5/5 for Dance. This whole album is like one long beautiful dream. A great soundtrack to just get lost in. And I do every time!
Dance Between The Raindrops - 5/5 A couple of points: We all hear things differently; I mean, some of the threads I read on here make me wonder if I’ve passed into an alternate reality – I know that’s where some of my mates think I’ve come from (or would like to send me). I can’t agree with D though about this track. For me, it’s not about Red, it’s about the song / album. Sure, I know when I got the album I was pleased to see Red on there but it’s not vital. I’ve bought the album quite a few times. Originally in the UK it was put out by mail order by ZigZag founder and writer John Tobler. I believe Michael did the same at first in the US. I bought it again when I picked up a couple of copies of the Pacific Arts reissue. The vinyl for both releases was adequate but not great. I paid for the download from Videoranch but it was very disappointing. My own needledrop is of far better quality. The original mix used to be available on one of the streaming sites but again, it was quite dull sounding. I’ve just played the original vinyl and I can tell you that the clip that Turk has posted is no-noised or something similar. Either way, I vote for the original. I do love Red though. I’d pay for a CD of him tuning up in the studio. I’m not well organised but I’ve just found a review of the Victoria Palace gig where Michael debuted Dance Between The Raindrops and Lampost. Still the best gig I’ve ever seen. It topped The Roundhouse but we are talking mighty peaks! This appeared in Melody Maker. If I can find the NME and Sounds reviews I’ll post them, too. Silent Tribute to Nesmith MICHAEL NESMITH’S sole British appearance at the Victoria Palace Theatre, London last Sunday was, at the very least, the most thought provoking concert I've attended in a long time and that's really more a comment on Nesmith’s attitude to performing and his effect on the audience than the actual nature of the man's songs and his performance of them. Nesmith writes haunting, moving love ballads, no doubt about it, but they become almost secondary to the proceedings at his gigs, and anyway, sung without any back up support from even stalwart pedal steel boss Red Rhodes, they aren't of particular musical significance. By his own admission Nesmith's no great shakes as a guitarist and still uses a capo to change key. Thus, it's not the actual performance of his material that we applaud but rather the way in which it back references to our nostalgic associations with superior recorded performances. Plus, of course, we've still got Nesmith’s singing voice, which live or otherwise invariably teeters on the edge of heartbreak, with just the right amount of country conviction. But increasingly, Nesmith's songs become mere illustrations in the flow of a kind of spoken monologue that he delivers with not a little brilliance. And as such, the songs can be treated however the mood suits. Michael doesn't appear to hold his own sensitivity as a writer in any particularly high regard and will casually turn a number like "Some Of Shelly’s Blues into a piece of comic crooning. But as I've indicated, it's what Nesmith says that's crucial. By continually questioning the validity of the performer/paying customer situation he immediately begins to break down barriers that lesser artists don't even acknowledge. When he says: "You really don't have to clap if you don't want to . . . but if you don't feel obliged to clap 1 don’t have to say 'thank you' . . .' you can almost bear virgin minds whirring into action, beginning to question, for the first time such curious convention. The profundity of some of Nesmith's observations regarding consciousness, the state of the universe and linear thought processes is pretty much undeniable, and in itself that's an achievement, for those subjects are generally taboo in the cynical seventies. Importantly, the audience attempts to stay with his philosophizing, how¬ever near the obvious pitfalls of Summer Of Love generalizations he strays. And in itself, I suppose, there's a danger inherent in that situation, replacing a fan / idol relationship with a disciple / guru one, maybe doesn't signify any real progress at all. But that's an area I don't have the courage to enter at this point and all I'm sure about is that the climax of Mike's performance was nothing short of shattering. Nesmith announced that he would play a couple of pieces from his forthcoming sound¬track album, The Prison. ¬These were "Closing Remark” ¬and "Dance Between The Rain¬drops." Michael requested that, just in the interests of an experiment in consciousness, we should not applaud at all, either between songs or at the end of the performance, when he would simply leave the stage and we would just up and file out, silently. He did, and so did we, and the absence of ecstatic cheers say more about Nesmith as an artist than a whole string of routine encores and standing ovations could ever have done. The completely refreshing absence of the usual studied response was the highest compliment the audience could conceivably have paid, a non-token of real respect, if you follow. And, if you don't and that sounds simply like Pseud's Corner jive, all I can say is, you should have been there, pal. STEVE LAKE / MM74
