{"id":37,"date":"2009-09-01T05:42:59","date_gmt":"2009-09-01T10:42:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/?p=37"},"modified":"2025-05-27T07:21:39","modified_gmt":"2025-05-27T11:21:39","slug":"album-review-cass-elliot-the-road-is-no-place-for-a-lady","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/2009\/09\/01\/album-review-cass-elliot-the-road-is-no-place-for-a-lady\/","title":{"rendered":"Album Review: Cass Elliot \/ The Road is No Place for a Lady"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>In 1972 <strong>Cass Elliot<\/strong>&#8216;s solo career was in full swing, but she was restless. A switch from ABC\/Dunhill to RCA afforded her greater artistic control over her material. She didn&#8217;t play an instrument, and she didn&#8217;t often compose songs, but she didn&#8217;t need to. As an interpreter of the work of others, Cass Elliot had (and has) few peers.<\/p>\n<p>Two of her three RCA albums (plus a few unreleased tracks) have been combined onto a single CD. <em>Cass Elliot<\/em> and <em>The Road is No Place for a Lady<\/em> were both originally released in 1972. <img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/cass_elliot_the_road_is_no_place_for_a_lady.jpg\" alt=\"Cass Elliot \/ The Road is No Place for a Lady\" width=\"216\" height=\"216\" align=\"right\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" \/><\/p>\n<p><em><strong>CASS ELLIOT<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<p>The songs on the self-titled <em>Cass Elliot<\/em> make clear Cass&#8217; desire to move away from the bubblegum orientation of her (excellent) earlier solo career. The instrumentation on the disc&#8217;s opener (<strong>Randy Newman<\/strong>&#8216;s &#8220;I&#8217;ll Be Home&#8221;) sounds like a restrained <strong>Elton John<\/strong> &#8212; with those sweeping yet tasteful <strong>Paul Buckmaster<\/strong> arrangements. Cass&#8217; vocals are on a par with &#8212; and evoke the memories of &#8212; <strong>Carole King<\/strong> and <strong>Laura Nyro<\/strong>. This and other tracks make a strong case that if Cass would ever get her due, she&#8217;d be considered in the pantheon of pop vocal interpretive stylists that includes names like <strong>Ronstadt <\/strong>and <strong>Midler<\/strong>; names for whom the quality of their pipes and the good taste of their material selection more than offset any perceived deficiencies in other artistic areas (if any).<\/p>\n<p>Her reading of the &#8220;Baby I&#8217;m Yours&#8221; &#8212; a 1965 hit for <strong>Barbara Lewis<\/strong> &#8212; is soulful, swaying and effortless.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Judee Sill<\/strong>&#8216;s &#8220;Jesus Was a Cross Maker&#8221; has a gospel-pop-country-MOR vibe that works despite (or <em>along with<\/em>, depending on one&#8217;s viewpoint) the subject matter; she breathes life into the song, and as always, the arrangement is peerless.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;That Song&#8221; is a sentimental ditty that is a bit more in line with the material on 1969&#8217;s <em>Bubblegum, Lemonade, and&#8230;Something for Mama<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;When it Doesn&#8217;t Work Out&#8221; is a lovely track composed by Elliot&#8217;s younger sister <strong>Leah Kunkel<\/strong>; the instrumentation is subdued, and Cass&#8217; voice carries the fetching melody. At the end of one particular phrase, she holds a note over several measures, demonstrating the beautiful instrument of her voice. A brief and tasteful sax solo wraps up the piece.<\/p>\n<p>Elliot rescues <strong>Bobby Darin<\/strong>&#8216;s 1960 song &#8220;I&#8217;ll Be There&#8221; from obscurity (and from <strong>Elvis<\/strong>: he recorded a cover of it two years before Cass).<\/p>\n<p>Her cover of the mid-period <strong>Beach Boys<\/strong> semi-hit &#8220;Disney Girls&#8221; is well-done, but the mawkishness of the lyrics (blame <strong>Bruce Johnston<\/strong>, not <strong>Brian Wilson<\/strong> for those) makes it the album&#8217;s weakest point.<\/p>\n<p>Other than &#8220;Baby I&#8217;m Yours&#8221;, <strong>Randy Newman<\/strong>&#8216;s &#8220;I Think It&#8217;s Gonna Rain Today&#8221; is perhaps the most well-known song covered on the album. Underrated wah-wah guitar places the version in its time, but the gospel-chorus vocal tailpiece of the song brings it to a transcendent place. As with all the flourishes on the album, listeners get just a taste, then it&#8217;s gone. The surging arrangement at the very end makes the track feel like an album closer. But it&#8217;s not.