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pupuplatters · 6 years ago

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DANNY KIRWAN :: Second Chapter ~ 8.7 | Midnight in San Juan ~ 8.0 | Hello There Big Boy! ~ 4.5

DJM | DJLPA-1

DJM | DJF 20481

DJM | DJM-22

Even before Danny Kirwan passed away, I thought about reviewing his albums because I consider them to be obscure gems. Now seems like a good time to pay tribute to a musician who always seemed to be unfairly overshadowed. Although Danny was never a prolific lyricist, his melodies stick in your head and his songs were always a cut above thanks to the unique touch of his guitar playing and the magical mojo that Fleetwood Mac laid down on albums such as Future Games and Bare Trees. "Sands of Time," "Tell Me All the Things You Do," and "Bare Trees" are perfect studies in economical songwriting, and Danny also excelled at heartbreakingly beautiful instrumentals, as "My Dream," "Earl Gray," and "Sunny Side of Heaven" prove. He was able to establish an atmosphere with music like no other.

Danny's solo albums are a natural continuation of where he left off in Fleetwood Mac, dropping the emphasis on the hot bluesy guitar solos of early Mac and honing the streamlined pop he began to explore before leaving the band. Second Chapter is a carefree romp and marks the beginning of what should have been a more fruitful era in Danny's career. His guitar is never really showcased as it was in Mac: it's typically low in the mix, and solos are brief. A struggle between pursuing what he was incredibly gifted at and not wanting to be a "rock star" is apparent. Second Chapter is certainly his most musically diverse solo album; a lot of colors are thrown at the wall and they all blend well together. One thing that strikes me about this era is a lyrical shift towards nature: water, fish, birds, rainbows, and seasons are all observed in the lyrics. The album cover is overflowing with grass and blooming flowers. Clearly Danny was inspired by the world around him, but this new focus also hints at isolation. As the title and album artwork suggest, Second Chapter is a bit of a story through different vignettes of love, and his affection for the natural world seems to win over interpersonal affairs as the album’s second half turns more quiet and inward. The soupy production is Spector-ish with soothing strings, honking horns, ragtime pianos, and down home banjos creating a garden in springtime where the listener's mind is free to wander. A tasty lead fiddle welcomes you to a great big hoedown in the opener "Ram Jam City,” a song that contains the spark that makes Kirwan’s best songs so magical. As it unfolds, Danny playfully chases a frisky filly while guitar and fiddle dance with percussion that sounds like horses clomping in time. The joy of the moment can almost be touched as a choir of harmonized aahs leads the parade home. I don’t think Danny sounded so exuberant before or after. It’s a magnificent production, courtesy of Martin Rushent. The playfulness continues with some wonderfully weird scat singing punctuating the vaudevillian "Odds and Ends," a quick little snapshot of an eccentric junk shop. "Skip a Dee Doo" contains some fine country guitar pickin' during the break and strengthens the case for Danny's versatility (see also "Sometimes" from Future Games). The title track is a very British-sounding easy rocker that Al Stewart could have brought to the Top 20. “Lovely Days” and “Silver Streams” both showcase Danny’s skill with gentle, folk-influenced ballads. I'm not sure why "Best Girl in the World" was omitted from the US pressing of the album (the version I grew up with), but it’s a bit of a trifle and removing it from the record accentuates the attention toward nature. "Cascades" contains a gorgeous weave of acoustic, lead electric, and what sounds like a baritone guitar with a lyric in the chorus that suggests loneliness, a theme that would continue on the next albums. I've always wondered about the strange oscillating panning on "Hot Summer Day" and a couple other cuts. It sounds like someone's kid snuck into the control room and started turning knobs without anyone noticing. The production borders on overkill (one or two less string arrangements would be nice), but Second Chapter is the strongest representation of Danny standing tall as a solo artist. Released in 2000, Ram Jam City collects raw mixes and alternate takes from the Second Chapter era. For fans, it's a real treat to listen to, containing false starts, clearer vocal harmonies, and instrumental parts that didn't make the album. The CD presents its title track in two different forms and confirms its status as a brilliant little nugget. The instrumental version sounds just as good as the album cut, and the second version sounds like an alternate mix of the original recording at the correct speed, a touch slower and less manic than what appeared on the record.

