Review of Jimi Hendrix's Electric Ladyland

Released 1968

"Starfish and giant foams, greet us with a smile. Before our heads go under, we take a last look At the killing noise of the out of style... The out of style, out of style"


Like any fan of rock music, I was exposed to the iconography of Jimi Hendrix very early. Every music magazine, every music book referred back to his influence. His inimitable presence was so integral to the spirit of rock music, and specifically the rock music of the period in which I was fascinated, and over and over again my heroes would wax rhapsodically about his unique and profound influence, it was inevitable that at some point I would have had to see what all the fuss was all about. In a short period of time, I watched his performances at the Monterey Jazz Festival, at Woodstock and The Isle of Wight Festival, conscious of his omnipresence and seeming omnipotence over the late sixties music scene; an otherworldly being from another time.

However, Hendrix will remain forever imprinted on me as per the image in the wonderful book, Rock Dreams (reproduced above left).
In this incredible book, his unique talent was explained by the fact that he was, in fact a Martian; literally worlds apart from us mere human mortals.

Like many, my first Hendrix album was a tentative best-of compilation. This ticked all the right boxes, confirmed his pedestal placement and whetted the appetite for more.

I probably choose Electric Ladyland as my first Hendrix purchase proper based on the perverse thrill of the melee of naked women adorning the cover. I recognised a couple of the tracks but in the main this was a new beginning for me.

Any doubts that Hendrix had true prog credentials are put to one side from the weirdness of the opening sound scape. It was all backwards vocals, huge drums and effects that were impossible to identify. It set the scene nicely. Have You Ever Been (To Electric Ladyland) cemented the theme that this was to be as ambitious an album as I had yet encountered.

Although everyone always (obviously) focuses on Hendrix's guitar ability, I remain continually amazed how little comment is made about his vocal skills. I mentioned in my review of LA Woman that between Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix, any aspiring rock vocalist will found all the inspiration they need to perfect natural vocal rock phrasing; unforced and inspired. Listen to all the asides in Cross Town Traffic for many perfect examples.

When I first heard Voodoo Chile, I was unaware that the more familiar 'Slight Return' version was, in effect, a poor cousin of this monster of a jam. The interplay between Hendrix and Steve Winwood on the organ is one my favourite improvisations period. The appreciative audience in the studio adds hugely to the spirit of the age. As Mr Mojo himself would later comment, this really is a 'stoned immaculate' performance; encapsulating the blues and psychedelic influences whilst truly progressing rock music.

That Hendrix passed the vocal duties to Noel Redding for Little Miss Strange, for me didn't detract from the effectiveness of the track at all. This song needed a more 'twee', mid-sixties pop styled vocal, which Hendrix's stoned Southern drawl simply wasn't suited to.

Another attraction of Electric Ladyland was and is the huge diversity of music on offer. There are vast complex meandering jams, relatively simple verse-chorus-verse, etc, pop-orientated tracks, as well as pure blues and some tracks which are beyond genre categorisation, even now, forty years later.

I may have been familiar with Burning Of The Midnight Lamp before Electric Ladyland, but when listened to in context alongside this diversity of musical styles, it was difficult not to marvel at the magnitude of his talent. There is more invention across the four sides of Electric Ladyland than in the entire career of many of his esteemed peers.

When I came across Rainy Day, I had to ask what Miles Davis must have thought looking over his shoulder from the Bitches Brew sessions. Here was psychedelic jazz with horns and organs, influencing the whole jazz fusion movement which would emerge in the next few years. Truly innovative.

For many, the greatest achievement of the album is 1983 (A Merman I Should Turn To Be). It is clearly the most out and out prog track of the album. Beautiful percussion, restrained guitar and ethereal lyrics combine to provide an entirely legal high.

Still Raining, Still Dreaming must have had Hendrix's contemporaries weeping with envy at his dexterity and invention, while All Along The Watchtower is surely a contender for the greatest cover version. Possibly my favourite opening ten seconds of any track, ever.

