Bill Withers
  + 'Justments
  3.5 out of 5 stars
  Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson

Bill Withers was a sincere songwriter without filters who breathed life into his semi-autobiographical characters, such as his sanctimonious grandmother ("Grandma's Hands"), shysters posing as pious men ("Harlem"), cozy acquaintances ("Kissing My Love") and hopeless love affairs ("Let Me Into Your Life").

Withers served in the Navy, moving onto an inglorious career building airplane toilet seats on an assembly line before launching his music career at the ripe age of 33. His first album, 1971's "Just As I Am," produced by Booker T. Jones, featured "Grandma's Hands" and the intense # 3 hit "Ain't No Sunshine." His second album, "Still Bill" was his most successful, yielding a #2 hit in the bossa nova inspired "Use Me," and a #1 in "Lean on Me," his ode to brotherhood.

His third album, "Live at Carnegie Hall," was a gritty celebration of an artist re-shaping his songs in front of an appreciative audience. Withers seemed perched on the precipice of singer/songwriter immortality when his fourth album "+ 'Justments" was released in 1974. But it wasn't to be. "+ 'Justments" didn't yield any top ten hits, in part because Withers personal life was withering - he was having marital problems with his wife, actress Denise Nicholas (Liz McIntire on "Room 222") and his record company, Sussex, was on the verge of bankruptcy.

Withers' music on "+ 'Justments" is sparse. He relies mostly on strings, the pluck of a harp or a Jack Bruce-like bass line by Melvin Dunlap, letting his lyrics set the tone.

The opening cut. "You," is the most vitriolic song Withers ever wrote, a funky diatribe with low rider bass lines, shivering strings and lyrics seemingly directed at Nicholas and Hollywood's party people: "I have a friend who knows your best friend; he's going some places she goes. He says he saw ya'll at a party, stuffin' white powder up your nose." With caustic comments like that, it's not surprising the single didn't chart and the album remained unissued on CD until this year.

"New" CD, revamped Catalogue to be Released in March

Jimi Hendrix is releasing a new CD -- forty years after his death. "Valleys of Neptune," a 12-cut album recorded in 1969, features the Jimi Hendrix Experience's final recordings along with Hendrix's early sessions with Army buddy bassist Billy Cox.

"Valleys of Neptune" includes revamps of Hendrix standards such as "Red House," "Fire," and "Stone Free," plus "Mr. Bad Luck," recorded during the "Axis Bold as Love" sessions. Hendrix also covers Elmore James' "Bleeding Heart" and Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love."

Following the profitable path blazed by the recent reissue of The Beatles catalogue, Legacy Recordings will release CD/DVD packages of "Are You Experienced?" "Axis Bold as Love," "Electric Ladyland" and "First Rays of the New Rising Sun" on March 9. The DVDs include a documentary about the making of each album produced by "Beatles Anthology" director Bob Smeaton with interviews with Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding of the Experience, plus additional comments by Billy Cox, engineer Eddie Kramer and manager/producer Chas Chandler.

My initial reaction to the news was "Jeez, the dude only released four albums during his lifetime. They've put out 160 since his death. Haven't they picked Jimi's corpse clean by now? Should I invest in his catalogue for a third time?" On the plus side, Legacy is smart enough to throw in enough extras that make the upgrade worthwhile, and tweaking the sound with the latest technology is bound to make Jimi's phenomenal feedback sound more God-like. Being partial to singers rather than a Stratocaster turned up to 11, my favorite Hendrix tunes are the more melodic, introspective ones such as "Angel," "Drifting," "One Rainy Wish," "May This Be Love," and "Castles in the Sand." The upgrade is bound to uncover even more psychedelic subtleties to savor.

I listened to "If 6 was 9" on a pair of top of the line headphones back in the days when I indulged in non over the counter drugs. With Traffic's Chris Wood twittering on the flute in one ear and Jimi's cascading guitar in another, I was pole axed when Hendrix walked through the center of the phones declaring, "I'll know when it's time for me to die." For that brief moment, life, death and the meaning of the universe all converged in the headphones and made sense. I'm looking forward to reliving that feeling when I re-experience Jimi Hendrix.