Midnight in San Juan is Danny's best sounding solo album: bright, natural, and uncluttered. Other than the occasional bongo and keyboard, the instrumentation is strictly drums, bass, and guitar. It's a bit looser too: you can hear Danny count off in a song, and in another, it sounds like he's humming to himself. The quality of the material is not far from its predecessor, but the lack of any bells and whistles shines a light on the lyrical thinness of the songs. The sonic cleanness of the breezy opener "I Can Tell" is as refreshing as its numerous hooks, and Danny harmonizing with himself on the vocal is wonderful to hear. It may be his attempt to write his own “Take It Easy.” "Life Machine" evokes a heavy, late '60s psych vibe, while "Rolling Hills" and the title track continue the haunting mood of Kirwan's Mac-era instrumentals, although they aren't quite as impactful. The latter sounds like funky movie music with some very '70s synths as the focal point. His reggae cover of "Let It Be" is OK and confirms his McCartney influence, but I would have preferred a Danny song. It happens to be in the same position in the track listing as Second Chapter's "Mary Jane," another reggae exercise that is superior to my ears. The gently swinging waltz "Angel's Delight" is truly a delight, containing some essential Kirwan poetry and beautiful interplay between bass and lush guitar in the instrumental breaks. The introspective "Misty River" opens with an acoustic guitar playing the melody, but oddly, synth takes over for the solo section. Although Danny didn't seem to want the spotlight, he still made all the pieces fit. The remaining songs are generally strong, but I get the sense that Danny went on autopilot at this point. The balloon of inspiration lost some air. The outro of "I Can't Let You Go" contains some of Danny's final hints of lead guitar brilliance on record and the track fades far too quickly. He seems to be on even footing for the duration of the album, but the hallucinogenic closer "Castaway" veers off the course. I've always found this track to be disturbing and its placement on the album metaphorical, a tumble off of the wagon after a period of stability. A creepy droning synth is featured heavily, and Danny's almost freaky guitar vibrato is used to maximum effect. Tension builds as the beat goes to double time before skidding into a manic refrain: its screaming guitar part and confrontational vocal sound like a genuine descent into madness. The song may have been intended as an official sign-off by Danny. It certainly feels like it, even though he owed DJM one more record.

Midnight in San Juan was released as Danny Kirwan in the States, and this version of the album contains some thoughtful liner notes by Richard Hogan. An excerpt:

A consummate pop craftsman, Danny couples layers of instruments with poetic conceits depicting the magic of a world many are too busy or jaded to notice. His new songs couple spring-clean the airwaves - you forget you're indoors when you're listening to them. Shafts of sunlight, forest creatures, romantic encounters surface and re-surface as emblems of hope on the singer's horizon. But the nature imagery isn't artificial, doesn't become frozen in a still-life tableau - rains fall, winds blow as if Kirwan knows he has no control over the things he finds idyllic.