From the NME: Michael Nesmith and the dawn of the infinite Michael Nesmith / Victoria Palace AH, THE WIT and wisdom of Mike Nesmith. It would be unsuitable to judge the special impact of this unusual gig in conventional terms of music criticism. What Nesmith achieved in his hour and a half or so onstage was more of a learning experience and a welding together of the audience than a regular concert. As he put it himself, we weren't there just to be amused, we wanted to come away enriched ‑ and that's what happened. Mike Nesmith's impact is largely centred on his personality as expressed through the music rather than technical wizardry or melodic inventiveness ‑‑ not that he doesn't pen a mean ditty. But the lyrics invariably seem almost more important than the music on his albums, and at a live concert, the songs, while not subordinate to the inter‑song raps, seem an extension of the running conversation he holds with the audience throughout the show. So in describing the gig, it's important to give his philosophies equal weight with the music. Coming onstage to thunderous applause, Nesmith began just talking, in the quietly humorous manner that nobody else has been able to pull off. His anecdotes are genuinely funny ‑ a live album of Nesmith just sitting there talking would be a gem ‑ and flow naturally into the songs, illuminating them enormously. He kicked off with "Joanne", and was cut short by a wave of applause. "Yeah!" beams Mike, "that's a hit! All the rest is junk but that's a hit!" If Nesmith has a myth, that's it. Total lack of recognition, in terms of sales at least acknowledged with beautiful irony. Rarely can a performer have made less effort to look less imposing. Nesmith's image is understated to the point of anonymity. Sitting on a stool, in the classic folkie situation, he was also an ironic comment on the old Val Doonican style of fake intimate chat. What made a mockery of that whole image was the respect Nesmith showed the audience. He had the temerity to use taboo words like concept, God, and love onstage, with a fresh intelligence and seriousness that forced the audience into attention. Eventually he led them, to re‑assess, probably for the first time, the whole situation of being at a concert, and the audience/performer relationship. As the show was getting under way, the absence of Red Rhodes on pedal steel left a rather painful gap. But, just as everyone had hoped, Nesmith's singing and playing grew more assured and complete till he filled the theatre all on his own. First to take off was "Some Of Shelley's Blues" (from "Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash"), perhaps his most popular song. Then, you may find this hard to believe, Nesmith just sat there and casually explained his very lucid views on reality. It sounded oh‑so‑simple. These views led quite naturally into "The Grande Ennui" ' a song about angst and how to acknowledge it. Excellent stuff. His voice acting out the fable without the exaggeration he'd shown earlier on, when he'd felt lost without backing musicians. Mind you, lie did say at one point, rather wistfully, "Over to you, Red” ... and then, "Time for a drum‑break." But Mike was managing nicely on his own, thank you, through a bunch of songs from the "And The Hits Just Keep On Coming‑ album, "Tomorrow And Me", and "Listening", both performed with a rare intelligence and sensitivity. Then followed the central rap of the evening, a foretaste of the fabulous finale to come. Nesmith explained that we, the audience didn't have to clap to express our appreciation. Similarly, he didn't have to say thank you. It was all understood. By that time an extraordinary feeling of communion had been set up, that enabled him to continue talking about why words like God throw people into a state of embarrassment and confusion ("God instantly throws a lotta people into non‑compute"), without making the audience feel that way themselves. This flowed easily into "Harmony Constant", a song dealing with love and infinity in pure, accessible terms. The next topic was thought, and how to control it. Apparently, as they swerve wildly in all directions, pretty much like the way: most of us think. And presto! There was a whole new setting for one of his better-known tunes, "Roll With The Flow". The message encased in that jolly toon is how to handle –“‑the pressure that