Invades the Airwaves with "Soldier of Love"
Every half decade or so, Helen Folasade Adu (better known as Sade) blesses us with a new CD. Her last effort, 2000's "Lovers Rock" (4 out of 5 stars), was her best. If the advance single, the out of step single "Soldier of Love" (2 out of 4 stars) is an indication of what her new material will sound like, it won't be anywhere near being her best effort, but it will be an interesting radical departure from her romantic past.

For the most part, I like Sade's seductive songs - they're music to make babies by. Everybody feels sexy when they listen to Sade, but there's no sense of sensuality in "Soldier," and that's what Sade is all about. Simplistic lines like "It's a wild, wild west, doing my best to stay alive," don't really cut it for me after an eight year hiatus.

The five minute video borrows from Janet Jackson's "Rhythm Nation" both in subject matter and visual impact, which is negligible. With high-stepping dancers hip-hopping to military drum rolls, snapping to attention at Sade's command or bending their bodies in unison, these soldiers look like the Alvin Ailey Army, and while I respect Alvin's talents (as well as the other chipmunks), this is one fey looking bunch of recruits. I'm not sure what the dominatrix Sade with a lasso image means, but yippy-yi-oh-ki-yay.

Sade set out to do something different, and in that regard she's succeeded. Too bad "Soldier of Love" is 4-F. I'm hoping to re-enlist in Sade's army when I hear the rest of the CD is released February 8.  

  Grandpa Elliott
  Sugar Sweet
  3.5 out of 5 stars
  Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson

A few years ago, a friend E-mailed me a video of Ben E. King's "Stand by Me" performed by musicians from all over the world for a project dubbed "Playing for Change." The three lead vocalists, in order, were Roger Ridley, a gruff-voiced powerhouse from Los Angeles; New Orleans based bluesman/R & B belter Grandpa Elliott, and Youngblood shouter Clarence Bekker from the Netherlands. The throat-ripping Ridley was the best, Bekker the most aggressive, and Grandpa fit the role of an authentic overlooked street musician. Grandpa had the whole Blind Lemon Chitlin' persona going, but his vocal for "Stand by Me" was occasionally hindered by his lack of an upper plate. Well, give a man the right tunes and some opportune dental work and a star is born.

Don't be put off by the trio of tentative tunes that start the album off, Grandpa sweetens things up as the finds his stylistic footing. The opener, "Ain't Nothin' You Can Do," was recorded with gusto by Van Morrison for his live album "It's Too Late to Stop Now." Grandpa will never win an award for clarity ("Dere ain't nuttin' you kan do"), but his vocal is less gruff than it was for his turn on "Stand by Me." His "Ain't Nothin' You Can Do" is done in a laid-back yet positive manner reminiscent of Bobby Mcferrin's "Don't Worry Be Happy," with bubbly guitar work by Louis Mhlanga. Grandpa helps set the mood with an easy going harp solo.

  Los Lonely Boys
  1969 EP
  3 out of 5 stars
  Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson

For those of you who continue to think I only give the thumbs up to "classic" rock artists instead of the young turks, this five song EP by Los Lonely Boys offers the best of both worlds - old school tunes done by a trio of musicians whose first album is still recent history.

Los Lonely Boys is comprised of the three Garza Brothers: Henry (guitar, vocals), Jo Jo (bass, vocals) and Ringo (drums, vocals, and yep, that's his name). The trio gigged in Nashville, creating their trademark "Texican Style" - a mixture of rock, blues, R & B and Tejano music. Their first single from their debut, "Heaven," was a catchy combination of lyrical Los Lobos-like licks and memorable hooks. "Heaven" garnered a Grammy in 2005 for Best Performance by a duo or group. The brothers didn't sit on their culos, producing two follow up discs, 2006's "Sacred" and 2008's "Forgiven," in rapid succession.

Having the luxury of their own label and the freedom to record what and when they want, the brothers Garza have released "1969," a tribute to their roots. True, the songs the Boys sing were all popular in 1969 - one was even written way back in 1958 - but the crisp production, coupled with their enthusiasm and "Texican Style" delivery will appeal to rockers of all ages.

Santana's first hit "Evil Ways," is recreated in low gear. It gets its Latin injection by way of the Pecos instead of L.A., but give the Boys credit for pulling it off with Henry's sizzling string bending subbing for the authoritative organ solo by Greg Rolie that embellished the original.

