What's Old Is New To Me

We've officially entered List Season. For the next 30 to 60 days, every music magazine you read, every music program you listen to or watch and every Web site you visit will be featuring some sort of list featuring the best of 2006. HickoryWind is no exception; on Jan. 2, we'll be bringing you our first official Top 10 Albums list. Then, for 10 consecutive business days after that unveiling, each of the contributors will in turn present their choices for the year's best. That's 11 lists on this site alone. We'll all be listed out by the time the last of the Christmas leftovers are picked clean, but that's not going to keep me from adding one more to the heap. It's a best of 2006 of sorts. It's the 10 best albums released prior to 2006 that came to my attention this year. Some of you probably won't believe that I hadn't heard a couple of them, but I have to share just in case they're new to you, too. In ascending order, my 10 favorite discoveries from this year:

10. "Saw Mill Man," Cast King (2005) – Tower Records' liquidation provided the perfect avenue for this discovery, and it also gave me a rare dispensation while on my annual CD moratorium. After all, they're only going out of business once. It's too late for the venerable retail chain, but not for King, who recorded a few tracks for Sun back in the day but released his proper debut last year at age 79. I had read a few blurbs about this disc and King, who hails from Old Sand Mountain, Ala., and I was eager to check it out. Fifty-percent off sealed the deal. It compares pretty favorably to Johnny Cash's "American Recordings" in that it's good, stripped-down country music played by a septuagenarian with little accompaniment. The atmosphere is intimate, as if you are right in the room with King and hearing some history of Old Sand Mountain from a guy who lived it.

9. "Any Old Time," Steve Forbert (2002) – Six of the 10 albums on this list were recommended to me by my music buddy Dalton Fleming, who has clued me in on many, many more than the handful that I'm writing about today. Granted, I should have looked into Forbert long before now, if for no other reason than I'm interested in all guys with guitars that have been anointed "New Dylans" over the years. I just never got around to it, and didn't feel much pressure to do so; he had his biggest hit, "Romeo's Tune," in 1980, when I was 10. I'm not making a connection between chart position and artistry; I'm simply saying that Forbert was out of the limelight and on the back burner as far as my CD shopping was concerned. Plus, it always helps to have a recommendation. Dalton's seal of approval is usually enough, but it helped that this disc was a tribute to the father of country music, Jimmie Rodgers. Rodgers and Forbert both hail from Meridian, Miss., but the similarities pretty much end there. Rodgers, of course, was The Blue Yodeler. Forbert sings in a gravelly baritone. He also, with the help of producer Gary Tallent of E Street Band fame, changed the arrangements and even went electric at times. As a result, "My Rough and Rowdy Ways" serves not only as a tribute to Rodgers but as a tribute of sorts to Buddy Holly, whose "Peggy Sue" and "Oh Boy" (and other tunes) are clearly echoed in the arrangement.

8. "You Never Know Who's Going to Love You the Best," Karen Dalton (1969) – This one is a dual discovery. Dalton (my friend) heard Dalton (the '60s folkie) on a Mojo magazine sampler titled "The Roots of Bob Dylan" that rounded up artists who had influenced Dylan. Like all good music buddies, he gauged my interest and passed it on. Dalton (the singer/guitarist/banjoist) was a friend of Dylan's, and a fellow performer during the folk revival in New York, but she wasn't nearly as prolific. This album, her debut and one of only two LPs, wasn't released until 1969, and she didn't write her own material. She was an interesting performer, though, with a voice that sounded like Billie Holiday but rougher and twangier. (Another singer whose voice resembles Lady Day's, Madeleine Peyroux, is becoming wildly popular, but there's still plenty of room on this bandwagon).

7. "Blue Country Heart," Jorma Kaukonen (2002) – Kaukonen isn't new to me; even if I wasn't familiar with Jefferson Airplane or Hot Tuna, I've been to Merlefest, where he is a regular. This album was a revelation, though. The selection of old country tunes is great, including "Blue Railroad Train," "Blues Stay Away From Me" and "Waiting For a Train." The clincher is the backing band: Sam Bush on mandolin, Jerry Douglas on dobro, Byron House on bass and Bela Fleck on banjo. Put that crew behind any accomplished guitarist and you're likely to get my attention. Collectively, they make "Blue Country Heart" sound like a back-porch jam, albeit one with mind-boggling skills on display.

6. "Pickin' Up the Pieces/Deliverin'," Poco (1969/1971) – In the past several years I've been trying to dig deeper into the origins of country-rock, hoping to get a fuller picture of its development instead of relying on the oft-repeated stories about who the genre's godfathers were. Either I haven't read enough, or I haven't been reading the right books, because it doesn't seem like Poco gets enough credit for its contributions. Their debut, "Pickin' Up the Pieces," is a terrific link between Buffalo Springfield and The Flying Burrito Brothers. (Little surprise, I guess, since Richie Furay and Jim Messina were members of Buffalo Springfield). "Pieces" and the live "Deliverin'" also make one thing abundantly clear: Messina is a damn good guitarist, which I've never heard anybody say to me before. And I can't believe how great the acoustic guitars sound on "Deliverin'." That was 35 years ago, and the guitar sound is tremendous. A lot of you are probably wondering what took me so long. I'm just glad to finally be in the club.