tried to draw me away from the light ... it's foolish to resist the changes that come into Your everyday life ... just roll with the flow even if it rolls out of here . . ." The chorus, “roll with the flow", had a ringing fullness and assurance. The next stage in the process of the concert was more thoughts about thought. Stand back and examine the way your thoughts move, then lead 'on and in to find out who's doing the examining, and eventually you're bound to find yourself tucked away in there somewhere. The concept brilliantly introduces "The Upside Of Goodbye" about the departure ‑"she left me with a fullness to lean on." How Nesmith managed it all was really extraordinary. The, concert had an internal logic and graceful structure that made the set a complete experience. Every rap explained and made deeper the song following it. Any resistance the audience might have felt to the direction of the gig was foreseen, brought into the discussion, and so eliminated. A Coup. Nesmith's next project is an album and book called ‑‑‑The Prison", designed to be read and listened to in conjunction. The very fact of absorbing two simultaneous concurrent activities, says Nesmith, is a step toward understanding. He said he was going to perform two songs, during which people should close their eyes and see positive for negative sides of problems affecting them. No clapping between numbers, or at the end: "I'm just going to get up and walk out, like leaving a living‑room. I'm tired, goodnight." And that's what happened. Everybody just quietly upped and went home. Bryn Haworth as support act necessarily paled beside but his set was something of a disappointment anyway. While accompanied by some of Britain's finest musicians ‑ Pete Wingfield, keyboards. Dave Mattacks on drums Pat Donaldson on bass. John Porter. guitar. The overall impression was bitty, technically immaculate, but a case of fine talent not gelling, I guess. Songs such as “Get Yourself A Man", and "Let The Days Go By”‑ all sounded perfunctory. Pete Wingfield was the only musician who appeared to feel any enthusiasm for the material and he was excellent. Scoop Goldfarb / NME 74.
And from Sounds,(one of the big four UK weekly music papers): SOTTO VOCE NES “THANK YOU, Thank You, that was a hit you know - all the rest were junk!" said Mike Nesmith after a burst of applause for the first chords of his opening number 'Joanne' but before Mike Nesmith came Bryn Haworth backed up by a one‑off band of Dave Mattacks, John Porter, Pat Donaldson and a very lively Pete Wingfield. Haworth has a serviceable, if hardly distinctive voice and ditto tunes, which he ran through in a loose and enthusiastic manner more like a studio session than a concert. Then came Papa Nes waving in an 'Aw Shucks!' fashion as his arrival onstage was met with rapturous applause. An evening with Mike Nesmith is that thing so many solo performers are billed as but rarely deliver: an intimate occasion where one man invites you to see things his way and brings a bagful of fine songs along to illustrate his point, Last year at the Roundhouse at the end of a heavy day people stopped sliding down the wall and actually got quiet just so they could hear his little raps and sotto voce performance. Same thing at the Victoria Palace: when he hushed you could hear a sparrow fart. His songs are marked by a gentle melancholy and regret: “Oh, the closeness is gone / Still the memory lingers on” goes one off the ironically titled 'And The Hits Just Keep On Coming' album, from which he drew most of his set. And irony in his other key device tempering the tendency to self‑pity in lines like: "I've forgotten how long I've been sitting here/Watching my reflection in a disappearing beer." One thing missing from the set was 0. J. Red Rhodes' sweet steel guitar, as Nesmith acknowledged with an “Ah, Go Red!" where the solo should have been on 'Grand Ennui'. But most of all, between the songs delivered half sung/half spoken, often in a near parody of himself it was the rambling raps about Love, and Consciousness and God that made his set remarkable. His closing two numbers were taken from a new work, 'The Prison' and he asked for and got complete silence before and after them so that the audience was left to watch him pick up his guitar and orange juice bottles and depart in perfect quiet. As someone remarked, it was no way to get an encore but Papa Nes was obviously happier to close with the entire audience making the sound of one hand clapping. Pity he didn't sing 'Propinquity' though. MIKE FLOOD PAGE / SOUNDS74
Dance Between The Raindrops - 4.5/5 This is a very, pleasant song. In some ways it's more perfect with a cup of coffee on a lazy, rainy morning looking out your window. Maybe it could have been a hit with a shortened version on the radio? Oh well - at least some of us diehard fans know of it.
