By Gregor von Kallahann
Devotees of singer Tracy Nelson (and I surely number myself amongst them) have been waiting for years for an official ‘live’ release from this extraordinary artist. Tracy has freed 21 albums prior to this release, all of which have their wondrous moments and a good deal of are downright clasics(including 2001′s independently freed EBONY & IRONY, as well as I FEEL SO GOOD, and MOVE ON from the 1990s (both on Rounder Records), and various re-releases from her early days in the 60s and 70s). It’s all outstanding stuff, but even folks who love her studio work have been known to come out of one her concerts utterly astonished. It’s almost as even though even the best studio settings can not do this astonishingly powerful singer justice.
I’ve always said that if I were a waiter in a club where Tracy Nelson was performing, I’d probably be fired before the night was through. Because I’d doubtless just stand there stock still, tray in hand and jaw dropped to my chest (if not the floor) in a state of finish awe.
So at last, we have the live album that a heap of of us have been awaiting for the last two decades or longer. It’s in all likelihood a cliche to say that it was “worth the wait,” but in fact, it was.
This release is the work of a mature artist, one still very much in control of her instrument, but likewise whose artistry and resourcefulness has only deepened over the years. She wrote her signature song, the classic “Down So Low” when she was in her early twenties–a remarkable feat for an individual so young–but the version included on this recording seems to come from an even deeper place. She sings each song on this record with conviction and authority, but nowhere is it more evident than on “Down So Low” and on Memphis Slim’s blues classic “Mother Earth”–both of which she recorded for the firstborn time in 1968.
Tracy has assembled a crackerjack band for this recording. She does not always work with a horn section, but when she does, the results are closely always stellar. The horns give her that extra oomph and send her already soaring vocals into the stratosphere. And she has found a outstanding setting and a more than enthusiastic audience in that Tennessee prison. This is an audience starved for music, and even if they had no idea who Tracy was beforehand, they respond eagerly and gratefully to what they soon realize is a veritably initial rate performance.
The selection of material could not have been better. Aside from the two early classics brought up above, there are new versions of songs from allround Tracy’s lengthy career. She opens with a “I Need All the Help I Can Get,” in the first place recorded in the 90s for Rounder. It’s a rousing opener and sets the tone nicely. She follows with a song that she has never in truth freed on record, though she has been known to carry out it live before, Patsy Cline’s classic “Walkin’ After Midnight.” Tracy is one of the few singer’s who may take on a Patsy Cline number and with great success make it her own. (Eat your heart out, LeAnn and k.d.) So in the space of two songs, she demonstrates her astonishing range and versatility. She follows up with another new track, Lyle Lovett’s “God Will,” a song which fits her voice perfectly and which demonstrates that she did not leave all sense of sarcasm back with the last record’s “ebony.”
Her powerful r&b shouters never discontinue to astound, and stand up to repeated plays. But those repeated plays will also demonstrate the subtlety with which she approaches the ballads included here. Her phrasing on “God Will” and on “Tennessee Blues,” introductory recorded in 1972 or ’73, is controlled, disciplined and intelligently executed. She could instruct a master class–provided she could find students worthy of her time.
Tracks that will be more or less intimate to fans are given new life in their live versions. Songs like the recent “Got A New Truck” and 1974′s “After The Fire Is Gone” were in the first place recorded as duets (and noteworthy ones they were too; the former having been a joint venture with another outstanding lady, Marcia Ball, and the latter a collaboration with the legendary Willie Nelson–who is, by the way, NO RELATION), and as good as the originals were, it’s outstanding to listen Tracy tackle them as solo numbers. Nearly all antecedently recorded tracks have been revamped in ways that fans will find interesting, if not illuminating.
Nearly each review of Tracy Nelson’s recorded work or of her live performances includes the observation that it’s a downright shame that she is not better known. That’s another cliche that’s become hard to refrain from when talking when it comes to this great singer. From everything I know in regards to her, I don’t think she particularly cares in regards to reaching superstar status. She is basi and foremost, an artist. But like numerous of her devoted fans, I still am eager to disseminate the word to as a good deal of receptive souls as possible. I figure it’s doing them a favor.
19 of 19 humans found the following review helpful.
Tracy Rocks The Jail House
By James Morris
When the hell is the public ever going to catch on to this woman? Most of the record stores I’ve visited have only had one or two copies in stock. That is an sheer sin. In her 35 year recording career, this is Tracy Nelson’s 21st release – 22nd, if you count the Best of Tracy Nelson / Mother Earth – yet for a heap of reason, she is not a household word. (Well, I could give you lots of reasons, but don’t get me started). Established superstars (such as Willie Nelson, Linda Ronstadt and James Taylor, to name just a few) have praised her for years as “one of the best voices around” and “a singers singer”. She has a powerful, expressive voice, demonstrating a talent that is almost superhuman, but inexplicably, she remains a secret. Her music is known only to music insiders, and a few lucky fans, who seem to number only in the thousands, rather of the millions she deserves.