"Well All Right" was originally co-written by Buddy Holly in 1958, but was popularized in '69 by Blind Faith, one of the first "super groups" that featured Steve Winwood and Eric Clapton. The Boys' version is an off shoot of Blind Faith's loosey-goosey adaptation. The Garza Brothers' take lopes along at a smooth cha-cha clip assisted by Carmelo Torres on percussion, but dare I say it? Henry's wah-wah soloing is more interesting than Clapton's rave at the end of Blind Faith's version. Henry and Jo Jo's vocals are faithful to the Winwood/Clapton harmony work and Ringo pounds the drums with foot-tapping authority.

The brothers' remake of "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window" is no match for the Beatles flippant version or Joe Cocker's throaty dissertation, but it won't make you want to jump through a window either. The Boys' version is grittier, flowing with inner city soul. Vocally, Henry is a dead ringer for Cesar Rosas of Los Lobos, and I'm all for it, because Cesar's got one of those classic dirty baritones that's perfect for rock. Viva to Henry's wah-wah wildness; it helps shape the remake's funky feel, and Ringo one ups his Beatle namesake with a blitz of pervasive percussion.

I hold Tony Joe White's songs in a sacred place in my heart, so I held my breath when I noticed the Boys had taken on T.J.'s "Polk Salad Annie." I've heard a number of credible versions of Tony Joe's best known number, including an incendiary, jump suit-jerking version by Elvis. The King's Memphis' soulful version satisfied because he took the time to get to know Tony Joe and to get a feel for his music. The Boys' version is snakey, with a laid back beat that percolates, but also has plenty of Longhorn spice. It doesn't re-write history, but it's danceable and doesn't throw dirt on Tony Joe's reputation.

The same laid-back treatment sticks The Doors "Roadhouse Blues" in enough Rio Grande mud to make it monotonous. The Garza's substitute Ray Manzarek's honky tonk piano with Henry's wah-wah wonderful guitar licks, but there's no replacement for John Sebastian's bluesy harp which, coupled with the shuffling pace, leaves a hole in the arrangement. It's a nice try; "Roadhouse" is even enjoyable when the Boys lock into a groove, but this one should have been a little more up-tempo.

I haven't been following the trail of Los Lonely Boys since their award-worthy debut, but judging by their respect for the "classics" I should, and perhaps you should too. Los Lonely Boys know how to party like its 1969. Bueno.

I'd be more inclined to have a happy holiday season if it wasn't for the gnawing, appalling soundtrack of December - Christmas music. However, there are some sprigs of holly amidst the audio avalanche of yellow snow:

I present -- The Five Best Christmas Songs:

1)    Blue Christmas, Elvis Presley. The subject matter speaks to my skepticism of the season. The King pokes fun at his own singing style with an exaggerated, swaggering vocal, and those eerie banshee back ups are a blast.

2)    Jingle Bell Rock, Bobby Helms. Often imitated but never equaled. Rock and roll rockabilly at its most hummable.

3)    Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree, Brenda Lee. Little Miss Dynamite was all of 13 when she recorded this, another rockabilly classic with twangy guitar by Hank Garland (the same axe man on "Jingle Bell Rock") and gut-busting sax by Boots Randolph.

4)    Little Drummer Boy, The Harry Simeone Chorale and Orchestra. Touching, beautiful and warm, and that's what the holiday is supposed to be, isn't it? Credit The Jack Halloran singers for their angelic, spiritual vocals.

5)    The Christmas Song, Nat King Cole. Positive proof my Dad knew what he was talking about. This second "King" was one of his favorite singers; Nat's impeccable diction and those cascading strings have warmed even this chilly heart.

Honorable mention: Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy, Bing Crosby and David Bowie. Gotta love this just for the weird factor; it's one of the strangest couplings since Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller. Der Bingle sang the "Drummer Boy" counterpoint to Ziggy Stardust's "Peace on Earth" and somehow neither singer tripped up. Crosby died less than a month after teaming up with Bowie. Guess the thought of his fans seeing him making nice with a bi-sexual space oddity who favored spiked red hair and make up darkened his "White Christmas."

The Worst Christmas Recordings:
A rotten fruitcake and five lumps of coal to:

1)    Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, Elmo and Patsy. I'd like to run over every copy of this corny country compost heap.