Dance Between the Raindrops is 4/5 One of my favorites. Always have wondered if this song was influenced by the old movie and song, Singin’ In The Rain
But that nice acoustic guitar sound is from the 1990 remix. The original was an electric guitar and what about Red's playing, that's buried in the '74 original?
Maybe it's because the 1990 remix was the version I played upon release and for years, since 1990, and has been my go to mix. When I hear something missing it jars me a bit. Has nothing to do with the song itself. Lyrically and musically it's a perfect song in my book. I really only kept bringing it up because as other's have noted with Nez's work, Red's playing enhanced it. And that pedal steel during Raindrops is so dreamy and cosmic. And definitely barely audible on the original. I'll drop it though. People here love their originals, mono (not with this release) and vinyl no matter what the release and sound. It's all good.
I haven't heard any songs on this album previously, and I really like this one. As said above, it would be shorter as a normal song. I like the relaxed feel. I think it's a well written song with a relaxed melody. It's not out to get you in the jugular, but the guitar figure is memorable. I like the electronic piano too. Even if it's a bit generic. 4/5
I can't edit my post. I didn't know the album was different originally. I listened to the track as per the youtube video earlier in the thread.
“Dance”: 5/5. Really nice. Not a lot else to add that hasn’t been said. Still wish I could easily access the original mix. Enough people have said the Nez needledrop is not worth it, so I’m not going to do that.
Today's song is Elusive Ragings (a version can be heard below around 10 minutes in): Another track that would probably normally be a little shorter, but I think it's a tad less memorable than yesterday's song. It's another strong piece of music though with evocative lyrics. 3.5/5.
Elusive Ragings - A lovely song and melody with excellent instrumentation. The music is nicely fleshed out in the latter remixes, giving it a fuller, more lush sound. 4/5.
"Elusive Ragings" -- 3.5/5 Agreed 100% with Turk that under other circumstances, this song would perhaps be a little too long, and that it doesn't have quite the same impact as "Dance Between The Raindrops", but it is still very enjoyable. That simple bass line that runs through much of it is infectious.
Yes, there's an electric guitar on the '74 mix of "Raindrops", but that's still a 12-string acoustic in the forefront playing the repeated line that propels the song!
I like this one - it's so Nez but the piano reminds of a bit of that slightly out of tune one that the Beach Boys used from, like, Smile through the early '70s. Mike sounds great, regardless. This one's a total 3.5 but I'm gonna give it the benefit of the doubt and round up as it doesn't really sound like anything else in his catalog. 4/5
Meditation / mindfulness in one verse: Outside the winds beat unmercifully hard; Fear creeps like sand in through the cracks. But inside the stillness is consciously formed As false goals and egos relax. Elusive Ragings - 5/5
Here's an interview from the time of his provincial UK tour, promoting The Prison. It appeared in Melody Maker and the interviewer is Allan Jones, future founding editor of Uncut. Nesmith - Prisoner of Love It has always seemed true that those artists of real perception and integrity are the ones who treat the whole of their lives as a sustained experiment, and are prepared to relinquish the security of established artistic virtues in favour of innovation and inquiry. Such an attitude is fundamental to really creative thought and expression and, although it may ensure work of great significance, it often, precipitates obscurity and excludes popular acclaim. Michael Nesmith is an unfortunate example of this predicament. For the last seven years he has been recording music of unique quality and has to date released seven albums, which, in the opinions of his most committed admirers rank among the most adventurous records produced by any contemporary artist working in the rock genre. Nesmith's most recent work is "The Prison," which he has characterised as "a book with a soundtrack." It has been received with critical confusion because of the deeply personal philosophies, which it attempts to express. It is Nesmith's achievement to have presented his thoughts and ideas with clarity and, if the listener is prepared to accept as genuine the author's intentions and respond to the experiment with a compatible enthusiasm, "The Prison" becomes a compelling experience. He is in England at the moment, performing a short series of concerts to promote the work. He has no massive record company campaign behind him, simply because he has no record company right now. “The