10.25.06

Retro sparkle and shine - Bobby Bare Sr.

Posted in some albums we done liked others we ain't - October 25th, 2006 at 4:51 pm by Cricket

A while back I got an advance copy of the new Bobby Bare, Jr., album. I was excited like a kid on Christmas. Sadly I was like a kid on Christmas who wants a Barbie Doll and gets an electric mixer instead. [You are letting down Team Feminism with both of these examples, loser.--Mimi] I love all BBjr’s previous efforts but I haven’t been able to get behind this one yet. Who knows maybe I’ll pull it out again in a few months and after a couple listens I’ll wonder why I wasn’t lovin’ on it all along.

Today while scrolling through the old iPod to give BBjr one last try I realized I’d loaded but never listened to Bobby Bare, Sr.’s latest release, The Moon Was Blue.

Golly, I thought, this can’t be worse than this thing I’m already not liking. [This sentence is jacked up, but I am in a hurry to read comics and can't be assed to fix it.--Mimi] The verdict? Holy fucking hell do I love this album.

You can read plenty about Bobby’s history elsewhere–indeed, it seems to be the focus of every article about this album–so I’m going to mostly skip that part, and simply say, yeah, he’s been recording since the early 60s and he took a 22 year hiatus before The Moon is Blue was recorded. Everything else I have to say is about the music.

[*redacted entire section Cricket wrote that sounded like she was high on Klonopin.* It involved the Greek pantheon. You don't even want to know.--Mimi]

BBjr produced this album for his daddy. There’s something to this album that’s reminiscent of some of completely bizarre orchestrations on some Willie songs from the 70s. Except that those Willie songs make me cringe a little, and I love everything on The Moon is Blue to little tiny bits. It’s shiny and new for sure but it completely recalls country songs of the last 50 years. I can see the shadows of sequined Nudie suits [Uh, do you think our readership will know you mean the sequined suits and not think that's the Klonopin again?--Mimi] and huge hair lingering behind the music. Most the songs here aren’t Bobby’s own, but all are exceptionally suited to his voice. I can’t stress enough how right I think BBjr was in choosing the songs and arranging them as he did.

The album opens with a song popularized by Andy Williams, “Are You Sincere.” This a heavily orchestrated piece, lush, richly melodic yet tinkly and bubbly. The very nearly cheesy retro-ness of it is saved by how amazingly strong Bobby’s voice is here. His voice is very well suited to the 1950s earnestness of the song.

“Everybody’s Talking at Me” starts of with strangely bouncy sound that would almost be more at home on a 70s glam concept album, but somehow it works here and flows easily into an arrangement that’s more 70s country than most of the rest of the album. The steel guitar comes in on the tropical, more Hawaiian end of the spectrum. Bare’s singing is at it’s best here, comfortable, friendly, gruff enough to be sexy. It’s better than the Jimmy Buffet version. I’m half tempted to find how many versions there are of this song and compare them all.

[Are you dissing Jimmy Buffett? Ok, it's on! *takes off earrings* This song is great. BBsr's voice on this track makes me want to bawl my eyes out.--Mimi]

[Better than Jimmy Buffet is a compliment to BBsr not a diss on JB, whore.--Cricket]

Roy Clark’s “Yesterday When I was Young” is a melancholy song that leaves me feeling like a little kid–sitting on my grandparents’ sofa listening to music that I can’t quite comprehend that is all moving me deeply anyway. I just want to fall into Bobby’s voice; it’s softer and more comfortable than that old sofa. [You are a sentimental fool, which will make you easy to manipulate when the revolution comes…wait, was that out loud?--Mimi] The violin on this track is maybe what gets me the most. What? Violins always made me cry when I was a child. Ask my mom. She’s around here somewhere. [This is one of the songs on this album that I think is creepy. I can imagine it on a Tarantino or Ramirez soundtrack. The tinkly piano makes me want to hide under a blanket like some moron in a Japanese horror movie. The whistling almost made me cry. This should be on a country music Halloween cd.--Mimi]

Bobby’s longtime friend Shel Silverstein wrote “The Ballad of Lucy Jordan” which was, I believe, sung previously by Marianne Faithfull (what do you mean I can Google that and give you confirmation? Feh, sometimes I’m just lazy). [We're a professional outfit. Yes, Marianne Faithfull.--Mimi] Bobby does the number up-tempo without losing the folky roots of the song. Despite the emotion in Bobby’s voice, I don’t find this song is as sad here as in the Faithfull version. Perhaps the jazzy drums give it a little more hope than I’ve heard in it previously. Hmm, it’s hard to say. It scans almost more like a song about following dreams than about suicide. [This song is so dissonant, the music from the lyrics, that I have no idea what the point was in the production. Were they high? This song scares me for the sanity of the production team.--Mimi]

Okay, I did my homework on “Shine On, Harvest Moon” because I couldn’t figure out why I knew the song. It turns out it’s almost a hundred years old and I could have heard it in dozens of configurations. The arrangement here pays homage to the 1930s-era versions. Bobby does some nice talking between choruses that’s almost Barry White sexy, for reals. [You are grossing me out. Isn't Bobby like 113 yrs old? You are sick.--Mimi] The kicker is the end, two beats shy of Bob Wills’ famous “A-ha!” bringing home as totally old-timey goodness.

[This is the joke I made out loud to her when I read this: "You crack me up sometimes. You were all Hey, this 'Shine On, Harvest Moon' song sounds familiar! I wonder why?. I got another one for you, it's called 'Happy Birthday…'" All that being said, A-HA!--Mimi]

“Am I That Easy to Forget” spins back into the totally 70s vintage sound but with guitar that sounds almost like jet planes screaming through the background. After you listen to this you will surely forget that Englebert Humperdinck ever sang this song and that’s definitely a good thing.

We close out with “Fellow Travelers.” Listening to this, reveling in the way you genuinely can’t tell if it was recorded today or 32 years ago I wondered if someone who was say 32 in 1973 would hate this for being so strangely redolent of that time? Do I perhaps love it because it sounds so completely like something from my childhood? The song closes with a chorus of children singing which only adds to odd sensation of it being somehow pulled from my own past. [This song is so creepy I think it should be the theme song for Children of the Damned 3. *screams in terror*--Mimi]

This isn’t an album you can just drop on any old time and listen too. It definitely takes a certain mood, the right time, the appropriate place. Much like some of Waylon and Willie’s albums from the era it echoes. I think there’s certain humor under all the songs, sung with a wink and nod and if you don’t get that you probably won’t love this album like I do. [It must be, because it is so freakin' strange. I think BBjr smoked his weight in dope when he was producing this.--Mimi] Plus Bobby’s voice obviously speaks to me. And indeed he has the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen and I think that completely comes across when he sings. [His voice is totally amazing, resonant and deep and textured. The album is…weird.--Mimi]

If you get The Moon is Blue and love it and start picking through Bare’s back catalogue, don’t miss “Dropkick Me Jesus” or any of the strange novelty songs he did, many of which were written by Shel Silverstein, along with all the country standard songs he did. Also check out Old Dogs, the band he had with Mel Tillis and Waylon.

All right, I’m going to make some hideous 70s cocktail, put on a green polyester dress, and go dance around the living room to this album one more time.

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