5. "Hittin' the Note," The Allman Brothers (2003) – Before a call goes out for my resignation from HickoryWind (probably started by our native Georgian, Stacy Chandler), I'm thoroughly familiar with The Allmans. In fact, back at the dawn of the CD Era – when dudes were coming into the record store where I worked and buying "Led Zeppelin II" on disc before they even owned CD players – I made "At Fillmore East" my fourth or fifth CD purchase (I did own a player). I've always been a big fan. But when they kicked Dickey Betts out of the band, that was kind of the last straw for me (and I guess for them, where Betts was concerned). I was skeptical of a lineup that didn't include either of the original guitarists. No offense to Warren Haynes or Derek Trucks, who both are fine players. Dalton assured me that this disc compared favorably to the classic Allmans material. Damn if it didn't. Haynes and Trucks have the vintage Betts-Duane Allman harmony guitar parts down cold. There's even a killer cover of the Rolling Stones' "Heart of Stone." If you are leery of a Betts-free band, let me be the first to recommend "Hittin' the Note" to you.

4. "Memorial Album," Clifford Brown (1956) – The jazz trumpeter's name was one that I had read from time to time in music magazines, but my interest wasn't truly piqued until I read an article in the Washington Post about the 50th anniversary of Brown's death in a car crash after a gig on June 26, 1956. The death of a historically important musician who isn't represented in my record collection usually is reason enough for me to head to the record store. In this case, though, as with most matters regarding jazz, I needed one more recommendation. Fortunately, my on-call jazz aficionado, Chris Six, is a co-worker. "Brownie," Chris informed me, was already a giant and was destined for even greater things if his life hadn't been cut so short (25). Even so, he's still one of the best ever. Coming from a horn player such as Six, that was good enough for me. I don't have the refined ears of a jazz cat, but the up-tempo stuff smokes and the ballads smolder. The wife and I already have added a few more Brown titles to the library. We haven't yet picked up Chris' initial recommendation, "Clifford Brown With Strings," but it's pretty high on the wish list. I also wish for enough confidence one day to actually refer to him as "Brownie" in conversation.

3. "The Complete Goldwax Singles," James Carr (2001) – Another name often read but never explored until this year. It became a higher priority after hearing Dan Penn introduce his classic "Dark End of the Street" on the "Moments From This Theatre" CD by saying, "Everybody keeps asking me what's my favorite version of 'Dark End of the Street' as if there was any other than James Carr's." Of course, finding a James Carr disc in a record store can be difficult at best. Finding a record store is getting pretty tough. Solving both problems was as easy as visiting Barry Friedman at his shop, Birdland Records, in Virginia Beach. The first track on this British compilation revealed what Penn was talking about. I'd heard The Flying Burrito Brothers' version of "Dark End," but Carr completely owned this song. Shortly after acquiring this disc, I heard Bob Dylan play another of the cuts from it, "Pouring Water on a Drowning Man," on his "Theme Time Radio Hour." The rest of this disc, 28 tracks total, is a treasure chest of powerful Sixties soul – strong beats, stinging guitar parts, hummable horn lines and raw emotion pouring from the singer's pipes. If you like Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett, you're in for a real treat with James Carr.

2. "Nashville West," Nashville West (1976) – Talk about the foundations of country-rock. The sound quality of this disc isn't great (though surprisingly good for a 1967 club show), but the electric guitar work by Clarence White is amazing. And he's doing it without the famous Parsons-White string bender, which later allowed him to create pedal steel-like licks on his Fender Telecaster. White is well-known for his acoustic flatpicking with the Kentucky Colonels (he's still Tony Rice's hero), and he played on The Byrds' landmark album "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" before later becoming a full-time member of the band along with Nashville West drummer Gene Parsons (no relation to Gram). White was tragically struck and killed by a drunk driver in 1973, but he left behind a style that not only holds up today but sounds downright scary when you realize that he was laying down some of these licks nearly 30 years ago.

1. "New Train," Paul Pena (2000) – This album was discovered after the fact for most people, if they've found it at all. It was recorded in 1973, but mismanagement kept it from being released for 27 years. I might never have stumbled onto it if Dalton hadn't thought it was something I would be interested in hearing. Was I ever. Pena, a blind, soulful singer-songwriter who was born in Massachusetts but settled into the San Francisco music scene, wrote the song "Jet Airliner," which you probably know as a huge hit for the Steve Miller Band. Miller got it from a member of his band, Ben Sidran, who produced "New Train." Miller guessed correctly as to the hit potential for "Jet Airliner." If only he had been involved in the release of this album, on which the original appears. If "New Train" hadn't languished in storage for nearly three decades, Pena might have achieved some measure of Miller's stardom as well. Listening to this disc, it's easy to imagine. "Cosmic Mirror" features funky washes of wah-wah guitar that echo Jimi Hendrix's "Hear My Train a-Comin'." "Venutian Lady" is a dead ringer for "American Beauty"-era Grateful Dead, from whom Pena sometimes opened. The resemblance isn't much of a surprise, given that Jerry Garcia contributed pedal steel and Garcia cohort Merle Saunders played keyboards on the track. If a fraction of the Hendrix and Grateful Dead fans in 1973 had bought this disc, Pena would have stood a chance of becoming a household name. Track after track stands as an example of why he should have gotten that chance. From the uplifting opener, "Gonna Move," to the pedal-steel-flavored gospel of the title track, "New Train" bears the mark of craftsmanship. The album is an eclectic mix of styles including gospel, country, soul, R&B and rock. His version of "Jet Airliner" is much more soulful than Miller's, and features sweet string bending in the guitar solo. At least Pena earned a little coin from Miller's cover, which went to No. 8 in 1977. Those of you who follow documentaries might know Pena from the film "Genghis Blues," which follows the self-taught Tuvan throat singer to a contest in Tuva. He won his division, and a measure of acclaim. "New Train" is Exhibit A in the case that he deserved much, much more. A quick check of Amazon.com last night revealed that this disc could be had for the bargain price of $10.99. Furthermore, used copies started at $6.99, which is like stealing it. Pena died in 2004, but he left behind a significant reminder of his artistry.