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Cherries Jubilee&#8221; by <strong>Marilyn Messina<\/strong> (a backing vocalist on the album) is pleasant enough; its highlight is the (again) brief horn piece in the middle of the song. The track was originally the b-side of the &#8220;Baby I&#8217;m Yours&#8221; single.<\/p>\n<p><em>Cass Elliot<\/em> wraps up with a lush MOR reading of &#8220;It&#8217;s All in the Game&#8221;, an oft-covered song originally a hit in the 1950s. The piano solo is in a style likely more appreciated by parents of those buying the album in 1972.<\/p>\n<p>Overall, the album is a well-chosen collection mostly of standards and underappreciated numbers by other composers, with very little filler. While the reissue doesn&#8217;t provide a list of personnel (other than daughter <strong>Owen Elliot-Kugel<\/strong>&#8216;s recollection of seeing the session sheets: &#8220;Wow! It&#8217;s quite an impressive list&#8221;), apparently some big names took part: famed jazz guitarist <strong>Larry Carlton<\/strong>; <strong>Venetta Fields<\/strong> (vocalist on <strong>Pink Floyd<\/strong>&#8216;s <em>Dark Side of the Moon<\/em>), <strong>John Guerin<\/strong> (former <strong>Zappa <\/strong>drummer, later in <strong>LA Express<\/strong>), Beach Boys <strong>Carl Wilson<\/strong> (vocals) and Bruce Johnston (keys, vocals, songwriting); <strong>Carol Kaye<\/strong> (ace bassist of the <strong>Wrecking Crew<\/strong>); and <strong>Louie Shelton<\/strong> (guitar &#8212; that&#8217;s him on the terrific solo of <strong>The Monkees<\/strong>&#8216; &#8220;Valleri&#8221;).<\/p>\n<p><strong>BONUS TRACKS<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>A few rare tracks follow on the 2009 disc. First up, &#8220;East of the Sun (and West of the Moon)&#8221; is a highly stylized pop tune with a Broadway feel; the song evokes an unavoidable mental picture of an elegant couple dancing: him in tux and tails, her in a slinky cocktail dress. And Cass is swaying gently next to the piano player. Elliot had a real feel for this sort of material, and had the market had any interest for such things in &#8217;72, she could have followed this path in greater depth.<\/p>\n<p>A reading of &#8220;We&#8217;ll See&#8221; by <strong>John Sebastian<\/strong> is closer stylistically to Elliot&#8217;s work with <strong>The Mamas and the Papas<\/strong> (and wouldn&#8217;t sound out of place on an LP by <strong>Spanky and Our Gang<\/strong>). The brief but enjoyable tune has an old-timey feel that is reinforced by the tasteful tack piano backing. It definitely doesn&#8217;t sound like an outtake.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Berry Gordy<\/strong>&#8216;s slinky, bluesy &#8220;Try It, Baby&#8221; is an anomaly in the context of the other songs on this disc. Yet again we have an example of another direction Elliot could have explored; she delivers the material convincingly. She truly could deliver the goods on a sexy vocal number.<\/p>\n<p><em><strong>THE ROAD IS NO PLACE FOR A LADY<\/strong><\/em><br \/>\nElliot&#8217;s second RCA album was released mere months after <em>Cass Elliot<\/em>, and showed her exploring a more contemporary vein. The perceived Elton John connection on the previous album is replaced here by a real one: arrangements on <em>The Road is No Place for a Lady<\/em> are by <strong>Del Newman<\/strong>, who provided similar expertise to Elton&#8217;s work around the same time.&#8221;(If You&#8217;re Gonna) Break Another Heart&#8221; is a sweeping pop number on a par with the underrated &#8220;It&#8217;s Getting Better&#8221; from 1969&#8217;s <em>Bubblegum&#8230;<\/em> LP. The song is almost over before it starts, though; like all but three tracks on <em>The Road<\/em>, it&#8217;s well under the three-minute mark. Clearly the plan was to get these songs on the radio; sadly this album &#8212; like <em>Cass Elliot<\/em> before it &#8212; didn&#8217;t chart.<\/p>\n<p>Sweeping is an easily overused descriptor, but a listen to Elliot&#8217;s work leaves one speechless. <strong>Jim Webb<\/strong>&#8216;s &#8220;Saturday Suit&#8221; is yet another exquisitely-crafted pop number. Cass&#8217; voice is in its typical fine form, and the peerless arrangement is so good that it would hold up as an instrumental. It&#8217;s right up there with the best of early 70s pop.