Original released on CD Reprise 9 47612-2
(US 2000, June 13)
Don McLean's
second album, "American Pie", which was his first to gain recognition after the
negligible initial sales of 1970's "Tapestry", is necessarily dominated by its
title track, a lengthy, allegorical history of rock & roll, because it
became an unlikely hit, topping the singles chart and putting the LP at number
one as well. "American Pie" has remained as much a cultural
touchstone as a song, sung by everyone from Garth Brooks to Madonna, its title
borrowed for a pair of smutty teen comedies, while the record itself has earned
a registered three-million plays on
Despite the presence of a pair of ballads - one of them ("New Horizons") by Justin Hayward the latter's most romantic number since "Nights in White Satin" - "Seventh Sojourn" was notable at the time of its release for showing the hardest-rocking sound this band had ever produced on record. It's all relative, of course, compared to their prior work, but the music is comparatively stripped down here, and on a lot of it Graeme Edge's drumming and John Lodge's bass work comprise a more forceful and assertive rhythm section than they had on earlier records, on numbers such as "Lost in a Lost World," "You and Me," and "I'm Just a Singer (In a Rock & Roll Band)." The latter, authored by Lodge, was - along with Lodge's "Isn't Life Strange" - one of two AM radio hits that helped drive the sales of this album, issued in early October of 1972, past all previous levels. Indeed, it was with the release of this album that the Moodies achieved their great commercial success in America and around the world, with a "Grand Tour" that kept them on the road for much of the year that followed. The irony was that it was all about to end for them, for years to come, and the signs of it were all over this record - "Seventh Sojourn" took a long time to record, and a lot of the early work on it had to be junked ("Isn't Life Strange" was one of the few early songs to get completed); it was clear to all concerned except the fans that, after six years of hard work in their present configuration, they all needed to stop working with each other for a time, and this was clear in the songs - many have a downbeat, pensive edge to them, and if they reflected a questioning attitude that had come out on recent albums, the tone of the questioning on songs like "Lost in a Lost World," "You and Me," and "When You're a Free Man" had a darker, more desperate tone. Perhaps the group's mostly youthful, collegiate audience didn't notice at the time because it fit the mood of the times - the album hit the stores in America the day before Richard Nixon's landslide presidential re-election victory (the culmination of events behind the scenes that would subsequently drive him from office). But the members were not working well together, and this would be the last wholly successful record - difficult as it was to deliver - that this lineup of the band would record, as well as the last new work by the group for over five years. And oddly enough, even amid the difficulties in getting it finished, "Seventh Sojourn" would offer something new in the way of sounds from the group - Michael Pinder, in particular, introduced a successor to the Mellotron, with which he'd been amazing audiences for six years, in the form of the Chamberlin, which is all over this album. (Bruce Eder in AllMusic)
When Jimi died, on September 18, 1970, he left behind a lot of unfinished material for his next record; ment to be called "The Cry Of Love" or "The Rising Sun". Actually, he had been putting aside tapes of what he has the most satisfied with for the past years, to this album. After his death, Eddie Kramer and Mitch Mitchell sat down to organize his library of halfly finished tapes, and arrange them into an album. Mitch played a whole lot of things again, and added new stuff where something was missing. Because of the general excellence of the engineering and production, it's hard to say just how complete the album was before his death, but it is clear that if these tracks were mostly finished and in the can, then the only thing holding up their release must have been Jimi himself. They are that good. The state of the songs ranged from "Night Bird Flying" and "Freedom", wich was almost finished, to "Angel" and "Drifting", that was missing serious amouts of work. After five months, the record was ready for release. "The Cry of Love" was Hendrix's final effort, and it is a beautiful, poignant testimonial, a fitting coda to the career of a man who was clearly the finest electric guitarist to be produced by the Sixties. This record seems more complete than the album Janis left for us, but like "Pearl", it too seems strangely foreshortened, a venture caught in the process of becoming and suddenly halted. The fact that "The Cry of Love" is still as good as it is must serve as some sort of reminder as to just how large looms the shadow of its creator.
"Catch Bull
at Four" began with a statement of purpose, "Sitting", in which Cat
Stevens tried to talk himself into believing that he hadn't stalled, beginning
to worry that he might be falling behind schedule or even going in circles. It
may be that Stevens' recent experiences had contributed to his sense that he
was running out of time. Though he was never a directly confessional writer,
one got the sense that his disaffection with the life of a pop star was
reasserting itself. And while he was touring unhappily around the world, the
world was still going to hell in a handbasket. Yet Stevens was still motivated
by his urge to help mankind mend its ways. Love provided some comfort, but for
the most part, the singer who had seemed so excited on his last album now
sounded apprehensive. Stevens set his reflections to a mixture of musical
styles that included traces of old English folk songs, madrigals, and Greek
folk music along with more typical rock stylings, all performed with the
stop-and-start rhythms that added drama to his performances. Nevertheless, "Catch Bull at Four" was a more difficult listen than its three predecessors. Coming
off the momentum of "Teaser and the Firecat", it roared up the charts to number
one, but stayed in the Top Ten fewer weeks than its predecessor. Fans who had
been stirred by Stevens' rhythmic tunes and charmed by his thoughtful lyrics
were starting to lose interest in his quasi-religious yearnings, busy
arrangements, and self-absorbed, melodramatic singing. His career still had a
ways to go, but as of "Catch Bull at Four", he had passed his peak (in AllMusic)