2)    Jingle Bells, The Singing Dogs. Forgot about this one, didn't you? Before six year-olds could figure out how to edit music on their home computers, hicks were wowed at how the producers got the dogs to bark out the notes in tune. (Here's hint, Sparky, they didn't.) Maybe it was amusing the first go round, but after that the incessant barking (not singing) this "canine classic" was as painful as a starved Rottweiler mistaking your naughty bits for a candy cane.

3)    Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Bruce Springsteen. Bruce's herniated ho ho hoarse vocalizing makes me want to hit him with a Yule log. Please, Bruce, get put some fiber in your eggnog - you sound like you're choking on a chestnut.

4)    Santa Baby, Madonna. Madonna's Betty Boop be-doing is cheesy and sleazy. Sounds like Santa's gonna need a large dose of disinfectant after Madge sits in his lap.

5)    Dominick the Donkey, Lou Monte. I'm surprised Tony Soprano didn't put a hit on Lou for making Italian Americans look like jackasses. Hee haw, hee haw, indeed.

Dishonorable mention: A Wonderful Christmastime, Paul McCartney. No, I'm not having a wonderful Christmas, Macca, not after hearing yet another silly love song composed by a supposed legend who couldn't come up with a cogent lyric if Tiny Tim's life depended on it.

I've never heard John Denver's "Please Daddy (Don't Get Drunk for Christmas)", but I assure you I would if I did.

Christmas music? Bah Humbug.

  King Crimson
  In the Court of the Crimson King
  4 out of 5 stars
  Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson

If you want to know where progressive rock started, enter the realm of the Court of the Crimson King. Originally released in 1969, The five song L.P. combined elements of classical, folk, jazz and rock and helped focus attention on a genre further popularized by groups such as Yes, the Moody Blues, Genesis, Pink Floyd and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. In celebration of the 40th anniversary of the album's release, "In the Court of" has been remastered in several tantalizing formats: a double disc edition with bonus tracks, alternate mixes, and live recordings, and a boxed set with six discs that also adds restored bootlegs, single edits and rare promos. For Crimson completists, the six CD version is prog's version of the Holy Grail.

King Crimson sprang from the partnership of drummer Mike Giles, his bass-playing brother Peter and guitarist Robert Fripp, who recorded the 1968 album "The Cheerful Insanity of Giles, Giles and Fripp," a collection of quirky pop excursions. Seeking to expand their sound, the trio recruited multi-instrumentalist Ian Macdonald, who began experimenting with a Mellotron, the eerie keyboard that had given the Moody Blues music a wide-ranging orchestral sound. Macdonald then brought in poet Peter Sinfield, whose dramatic, descriptive lyrics elevated the band's songs to mythic proportions. Macdonald also drafted his girlfriend, former Fairport Convention singer Judy Dyble to handle the vocals but she left after the collapse of their relationship, having recorded a few demos with the group (which you can hear on the expanded edition of the album). The last member to join was bassist/vocalist Greg Lake, who was recommended by Pete Giles, the man he replaced. The final touch was provided by artist Barry Gober. Gober's only painting, a gripping, frightening portrait depicting a screaming crimson-colored man, became the cover for the group's debut.

  Eric Clapton & Steve Winwood
  Live at Madison Square Garden
  3.5 out of 5 stars
  Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson


Blind Faith, one of rock's earliest and most heralded supergroups, is often held up as a prime example of what not to do when you get four famous artists together to make music. The principals had impressive resumes - vocalist/keyboard player/guitarist Steve Winwood came to prominence as a 14 year-old hit maker with The Spencer Davis Group before forming the legendary art rock band Traffic (my favorite group, by the way) with drummer/vocalist Jim Capaldi, sax/flute/keyboardist Chris Wood, (and occasionally guitarist Dave Mason). Eric Clapton had plied his trade as a blues guitarist with the Yardbirds and John Mayall before he formed Cream with power vocalist/bassist Jack Bruce and psycho drummer Ginger Baker. Baker (who Clapton didn't want in Blind Faith because of his heavy heroin habit and combative disposition), had rattled the traps for British blues pioneer Graham Bond. Bassist Rick Grech was the least familiar name in Blind Faith, but he'd received rave reviews for his work with blues/folk rockers the Family, and would later heighten his profile playing with Traffic and KGB. Despite their pedigrees, Blind Faith was finished within a year; Clapton because was disillusioned with the hype surrounding the group and Winwood was ready to go solo.