Prison” has been released by the Pacific Arts Co‑operation, an organisation founded by Nesmith to encourage artistic independence. Both projects are articulately explained by Nesmith, a man of great humour, modesty and intelligence ‑ rare qualities in an artist who has suffered so much through the insensitivity of the rock business. Some suggestion of the kind of thought‑process behind "The Prison" may he illustrated by the following extract from a conversation with Nesmith (it should be said that he appears to entertain in a totally unaffected manner, the concept of the interview as a performance in itself, and is prepared to explain in his work through allusions and stories that verge on mini‑parables.) “If you think, for a moment, of the universe" he says, measuring the tone of his words carefully, “and think of the detail to which the universe attends, without imposing chaos upon this detail ‑‑ I'm talking about the rainfall and the movement of the winds - it becomes clear that we, as a race, evolve by consistently uncovering of these principles, which we call the laws by which our lives operate.” “And what occurs to us as static, or chaos, is simply misunderstood information. The law is not apparent. And this is, to some degree, the kind of problem that arises when we approach improvisation because the thought occurs that improvisation means having no fixed boundaries.” “Yet there is a law of improvisation. There is a certain fixed principle by which it operates, and this isn’t cold or Teutonic or without its compassion or without its love. Because that charity that shines forth operates by a law, and it's the understanding of those two in conjunction with each other that helps you and I to make it through the maze that we call life. But if there is a preponderance, of charity and love, without an understanding of the principle by which these great notions operate, we are left with ministering to the afflicted with comforting words -- and that's about all. When we cast our weight on the side of discipline and law only we see the rise of fascism and we see sterility.” “So we need to move into a mode of consciousness that accommodates the blending or these two ideas. And you have to be very alert, in developing these ideas, that you don't get into a place where one begins to develop a feeling of constriction inside the canopy of discipline, or where one begins to develop licence or immorality outside the canopy of discipline. Rather we should understand that we can gain an enlarged sense of individuality, an enlarged sense of life, instead of either vanishing and being dissolved into a vague infinite, or becoming a single, solitary static notion of perfection.” "The Prison, then, deals with the nature of perception - the method of reading the short story which accompanies the record while simultaneously listening to the music which Nesmith advocates, emphasises this aspect of the experiment - and the illusions of constraint which we create and which restrict our capacity for continual growth, movement and understanding.” "The notion had been occurring to me over many years," Nesmith observes explaining the genesis of the piece, "although. l never really thought of It as a notion 1 could really make work. It developed as 1 would read books, and contemplate the movie that plays out in the mind's eye as you read -- which is really the most entertaining part of the book.” “My wife gave me the notion of the prison. The prison is a wonderful symbol; it's an extraordinary model of man's cruelty. It also carries with it grave fears. It's probably second only to being handicapped in many people's eyes, in terms of fear. Death is a different fear, because it's inevitable. The fear of prison is more terrible because it has connotations of claustrophobia and being totally enclosed.” "That was the essence of 'The Prison'. I had the beginnings of a story and seven songs, which seemed to cross talk. I thought, maybe what I've written here is an actual movie. I took it to a screenwriter and he said, “you have something here which doesn't exist. It's not a movie. What you have is basically a book with a soundtrack. It's worthless.”” However, having established the identity and nature of `The Prison," there came the problem of communicating the thoughts and music to an audience. As he says, the record industry is based not on thought but on the absence of it," and has proven itself unwilling an unable to contain work which is to any large extent innovatory or experimental. It was this consideration, which led to the Pacific Arts Corporation, which is still in its infancy. Allan Jones
Elusive Ragings 5/5 Love that bass line. The song(s) length are based on what's going on in the story. Very evident when we get to track 6. Thanks for all the great reviews @DaveJ !
