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

Another great song about New York is Garland Jeffreys' "New York Skyline", from his brilliant 1977 album, Ghostwriter. Jeffreys was a college friend of the pre-Velvets Lou Reed at Syracuse, and they've remained friends - Reed still makes guest appearances at his shows - as recently as last Tuesday, in fact. Man, would I love to see that. The one time that I was lucky enough to see Jeffreys perform live was at the Montreal Jazz Festival in the summer of 2007, where an acoustic performance of this song was the highlight of an electrifying set. During the song's tag, Jeffreys sang of some of the city's famed skyscrapers: the Chrysler, the Empire State, the Pan Am - and when he sang, "We've got those two big towers" as if they were still standing, the crowd went wild. There was a collective realization that he was right - in a very important way, we still do. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPZ-Z7RNulQ&feature=related

Of all the great songs written about New York, and there have been many, I think my favourite is Cole Porter's "I Happen to Like New York", which was written for a 1930 musical called The New Yorkers (its most famous song was "Love for Sale", incidentally). From the title to the tone of the lyrics, it perfectly captures the nonchalance (on the surface) and pride (to the core) that Gotham natives share. The music, in majestic 3/4 time, builds from a pensive, wistful opening to a climax of elation, similar to the feelings that can arise on a Sunday afternoon stroll in the city. Here is the link to Judy Garland's version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6c9_3yjV7k

David Ackles, the singer-songwriter from Rock Island, Illinois, made four albums in his short but artistically successful career. Like the Velvet Underground, albeit in a different genre, he had more influence on other artists than sales. Two of the singer-songwriters that are indebted to him, Elton John and Elvis Costello, got a chance to say thanks and to sing one of his songs on Costello's Spectacle in 2008. That song, "Down River" is a very great one that features a lyric with a one-sided and rueful conversation between the narrator and a character named Rosie, whose contributions to the dialogue have to be inferred. The chorus reveals that the title is a beautiful metaphor for things gone by. The song's introduction is also masterful, as a seemingly slightly out-of-tune piano plays a figure based on the overtone series (the natural extra pitches that are heard above a note), then, when Ackles' educated vocal begins, the piano suddenly sounds strong and resonant (as does the voice). It is very interesting to compare the song with Costello's "Alison" and John's "Your Song" (co-written with the lyricist Bernie Taupin, who produced Ackles' third album American Gothic from 1972), because so many of the elements that they contain are also found in the Ackles masterpiece. They (Costello and John) were right; Ackles was indeed a major influence on them. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iBb5EXi8h0&feature=related

One of the things that I respect the most from an artist is improvement, particularly the kind that shows a clear arc of development from the beginning of a career to its conclusion. The Beatles would be one example, and the Replacements another. Of course, many fans have favourite recordings that are chosen on the basis of when they first discovered the group, but I think it would be clear to an impartial listener that the best playing and writing done by the Replacements is found on their final two albums, Don't Tell a Soul (1989) and All Shook Down (1990). Paul Westerberg, one of the greatest songwriters in the history of rock, was at his peak both as composer and vocalist, and the band's playing had fully incorporated the swing feel (in the Chuck Berry sense mostly, but jazz rhythms as well) that they had investigated on earlier tracks such as "Swingin' Party" and "Waitress in the Sky" from 1985's Tim.

Westerberg's lyrics require connective work on the part of the listener, but they're worth the effort. He's one of the few songwriters that has the Lou Reed-like ability to find great pathos in a small detail. "The Last", appropriately the final track on their final album, is for me, their greatest song. And that's saying something, because they've got a lot of them. But this one has all of the elements that made them what they were - the greatest rock and roll band of their time.