For her basi live album, recorded before inmates in the West Tennessee Detention Center, Tracy revisits two of her old standards from her basi Mother Earth album – Down So Low (her self-penned theme song) and Mother Earth, a fantasti blues reflectivity on mortality written by Memphis Slim, from which her old band took their name. Esquire magazine once called Down So Low, “the saddest song ever written”. Down So Low has been recorded by Linda Ronstadt, Etta James and Maria Muldaur (among others). It has never received a more inviolable treatment than it does here. Her legendary vocal prowess has only bettered over the years, and her reputation as singing powerhouse is well supported by this release. This version of Down So Low compares rather favorably with the original, which she recorded in 1968, proving that she still has it. How a good deal of singers may re-record the same song after 35 years and sound better than ever doing it? I can’t without apparent effort think of a single one.
The venue has an impressive effect on the selections. For anybody who has ever been to jail, or if you are a family member, or the loved one of a prisoner / ex-prisoner, some of these songs will take on a heartbreaking intimacy that is closely too personal to bear. When Tracy sings her theme song, Down So Low, suddenly, for me, it is no longer a song of unrequited love; rather I listen my own mother wailing in anguish at the primary arrest of my older brother (“When you went away, I cried for so long…”).
I have been privileged to listen Tracy live a heap of times, the experience of which no record may ever entirely convey – her voice is just too powerful. Before I even read the notes, I looked at the track listing and saw Tennessee Blues, and my original thought was, “I’ve never heard her do that live. That’s an old one”. Almost reflexively, I started to run the lyrics through my head, and a chill ran down my spine. “If I had my way, I’d leave here today, I’d leave in a hurry…” the song starts. Instantly, images of those inmates flooded my mind, smiles and possibly a few tears on their contented faces. All of a sudden, the identification they will have to have experienced with that lyric and the stark reality of their circumstance came pouring out of the words right at me, and the song took on a new, heartbreaking, yet comforting profundity. I may see those inmates in their drab uniforms (no matter what color, prison garb is drab), nodding their heads and agreeing 1000% with the sentiment behind the song. “A place I could use… a place I could lose those Tennessee Blues”. Wow. Tennessee Prison. Tennessee Blues.
Tracy doesn’t stop there. She has at long last consecrated to record her version of Walkin’ After Midnight, made famous by the late Patsy Cline. Tracy’s rendition owes not one thing to Patsy; as few singers can, she manages to make it her own without dredging up comparison to Patsy, or detracting at all from the memory of the original.
She likewise revisits numerous of her best stuff with new verve, including her self-penned (with assistance from Marcia Ball) Got A New Truck (a song I confess I loathed until this reading – but I’m not into autos) and a solo version of the duet for which she and Willie Nelson received a Grammy for Best Country Duo in 1974, After The Fire Is Gone. She has lost none of her unbelievable voice, and seems to improve with age, like fine marijuana.
Added to this wondrous mix of Blues, R & B and Country (and ALL her albums are a fantasti mix of Blues, R & B and Country, with just a smidge of Country-Blues influenced Rock to round it all out) is a exhaustively initial arrangement / cover of Lyle Lovett’s lyrically ironic God Will, which may just be the most understated and effective track on the whole album, since it suits her style perfectly and offers her fans choice to add to their list of favored Tracy Nelson tunes.
Since acquiring my copy last week, I have played this album no less than two dozen times. It gets fresher and more originative with each listen. If you are intimate with Tracy at all, you will not hesitate to acquire this release. If you’re not, I may think of few better introductions to her craft – notably her 1969 classic Country album (Mother Earth Presents Tracy Nelson Country – Mercury Records – available on a Reprise CD) or her 1978 masterwork Homemade Songs (Flying Fish Records – available on a CD also containing her finish second Flying Fish issue, Come See About Me). Try her out soon – you will not be sorry. Submitted June 22, 2003.
10 of 10 people found the following review helpful.
Live From Cell Block D
By jeffnlb
First of all – let’s get one thing straight. Tracy Nelson may do no wrong. That said, this is an unbelievable live album, which was a long time in coming.
I’m sure jokes will be told in regards to singing to a ‘captive’ audience, but it takes a true talent to be capable to get away with singing a song in a jail entitled “Send Me to the ‘Lectric Chair”.
Other highlights are her own “Down So Low” “Tennessee Blues” and “After the Fire is Gone”. Actually, as is unfeigned of each Tracy Nelson album, there is not a bad song in the bunch. Listen to “God Will” or “Mother Earth” and try not to be moved.
Bottom line, buy this CD – you won’t be sorry. And while you’re at it, disseminate the word. Forget in regards to all the flavors of the month – Tracy Nelson is a strength to be reckoned with.
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