{"id":9596,"date":"2015-12-02T05:30:19","date_gmt":"2015-12-02T05:30:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/?p=9596"},"modified":"2015-12-02T13:23:54","modified_gmt":"2015-12-02T13:23:54","slug":"album-review-lee-michaels-the-complete-am-album-collection-part-two","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/2015\/12\/02\/album-review-lee-michaels-the-complete-am-album-collection-part-two\/","title":{"rendered":"Album Review: Lee Michaels — The Complete A&M Album Collection (Part Two)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Continued from Part One<\/a>…<\/i><\/p>\n

\"lee_michaels04\"Barrel<\/b><\/i>
\nMonths later, Lee Michaels returned with 1970’s Barrel<\/i>. Seemingly determined never to take the same musical approach twice in a row, for Barrel<\/i> Michaels brought back Drake Levin; the guitarist’s playing is all over the album, meshing tightly with Michaels and Frosty’s playing. Levin’s deft use of Leslie (spinning speaker cabinet) amplification on his guitar somehow makes the stringed instrument fit even better within the confines of a keyboard-driven album. \u201cWhat Now America\u201d picks up thematically where the previous album’s \u201cThe War\u201d left off. A rare Michaels love song, \u201cUmmmmm My Lady\u201d was selected as the (you guessed it: non-charting) single. Either a throwaway or an important statement, \u201cWhen Johnny Comes Marching Home Again\u201d (yes, that<\/i> one) gives nearly half of its run time to Frosty’s marching snare. A cover of Moby Grape<\/b>‘s \u201cMurder in My Heart (For the Judge)\u201d is even more soulful \u2013 and less histrionic \u2013 than the original. \u201cDay of Change\u201d has worn exceptionally well; it sounds more like the kind of album track one might hear in, say, 1973. \u201cDidn’t Know What We Had\u201d features Michaels on electric piano, an instrument of which he made surprisingly little use elsewhere. The brief \u201cAs Long As I Can\u201d closes the album on a downtempo note. Barrel<\/i> reached #51 on the album charts; it was Michaels’ best chart performance to date, and a taste of things to come.<\/p>\n

\"lee_michaels05\"\u201c5th\u201d<\/b><\/i>
\nIf there’s only one Lee Michaels LP in your collection, it’s probably this one. \u201c5th\u201d<\/i> was the album that launched Michaels into brief stardom. As ever, Michaels altered his approach for the 1971 album: Levin was absent, but so was Frosty. Drummer Joel Larson<\/b> (Grassroots<\/b>) took over percussion duties; his approach was a bit subtler and finessed, and suited the material. Merry Clayton<\/b>, the stirring voice heard on The Rolling Stones<\/b>‘ \u201cGimme Shelter\u201d lend her impressive (overdubbed) pipes to the album opener, \u201cKeep the Circle Turning.\u201d The gospel flavor of that song is carried through on most of the album; Michaels’ approach of simple chord structures gave him plenty of room to add filigree and nuance within relatively straightforward arrangements. Some yakety saxophone (courtesy of Jackie Kelso<\/b>) shows up on several numbers. Longtime Michaels followers may have sensed that his songwriting muse was wearing out; half of \u201c5th\u201d<\/i> is given over to cover songs (\u201cWillie & the Hand Jive,\u201d \u201cCan I Get A Witness,\u201d \u201cYa Ya\u201d). The album’s breakout track \u2013 and by far Lee Michaels’ most well-known song \u2013 is \u201cDo You Know What I Mean,\u201d a simple, soulful number that sounds as fresh today as it must have in 1971. Even though it was initially released as the b-side to \u201cKeep the Circle Turning,\u201d \u201cDo You Know What I Mean\u201d top-tenned \u2013 #6, actually \u2013 and no doubt helped \u201c5th\u201d<\/i> reach #16 on the album charts.<\/p>\n

\"lee_michaels06\"Space & First Takes<\/b><\/i>
\nFrustratingly, Michaels’ follow-up to the smash \u201c5th\u201d<\/i> seems \u2013 at least in retrospect \u2013 designed to sabotage any chance of commercial success. Space & First Takes<\/i> (1972) is a fine album; it simply isn’t the kind of thing people who bought \u201c5th\u201d<\/i> would have been expecting. Gone are the short, concise pop-soul of that album (and previous records). Instead Space & First Takes<\/i> is pretty much what its title suggests: a jam album made up of a mere five long pieces. As ever, the lineup doesn’t repeat its predecessor; here it’s a returning Drake Levin on guitar, drummer Keith Knudsen<\/b> (later of The Doobie Brothers<\/b>), and bassist Joel Christie<\/b> (the latter was the composer of \u201cKeep the Circle Turning\u201d from the previous record). If all that weren’t enough, Michaels drastically scaled back his keyboard playing and picked up an electric guitar. The guitar work \u2013 whether it’s Levin or Michaels \u2013 is impressive and well worth hearing, but that and the long song structures weren’t what people wanted at the time from Lee Michaels. There’s also a slightly distressing sameness to the first three numbers (the title track goes in a different direction, but would have felt more at home on the jammy Record Three of George Harrison<\/b>‘s All Things Must Pass<\/i>). Around the five-minute mark of \u201cSpace & First Takes,\u201d some ill-advised vocal meandering threatens to render the track unlistenable. A paucity of lyrics didn’t help the one-chord jam, either. Needless to say, there weren’t any hit singles from Space & First Takes<\/i> (\u201cHold On to Freedom\u201d was a non-charting single). The album only reached #78, the beginning of a rapid downward spiral in Michaels’ commercial fortunes.<\/p>\n

\"lee_michaels07\"Live<\/b><\/i>
\nThe tour supporting Space & First Takes<\/i> yielded the recording that made up this 1973 live album. Recorded at Carnegie Hall, Live<\/i>‘s sleeve made no mention of the venue; the box set’s liner notes explain why. Knudsen stayed on for the tour, bringing Michaels back to the two-piece approach of Lee Michaels<\/i>. The song selection on Live<\/i> is curious: only one tune from the album supposedly being promoted (Space & First Takes<\/i>), and no \u201cDo You Know What I Mean.\u201d It does, however, provide a nice overview of Michaels’ catalog, with at least one song from every album except 1968’s Carnival of Life<\/i>. An incendiary \u201cStormy Monday\u201d is a highlight. The seven minute \u201cDrum Solo\u201d is a bit much even for 1973, but the slow burn of \u201cForty Reasons\u201d is superb. After some downtempo numbers, Michaels implores the audience, \u201cYou gonna help us sing?\u201d and launches into a rousing, nine-minute version of \u201cHeighty Hi.\u201d The audience eats it up, and stays excited for the bluesy closer, \u201cRock Me Baby.\u201d Live<\/i> reached #135 on the Billboard<\/i> album charts. Despite that poor chart showing, it’s a fine document of Lee Michaels’ onstage performance, and it’s well recorded for its time.<\/p>\n

\"lee_michaels_best\"After fulfilling his contractual obligations with that live disc, Michaels left A&M and recorded a couple of albums for Columbia, followed by some extremely rare indie releases. But after 1982’s Absolute Lee<\/i>, he retired permanently from the music business. And he doesn’t give interviews, as I learned while trying to track him down a few years back for his perspective on guitarist Drake Levin<\/b>‘s group Brotherhood<\/b><\/a> (he gave the group an unreleased track of his, a cover of Joe South<\/b>‘s \u201cRose Garden,\u201d \u2013 probably cut during the Recital<\/i> sessions \u2013 to which they added new vocals and released as their own; that, too, is another story<\/a>).<\/p>\n