When I realised that the song I was most familiar with before listening to the Electric Ladyland, was the classic 'Slight Return' version of Voodoo Chile, and that it was at least paralleled in its excellence across almost the entire album, I knew that this was a classic album by any measure.

Utterly unique and all the better for it, this is the one Hendrix album that anyone should own.

Review of The Door's L.A. Woman

Released 1971

"Cops in cars, the topless bars.
Never saw a woman...so alone, so alone
So alone, so alone.
Motel, Money, Murder, Madness.
Let's change the mood from glad to sadness.
Mr. Mojo Risin".

My only previous Doors album was their debut. Leaping from that to their last album proper (no one really counts the two efforts without Jim Morrison surely?) was an odd way for me to build up their discography; the contrast in styles between the two are amongst the most pronounced in any bands catalogue.

A significant number of the albums I purchased in my late teens were chosen through economy and availability. Spotting an unknown, unrecognised second hand album for one pound from the late sixties or early seventies with odd or interesting artwork, pretentious song titles, side long suites or one that simply looked 'interesting', would always inspire me to put my hand in my pocket.

Hence, the battered and faded copy of L.A. Woman with suspicious stains on the reverse, spotted in Helston market for 50p was destined to end up on my shelves.

The contrast in sleeve design between their first and last albums was distinctly odd. The iconic artwork of their eponymous album showed the young, mysterious, sensual, powerful Morrison brooding magnificently into the lens, whilst his band members faded solemnly into shadow. On L.A. Woman, Morrison - bearded and bloated and looking much older than his 27 years - is hunched down to look shorter and thereby less important than his band mates. His appearance is exaggerated further by the awful pastel yellow colouring which makes Ray Manzarek look like one of the Simpsons.

Because the first album was predominantly energetic, intellectual pop, the bluesy intro to The Changeling took me by surprise, as did the guttural grunting which announces Morrison's presence. Only four and half years passed between the two albums, but Morrisons growling rasp is more akin to an aging bluesman. The overall sound was much thicker with a session bassist adding to Manzarek's left hand. This was unmistakably an album by The Doors, but with a maturity which belied their still tender years and short career.

Love Her Madly was a perfect pop song with a typically infectious keyboard motif demonstrating their collective ability to write commercially successful three minute tunes, although they were clearly ploughing a blues based furrow.

Both Been Down So Long and Cars Hiss By My Window show a very different vocal style and the incredible diversity of Robby Kriegers playing, with the pacing of the latter in particular revealing a very different writing style.

I've long maintained that any aspiring rock singer only needs to study the works of Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix to learn all there is to know about perfecting rock vocal phrasing. Both singers styles are, in my opinion, natural and unforced and have never been surpassed.

The quality of Morrison's phrasing and overall delivery is superbly illustrated on the title song, which, is for me, one of the finest moments in my entire music collection. The structure of the song is pure prog, expertly constructed with moments of genuine drama. Although I have heard it probably hundreds of times, the point where the tempo shifts and slows from driving rock to slow controlled blues-prog - "change the mood from glad to sadness" - makes me shiver appreciatively every time. Genius.

Side two is arguably much more prog like. L'America and Hyacinth House could just as easily have been found on the first Van Der Graaf Generator album: weird pop, if you like.

Crawling King Snake is a blues cover which could have been a horrible self parody were it not for the radical change in Morrison's voice and capability of the musicians.

The WASP was the last recorded opportunity Morrison had to set his poetry directly to music in his lifetime. Of course, it is easy to view his poetry as no better than sixth form doodling, but I think this undervalues the unique chemistry which occurs when his lyrics were accompanied by the music of The Doors. Supported with any other musicians, I don't think the result would have been as compelling.

Riders On The Storm in the context of the album - the last song of their career, in effect - takes on a very different complexion to it's status as a timeless single. At the risk of sounding as pretentious as many believe Mr Mojo himself to be, I consider the cumulative effect of the album to be a profound and mystical work of art. It will be a very good album indeed to push L.A. Woman out of my top three.