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Does Anybody Love You&#8221; illustrates Cass&#8217; commanding vocal control: when the melody goes up, she&#8217;s right on top of it.. The gospel-tinged piano again evokes Elton John. While no detailed personnel info is available, the album was recorded at London&#8217;s Trident with British musicians, so&#8230;who knows?<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Walk Beside Me&#8221; is a pleasant downtempo number, but the wah-wah guitar renders the track more of-its-time than timeless. Still, the vocal chorus makes the song interesting.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;All My Life&#8221; is another track (co-)written by Cass&#8217; sister Leah Kunkel. The vocal carries the melody while the instrumentation is understated. The backing builds as the song progresses &#8212; a characteristic of a lot of the songs on this disc. The song ends a bit abruptly, though, and seems to leave its potential unrealized, almost as if it were a demo recording. Yet the bass line in particular is reminiscent of <strong>Charles Larkey<\/strong>&#8216;s (of <strong>The Fugs<\/strong>!) work on <strong>Carole King<\/strong>&#8216;s <em>Tapestry<\/em>, making the lack of musician info all the more frustrating. We do know that <strong>Chris Spedding<\/strong> plays guitar on the disc, but there&#8217;s not really a lot of guitar on the album.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Paul Williams<\/strong>&#8216; (remember him?) &#8220;Say Hello&#8221; gets the Cass treatment. Apparently this is the only instance of this song being recorded by anyone. It&#8217;s not among Williams&#8217; most memorable tunes, but it does suggest that Cass could easily have recorded an album&#8217;s worth of his material and turned out a good product.<\/p>\n<p>Since it&#8217;s contemporary-oriented rather than standards-centric, <em>The Road<\/em> includes tracks that are sourced from lesser-known composers than those on its predecessor. The piano-based &#8220;Who in the World&#8221; is one of these. Good, not a high point, over quickly.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;When Love Was Not a Word&#8221; features careful double-tracking of Cass&#8217; lead vocal, and a gospel-chorus styled backing. It&#8217;s a pretty dated-sounding piece but enjoyable nonetheless.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Norman &#8220;Hurricane&#8221; Smith<\/strong> &#8212; engineer on many <strong>Beatles <\/strong>records and producer of several early-mid-period Pink Floyd albums &#8212; finds his &#8220;Oh Babe, What Would You Say&#8221; covered by Cass. Somewhat predictably, the arrangement will be familiar to fans of hits by the <strong>New Vaudeville Band<\/strong>, Spanky and Our Gang, and <strong>Sopwith Camel<\/strong>. Kitschy but fun. Oddly, Cass&#8217; version was released at around the same time as Smith put out his own version (&#8220;Hurricane&#8221; got the hit: #3 on <em>Billboard&#8217;s<\/em> pop charts).<\/p>\n<p>The album (and the 2009 twofer disc) wraps up with the title track from <em>The Road is No Place for a Lady<\/em>, penned by Leah Kunkel. Here, Cass sounds unnervingly like Bette Midler, whose career was just taking off (Midler&#8217;s debut LP <em>The Divine Miss M<\/em> dropped November 1972, mere weeks after <em>The Road<\/em> hit the streets). This melancholy &#8212; yet again too brief &#8212; track is a fitting way to end the album.<\/p>\n<p>While Cass would put out a live album in 1973 (<em>Don&#8217;t Call Me Mama Anymore<\/em>), these two 1972 albums (and the bonus tracks) represent the last studio output for this vastly underrated vocalist.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In 1972 Cass Elliot&#8216;s solo career was in full swing, but she was restless. A switch from ABC\/Dunhill to RCA afforded her greater artistic control over her material. She didn&#8217;t [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[65],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-37","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-review","cat-65-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=37"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":29459,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37\/revisions\/29459"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=37"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=37"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=37"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}