Arachnophonia: Janis Joplin

Editor’s note: Arachnophonia (“Arachno” = spider / “-phonia” = sound) is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item(s) in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student manager Amy (class of 2025) and features two CDs featuring music by Janis Joplin (1943-1970). Thanks, Amy!

Janis JoplinPearl and Greatest Hits

Janis Joplin - Pearl (1971) album cover

As a girl whose father crafted her music taste, you would think my favorites would be The Beatles or The Eagles, Jimi Hendrix, or even Led Zeppelin. Instead, my father decided to raise a young girl who only listened to melodramatic psychedelic rock music like Janis Joplin.

Sitting in the back of my dad’s car, he slipped his Pearl CD into the player and told me, “This is what good music is, so, listen closely.”

The raspy and powerful voice of Janis shook my world, and I couldn’t get enough. We listened to the entire album and I knew Janis was the perfect artist for me. I even started dressing like her. I had just gotten glasses and was admittedly embarrassed, but once I saw the funky big frames Janis had, I got myself a pair and didn’t feel as worried about how I looked.

The last song my dad showed me was “Mercedez Benz.” The song was a stark difference from everything else on the album-it seemed more casual, and it was a cappella; every other song had a backing band.

After the song was over, my dad told me the horrid news: Janis died of a heroin overdose three days after this first and only recording of “Mercedez Benz.” Three months after her death, her album Pearl was released, her second solo album.

Despite the unfinished nature of the album, it does not even begin to sound that way. Her confidence and remarkable songwriting skills take her far in the album.

The opening of the album “Move Over” is a funky welcome to the album but fits the band (the Full Tilt Boogie Band) and Janis well. The song may be about a breakup but it’s also a song of female empowerment, she’s taking back the reins of her own romantic life.

One of my other favorites on this album is “Cry Baby.” It’s dramatic and passionate and just shows off her voice so well. The song is loud and head-banging at times, but it’s also sorrowful. That’s the power of Janis, she may be the queen of rock, but she’s also the queen of the blues.

Pearl and Janis Joplin’s Greatest Hits are both available as CDs in Parsons Music Library. I highly recommend picking up both as her Greatest Hits also includes music from her first two albums with Big Brother & The Holding Company.

Janis Joplin's Greatest Hits - Album cover

Arachnophonia: John Mayer “Born and Raised”

Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker Elias (class of 2021) and features John Mayer’s 2012 studio album Born and Raised. Thanks, Elias!

John Mayer

Born and Raised

John Mayer - Born and Raised

John Mayer, the egotistical, narcissistic, prodigious, reformed paradox of a musician is by far my favorite artist of all time. When people think of John Mayer, they typically think of him for one of two things: his iconic love songs or TMZ headlines articulating exactly how he broke Katy Perry’s/Taylor Swift’s/Kim Kardashian’s/Jennifer Anniston’s heart. Either way, I rarely see people appreciating his musical talent or his raw songwriting genius. There’s a reason Eric Clapton calls him a “master” guitarist. And for me, there’s no better example of this mastery than on his fifth studio album, Born and Raised.

You wouldn’t guess it at first, Mayer often speaks in interviews about how his favorite type of music to write is blues. You get hints of this on sprinkled across his other hit albums, but Born and Raised is his real tribute to this passion. From first looking at the album art, it becomes apparent that this is no ordinary album from hit-machine John. There’s no photo of Mayer trying to seem like he doesn’t know his picture is being taken, and no angsty black and white filter over the whole image. No, Born and Raised sports old-fashioned text intertwined with clockwork, adorned with phrases such as “Music by John Mayer” and “Stereo Recorded Sound.” No glitz or glam, no profile shots algorithmically calculated to get girls to pick up the tape. Just the title, and a little style to set the tone.

ohn-Mayer-Born-and-Raised

Now, the music. The tracks on this album are slow, gentle folk songs, with a Mayeresque vibe to them. It opens with “Queen of California,” as Mayer immediately flexes his technical muscles with a flowing, articulated, methodical guitar riff cover almost the entire length of the song. It almost sounds like “Why Georgia” at first, but the album’s themes sink in after a spell. A gentle, clean electric guitar accents the track with smooth bends which work alongside Mayer’s voice to keep you interested.