Blind Faith left behind a six-song LP that became a rock cult classic. Forty years and just as many albums later, the group's principals, Steve Winwood and Eric Clapton, joined together for a concert tour. The DVD of their stop over at Madison Square Garden fulfils the promise of the group's only album. Although Winwood and Clapton never dubbed the tour a Blind Faith reunion, you can bet Ginger Baker (who wasn't invited) seethed while concert promoters cashed in on the group's rep while he was gathering dust in South Africa. Rick Grech had a better excuse for not signing on - he'd died in 1990.

To flesh out their Blind Faith tribute set, Winwood and Clapton raided their own massive back catalogues, but they did so with a twist -- Clapton chose Winwood's songs and vice versa. As a result, a few unexpected performances pop up. The list is constructed so one of the best singers in the world (Winwood) handles most of the vocals and an acclaimed guitarist (Clapton) gets to do what he does best. Since Blind Faith only released half a dozen songs, its surprising Winwood and Clapton omitted one of the group's best -- "Sea of Joy." Maybe Winwood couldn't hit the song's herniated high notes anymore, or Clapton felt there was no point in doing it without Grech's gypsy wind violin solo.

  The Beatles
  Reissues
  5 out of 5 stars
  Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson

YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!

I feel extremely fortunate to have grown up with The Beatles. We needed them when they came to the U.S. in 1964. Our President had been shot down the previous November in graphic fashion, plunging the nation into mourning. The Beatles gave us back our optimism and hope. When I saw them on "The Ed Sullivan Show," they were charismatic, electric, original, and above all, magical. I came to know them better than my own kin: John the witty one, Paul the pretty one, George the quiet one, and Ringo the nice one. I listened intently as they progressed from the straightforward pop of "Love Me Do," to the psychedelia of "I am the Walrus" -- and I shed a tear when they reached "The Long and Winding Road."

I'm certain that without The Beatles popular music as we know it wouldn't exist. No Dead. No Doors. No Traffic. No Crosby, no Stills, no Nash. No catharsis the moment I heard Mike Harrison of Spooky Tooth growl his way through their version of "I am the Walrus." The Beatles expanded the horizons of the 45 r.p.m. pop song by adding orchestras, tape loops, and multi-tracking while crafting lyrics that touched the mind as well as the heart. I fear that without The Beatles we'd still be listening to cocktail lounge music by Frankie Laine (providing he and his raccoon toupee were still alive), country corn by Homer and Jethro, or two minute teenager in love ditties by Fabian.

Who's That Singer?

Allow me to shed some light on singers you may have heard but don't know by name...

1) Mike Harrison, Spooky Tooth, The Hamburg Blues Band. Who else would I put first but rock's fallen angel?  Simply put, Harrison has an astounding, captivating, frightening and expressive voice that can be angelically smooth and buttery one moment and as devilishly grainy as high grade sandpaper the next. He can take any song and make it sound as if he's lived the lyrics, a neat trick for someone who isn't a composer. Check out Mike with Spooky Tooth singing "I am the Walrus" ("The Last Puff"),"Moriah" and "Holy Water" (both from "You Broke My Heart...So I Busted Your Jaw").

2) Jim Capaldi, Traffic. It's tough to be a great singer in a band that has Steve Winwood, one rock's most noted front-men. As a result, Capaldi only checked in with three leads during his Traffic years, but two were on "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys;" the tongue-in-cheek "Light Up Or leave Me Alone" and the reggae rum-shaker "Rock N' Roll Stew." Through a dozen solo L.P.s, Gentleman Jim displayed a knack for R&B and a talent for touching torch songs. Check out these tunes from Jim's solo efforts: "Eve" ("Oh How We Danced"), "The Game of Love" ("The Contender") and "Back at My Place" ("Fierce Heart").

3) Richard Manuel, The Band. Manuel's life-of-the-party lifestyle belied his deeply troubled psyche, but the hurt came through in his wounded vocals. As the saying goes, he sang with a tear in his voice. Check out: "Whispering Pines" (from "The Band" album), "Sleeping" ("Stagefright") and the live version of "King Harvest (Has Surely Come") from "Rock of Ages."

4) Miller Anderson, Keef Hartley Band, Hemlock, Dog Soldier, Savoy Brown, The Dukes, T. Rex, Spencer Davis Group, others. Talk about an itinerant musician! Miller is an ace guitarist with a husky, confident range, Miller was made to wail the blues. Check out Miller's solo efforts "Bright City" (from the album of the same name) and "Across the Borderline" (from "Celtic Moon"), plus "Believe in You" from the Keef Hartley Band's "Battle of  Northwest Six."