1979 was a weird time for the Fleetwood Mac family. Tusk was a brave double-disc curveball from the corporate headquarters. Jeremy Spencer went hippie disco-folk on his album Flee. Bob Welch tried sparse new wave on The Other One. According to various reports (including an anecdote in Mick Fleetwood's autobiography), Danny Kirwan was homeless. His last album, Hello There Big Boy!, is an unintentional portrait of mental illness. He doesn't look well on the album sleeve, and the record itself seems to represent giving up: side 2 is rather brief and just sputters and dies at the end. Danny musters all the emotion that he can, but he seems detached and less focused. The record contains only four new Kirwan compositions. Producer Clifford Davis was likely the mastermind of the album's vibe: a more straightforward, smooth late '70s sound with background singers, electric piano, and the occasional string arrangement. The backstory of Danny's struggle is hard to ignore and makes the album an uncomfortable listen, but I treasure its highlights. "Wings of a Dove" is signature Kirwan, deceptively simple (only one verse and chorus, repeated) but completely enchanting. Even at a low point, he was capable of magic. Equally intriguing, "Spaceman" cruises in a similar vein and sounds like it was written and recorded in the same session. Danny's hope circles the drain in "Caroline," a painful dirge about a failed relationship (reportedly, his marriage) that's oddly followed by a goopy ballad that opens with "You are the one who makes me happy." Continuing the awkward track sequencing, "You" is followed by "Only You," a high-octane blues-rocker from the Fleetwood Mac days that's given the neutered yacht rock treatment here with wah guitar and Vegas horns. Compared to the fire of the original and lacking the killer guitar hook it contained in the refrain, it falls rather flat and was a poor choice for a single. I wonder if recording the song was suggested by Danny or a tactic by Clifford Davis to keep Kirwan engaged in the album. Hello There Big Boy! is rounded out by material from a few of the musicians who played on the album. The best of the outside material is probably "End Up Crying," a convincing lite rocker that would have had a decent chance on the radio. For me, the highlight of "Gettin' the Feelin'" is the very obvious bass guitar bobble at the top of the 2nd chorus. "California" is a simple little ditty contributed by Clifford Davis and vocalist Dana Gillespie. That's an odd collaboration. When Gillespie made her vocal contributions to the album, Davis could have asked her if she had any song ideas because he was so starved for material, and they may have patched "California" together on the spot. A rather lovely homage to the Beach Boys, "Summer Days and Summer Nights" is a duet with Gillespie and it concludes the record somewhat strangely. At the close of the song, Danny ends his vocal phrases quickly, as if he was dying to get out of the studio. The final repeated line "Now it's time to say goodbye to the magic in your eyes" makes the album's finale (and the end of Kirwan's career) that much more sad. It would have been nice to have Christine McVie instead of Gillespie on the track to provide some closure and give the album a bump in exposure, but at this point, it may have done more harm than good. It seems Kirwan wasn't equipped to deal with fame, and unfortunately, it either caused or irritated his personal problems. Clifford Davis claimed to have utilized 87 musicians to get the album done, but the credits list only one rhythm section with several additional musicians on vocals, guitar, and keys. I have to think that it's a fairy tale because he has been quoted as not liking the album and it makes for a funny story in that context (unless he was referring to string players who are heard on several tracks), but it's worth noting that his own work on the project didn't exactly elevate it. The mix at the beginning of "You" is head-scratchingly bad, and several production choices on the album are highly questionable. The album is such a far cry from the euphoria of "Ram Jam City," which kicked off Kirwan's solo era with great promise only four years earlier. After his third solo album, it was clear that Danny was not coming back. I was very sad when I heard that Danny Kirwan passed away. It was odd to see the online articles about a seemingly sensitive and private man who hadn't been heard from in decades alongside the shallow media fodder of today. I'll always remember many years ago when my dad and I were driving around my hometown in December looking for a Christmas tree with my cassette dub of Danny's music providing the soundtrack; around the same time, being complimented on my developing drumming skills as I played along to "Midnight in San Juan"; a bit later, being thrilled about hearing some true rarities on Ram Jam City. My record collection has experienced quite a bit of turnover through the years, but I've never considered parting with my Danny albums (including my highly treasured test pressing of Hello There Big Boy!). Everyone holds certain artists in high esteem because their music means so much more than a faceless tune you whistle along to in the car, and Kirwan is one of a few of those top-shelf musicians for me. To this day, I consider his body of work to be very underrated, but thanks to being part of one of the most popular bands in history, his obscure solo work will be in a good position to be found and loved by curious fans.

July 5, 2018

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