Joe South – Introspect (EMI E-T 108) (1968)

Is that Alice Liddel and her cerebral cortex?

I’d just this week been looking something else up in my Rolling Stone Record Guide and happened to note the glowing Joe South entry, so when I found the songwriter/guitarist’s genre-hopping, ground-breaking début Lp in mono this Wednesday, I leapt. While certainly no masterpiece, Introspect is quirky and bold on many levels and the copious period touches (Dylan-style put downs, counter-culture redneck-baiting, rambling reprises, electronic psychedelic breakdowns, boogaloo beats, allusions to the Draft, extensive sitar guitar use [!] and songs called “Mirror of Your Mind”) make this a challenging, engaging and very 60s time capsule. A pop country-soul crossover version of Billy Nicholl’s Would You Believe perhaps?

South’s vocals swagger like Elvis P, his lyrics contain sly twists and not a few clichés, the man’s somewhat uneven production still manages to push boundaries; surprisingly, given his track record as a top flight session guy (Dylan, Aretha, etc.), it’s the musicianship (esp. the drumming) not keeping up with the production ambitions that ultimately keeps Introspect from being a classic. “Games People Play” was the hit.

Tom Jones – Green, Green Grass of Home (Decca LK 4855 Mono) (1967)

In Mount Vernon, Ohio and it’s surroundings there were several member’s only drinking and gaming clubs.  These were often named for animals, e.g. the Elks Club, F.O.E. (Federal Order of Eagles), etc. A few blocks from my house, on the west end of the city, was the “Black” Elks Club; this was a place where the area’s African-Americans would gather.  Whenever I’d visit, my dad and I would be the only caucasians about and while I was aware of this fact at the time, I merely thought it was interesting. I was certainly always made to feel welcome. Most of the music at the Black Elks was made by black people, but the exception was Tom Jones and listening to this album, I can see how Jones was able to make inroads into the market.  His phrasing and timbre, at least at this stage in career, was not dissimilar to Levi Stubbs, his overtly stylised sexiness was quite urban and perhaps, as a proud, resentful minority citizen of his own country, Jones has a connection deeper to America’s blacks than, say, dilettantes and poseurs from Liverpool and London.

A mix of credible bellowed pop country (“He’ll Have to Go”, “Riders In the Sky”) on side one and credible bellowed proto-power balladry (“A Field of Yellow Daisies”, “[I Wish I Could] Say No To You”) and credible bellowed funk soul (“Ring of Fire” “Mohair Sam”) on side two, this was Tom Jones’ sixth album in two years. That’s how we rolled back in the day, y’see. A surprisingly enjoyable record.

I think this would have made a much better front cover.