Joe Cocker, Mad Dogs And Englishmen (1970)
You know I’ve seen Joe Cocker live more than any other international touring act. He comes to NZ a lot – and I have the job of seeing him (as a reviewer). And he’s always different. And he’s always the same. And though he’s more a cabaret act now than the sweaty, vital rock’n’roll/soul animal that killed it from Woodstock on through the early 70s he’s still got something. And usually that something is a killer-good band. Well, that’s part of the something. But this – this is just the business. Overblown and wonderful, this album is (still) a revelation. I grew up with Cocker’s music – just Greatest Hits stuff – and I never heard this album in its entirety until the 35th anniversary CD reissue. But I was a fan of the first couple of studio albums – great, great singer; shit-hot band/s. Strong material. The greatest rock’n’roll and soul and pop covers artist when he was at the height of his game – and still capable of doing a good show now, long gone, long past the prime. But this really is the height of his game. This is visceral. This is magical. I’ve only owned the LP for a few days – I kept it on hold at the shop for ages though; knew I had to (one day) get it. Man it’s great. It’s fucking great.
Sample Track: The Letter
The Vinyl Countdown is a document of every LP I listen to, brand new discoveries and old-old favourites; extremely pre-loved, previously abandoned or with the shrink-wrap having just been removed it’s all here at The Vinyl Countdown