Another highlight of the album comes with the fifth track, “Something Like Olivia.” If you’re still questioning Mayer’s prowess on the guitar, just watch the music video on YouTube. The fact that he can keep this riff going effortlessly whilst singing is beyond me, and the studio version certainly displays his mastery well. The lyrics are repetitive yet meaningful, and the chorus is easy to sing along to. “Something Like Olivia” is about a girl, but it’s not a love song. It’s a jam.

Finally, we have the title track. “Born and Raised” is deservingly named after the album (or… vice versa?), as the simple chord progression leaves Mayer’s voice at the forefront. A harmonica finishes out each chorus in lieu of a guitar solo, an ode to the unique blues/country rock theme of this album. Lyrically, “Born and Raised” is a strong track, telling the story of how he feels that life has passed him by, and how he no longer feels like he has dreams to work towards: “I still have dreams, they’re not the same/They don’t fly as high as they used to/I saw my friend, he’s in my head/And he said, ‘You don’t remember me do you?’”

As a whole, Born and Raised is a break from Mayer’s routine, and it feels like the first album he made more for himself than for the public. It’s not a collection of hits, and it’s not a collection of his best guitar playing. It’s a collection of jams, and though he would continue his adventure into Americana with his next album, Paradise Valley, it was a testament to the kind of music Mayer wanted to make. If nothing else, it’s a collection of good songs, and an album I think everyone should listen to.

Arachnophonia: The Allman Brothers Band: At Fillmore East

Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker AJ (class of 2019) and features a live recording of the Allman Brothers Band at the Fillmore East. Thanks, AJ!

The Allman Brothers Band

At Fillmore East

Allman Brothers Band - At Fillmore East

When I was 12 years old, my mother took me to my first concert. My love for music had become exceedingly apparent to my parents, and they figured that 12 years old was an appropriate age to expose me to live music.

My mother is a huge classic rock fan, so growing up I was fed a strict diet of Fleetwood Mac, Rolling Stones, Beatles, and other such legendary bands. However, my favorite band growing up was The Allman Brothers. Gregg Allman’s lyrics and Duane Allman’s guitar (later Dickey Betts’ guitar) constantly played over our car’s sound system during rides short and long. They were coming to our area around my birthday, so my mother decided to get us tickets. Now, although the members were in their old age, and weren’t in their prime anymore, I still believe that to this day it was one of the best concerts I have ever been to.

allman-brothers-band-1971

The Allman Brothers Band circa 1971 – Butch Trucks, Gregg Allman, Berry Oakley, Jaimoe Johanson, & Dickey Betts (L-R)

I wish I had a recording of the night, but unfortunately they weren’t taping this particular concert. The Music Library, however, has The Allman Brothers Band at Fillmore East on CD. A CD that I believe my mother and I listen to quite frequently on trips. There’s nothing better than live music, and nothing better than The Allman Brothers live; I highly recommend listening to this particular recording because it ends with two of my absolute favorite Allman Brothers songs: “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” and “Whipping Post.”

“In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” is the first instrumental track the Allman Brothers Band wrote. It was written by Dickey Betts who dedicated it to a woman with whom he had had an affair with after she had passed away. This woman was actually Boz Scaggs’ girlfriend, but Dickey changed the name to keep their tryst a secret. Fun fact: the woman is buried in the same graveyard where Duane Allman is buried, and Dickey frequently visited to pay his respects and to write songs. He lifted the name “Elizabeth Reed” from a tombstone near where he used to write.

“Whipping Post” is a hard-hitting, in your face rock song about the torment of being in love with a woman who doesn’t love you back, even when you bend over backwards for her. Its powerful lyrics and driving rhythm really foreshadowed the Allman Brothers’ future success, as “Whipping Post” was one of the first songs written by the band. The song itself is actually quite difficult to play because the track is written in 11/4. Gregg Allman, who didn’t know how to read sheet music at first, had to ask Duane how to count it because he thought the rhythm felt wrong (rightfully so).