey of the terrain, to experiment with as many aspects as they can, and to show what they can do. Also, they are still at the point in their career where the perceived possibilities far exceed the limitations. As time goes on, artists will often get more specific in their work, and investigate certain aspects of music in a more focused and/or thorough way. For example, compare White Light/White Heat (1968) with its supercharged electric sound, and The Velvet Underground (1969), with its acoustic settings, to the first album with its examples of both. I hope you'll agree that this is an interesting area to consider, and I'm going to continue to do so over the next few posts. Tomorrow: Are You Experienced.

There would be an argument for Nick Drake's first album being his best. Five Leaves Left (1969) is an amazingly assured debut album - among the very greatest ever (up there with Hendrix' Are You Experienced, to name another). It contains many splendid songs in many styles and rhythms, with great contributions from guest instrumentalists and arrangers. I wrote about my favourite track, "River Man", in my July 25 post concerning songs in the too infrequently used 5/4. The song's harmonic content is another of its distinctive features as it contains a highly original progression from C minor through Bb and Ab to a resolution on a C major. Its lyric is haunting and suggestive - the title character could be interpreted symbolically in a number of ways, for example. The string arrangement, by the film composer Harry Robinson, is perfect in its emotional content and imagery. (I'm not sure of this, but I think it may have had some influence on the work that Jonny Greenwood has done with Radiohead.) "Way to Blue" is set for voice and string quartet only, with another compelling arrangement done by Robert Kirby. And on it goes, each track showcases Drake's awesome talents as guitarist, composer and vocalist, with inspired support from different contributors - including Paul Harris on piano, Richard Thompson on electric guitar, Rocky Dzidzornu on congas, and Clare Lowther on the title instrument in "'Cello Song". I think I mentioned the other day that none of Drake's albums sold very well upon initial release - none sold more than 5,000 copies. It's difficult to believe when you hear them, and it's too bad as well, because it's hard to avoid the feeling that some success might have helped him. But it's too late for that. At least we can appreciate his work now, and try to learn something from it: for good music to flourish, good listeners are required.

In many ways, the guitar is a very primitive instrument. Reduced to its essence, its a piece of wood with strings on it. Its popularity (as I've noted before) has a lot to do with its portability (from place to place) and adaptability (from style to style). Another big factor is the fact that there is no one right way to play it. It can be played with a pick or with several, with some of the fingers or with all of them, or even with the thumb alone - which is how Wes Montgomery played and he is considered (correctly) to be among the very greatest of jazz guitarists, so we know that can work. In terms of the style that I'll call acoustic finger-style folk, Nick Drake is in similar company. His third album, Pink Moon (1972) is probably the one that shows his prowess at its maximum. The album is a solo effort in its truest sense: there are no other musicians. (It's remarkable how different his three albums are in terms of conception, in fact. For example, the album that I posted on yesterday, Bryter Layter, displays Drake's abilities in playing with a band.) The listener doesn't feel that there is anything missing either, thanks to the dazzling songwriting, Drake's one-of-a-kind vocal style and the aforementioned guitar mastery. I was surprised to find out that it's only a little over twenty-eight minutes long - it doesn't feel that way, at all. (One critic used to end reviews with "consumer alerts" for albums that he felt weren't long enough. It always struck me as silly. Do we judge a poem based on its length? A Love Supreme is just over thirty-three minutes, by the way - should consumers be dissuaded from that one?) In listening to the record today, I remembered how Segovia once compared the guitar to a "little orchestra". The greatest guitarists, people like Nick Drake, are all the proof needed for that analogy. (Suggested listening: "Things Behind the Sun" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV4D_q9QiuQ&feature=related )

Bryter Layter (1970) is most likely the least popular of Nick Drake's three albums. It probably has to do with the instrumentation - electric guitar, drums, piano, strings, saxophone and brass - which gives the record a more mainstream rock sound than the other two, that more prominently feature Drake's incomparable acoustic guitar playing. It's too bad, because it's a wonderful record. Drake's singing is absolutely incredible throughout, for one thing. It's interesting to listen to great instrumentalists who also have put comparable effort into their singing - Chet Baker, the jazz trumpeter and vocalist is another. It's hard to describe, but it seems like there's a specific quality to the phrasing and tone that perhaps can only be reached by this approach. The arrangements, some with strings and others with brass, are very much of their time, but for me that increases their poignancy, and at their center is the powerful pulse of Drake's guitar. The album is best listened to as a whole, because there are lovely instrumental pieces that frame and provide an interlude from the main action. And what action it is - the album contains some of Drake's greatest songs, including "At the Chime of a City Clock", "Poor Boy", and "Northern Sky". Yesterday, I mentioned that I've been listening to this record daily for the past three weeks, well I can't see any end in sight. I'm off to listen to it now.

I suppose it's for two reasons that I often think of Nick Drake as music's equivalent to John Keats: 1. They both produced a very high percentage of masterpieces in a short career. 2. They both died in their mid-twenties. Drake recorded three albums during his lifetime - Five Leaves Left (1969), Bryter Layter (1970), and Pink Moon (1972). Each one is brilliant and completely distinctive from the others, but not one of them sold more than five thousand copies upon its initial release. With time, and numerous cover versions (the great jazz pianist Brad Mehldau has covered at least three of his songs) - it's become clear that he was a musician of the very highest rank. (Aside to the critics who gave bad reviews to these records: You will be forgiven, and feel much better, if and when you stop writing about music.) I'm going to write at least one post on each of them, and I'm going to start tomorrow with Bryter Layter, which I've been listening to daily for about the past three weeks. Here's a sample: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4Va1xJUjC0

Yesterday, I mentioned Radiohead's "15 Step", and it got me thinking about 5/4 time and why it is so rare. Nearly all popular music is in 4/4 for a very simple reason: it's symmetrical and it makes it easier for everyone who might participate - musicians, improvisers, dancers, even listeners. I had a teacher once who said that the history of music can be largely understood by the fact that we have two hands (ergo the piano, and its massive influence on virtually every aspect of music) and two feet (thus the prevalence of rhythms in 2 or its multiples). Of course, there are some time signatures that have flourished in conjunction with certain types of dance (3/4 and the waltz is the prime example), but for the most part 2 and 4 have taken up nearly all the room. Let's hope that changes.
One of the ways that young writers and musicians can avoid cliche (or sounding like those that have come before) is to explore new time signatures and methods of overlapping or combining rhythms. One idea is to write with music paper, but without bar lines. Because as soon as a bar or measure line is written, a pattern has been implied. And of course it's best if the pattern is discovered rather than imposed.
Here are three great songs, in three completely different styles, in 5/4: "Take Five" by Paul Desmond on The Dave Brubeck Quartet's Time Out (1959), Nick Drake's "River Man" from Five Leaves Left (1969), and Radiohead's "15 Step" from In Rainbows (2007). Perhaps the title of "15 Step" may refer to a dance or rhythmic concept - and the need to count and think for those who participate, until it becomes second nature. Ballet and other forms of dance based on classical music and its offshoots have been using unusual time signatures for many years - there's no reason that other styles can't as well. Let's not be lazy here, people.