5) James Dewar, Robin Trower Band. Calling Dewar a white soul singer only covers part of his abilities. Mix Dewar's wooly vocals with Trower's Hendrixy psych guitar and you've got magic. Three of Jim's best bits with Trower are the title track from "Victims of the Fury," "It's For You" ("Caravan to Midnight") and "The Fool and Me" ("Bridge of Sighs").

6) Chris Youlden, Savoy Brown. Youlden had a froggy, smoky delivery that sounded like Edward G. Robinson's dialogue set to music. Another bloke steeped in the blues with a soul man's sense of timing and the lyrical ammunition of a poet.  Check out : "Made Up My Mind" and "I'm Tired" from Savoy Brown's "A Step Further" album and Chris' solo song "A Chink of Sanity" from "Nowhere Road."

7) Rod Evans, Deep Purple, Captain Beyond. Purple has had three main vocalists: screecher Ian Gillan, funky David Coverdale (well, he was funky with them) and Evans. He was a true singer with a steady, warm pitch and a deeply romantic tone. Too bad his career was cut short by a lawsuit brought against him by the other members for $600,000 plus that specified he couldn't perform the group's material. Come back to the mike, Rod, all is forgiven. Check out: "Anthem" ("The Book of Taliseyn") and "Hush" ("Shades of Deep Purple") from Rod's days with Deep Purple, and "Sufficiently Breathless" from his tenure with Captain Beyond.

8) Terry Kath, Chicago. Jimi Hendrix was seldom in awe of anyone, but he was very impressed with the way Chicago's lead stringman attacked his guitar. He also assaulted the mike with his rich bellow of a voice and could scream like a man on fire. If Kath hadn't been a fan of Russian Roulette, Chicago might still be a viable band today. Check out: "Jenny" (Chicago VI), "Loneliness is Just a Word" (Chicago III) and "Make Me Smile" (Chicago II).

9) Danny Kirwan, Fleetwood Mac. He was England's Richard Manuel, and one of Fleetwood Mac's most overlooked and skilled guitarists. Kirwan's gentle, quiet vocals reflected his inner turmoil or his boyish charm. It's been said he cried when he played and sang, and you can hear it in his almost hesitant but thoughtful approach. Check out "Sometimes" and "Woman of a Thousand Years" from the Mac's "Future Games." and "Dust," from the group's "Bare Trees" album.

10) David Ruffin, The Temptations. "Ruff" (as he was known) was perpetually late to gigs, an egomaniac and a coke Hoover. There was also an unconfirmed rumor he used Tammi Terrell for a punching bag, causing the brain tumor that eventually killed her. Despite his unforgivable faults, Ruff was the definition of raw emotion and  a true soul singer. When he went solo, Ruffin couldn't figure out why he couldn't produce the same raspy cry he manufactured for the Temps hits. Turns out the Tempts producers had Ruffin sing a few octaves above his normal tenor range to make him strain, creating his distinctive desperate vocal cry. Check out: "All I Need" (with the Temptations) and Ruff's solo songs "Take Me Clear From Here" ("Rock and Roll is Here to Stay") and "My Whole World Ended" (from the album of the same name).

Five Who Need to Back Away From the Microphone...

1) Bob Dylan. Even Bob says he can't sing, so what does that tell you? Dylan was an accomplished songwriter early in his career, and I'll also give him props for employing a childhood friend of mine in his band, but when he opens his mouth, it's a hard rain that's gonna fall.

2) Tom Waits. Waits inhabits the skid row characters he writes about, growling, yelling, grunting and snotting his way through his tales of whine and roses. It's called singing Tom, not acting and I can't "waits" for you to stop.

3) Geddy Lee, Rush.  This Canadian goose sounds like Olive Oyl being strangled by Bluto. Take off to the great white north, giddy.

4) Lou Reed. Surly Lou always sounds sleepy and bored. His monotoned mumbling has the same effect on audiences.

5) Bruce Springsteen. Like Dylan, Bruce the Moose is a capable songwriter, but sings as if he needs a healthy dose of Ex-Lax, making all of his Jersey clap trap sound, ahem, forced.