David Blue had an eventful if largely under the radar career as a singer-songwriter and actor; most people likely know him, or better said, know of his achievements, through the composition “Outlaw Man,” which was recorded by the Eagles. Starting in 1966, he cut a string of albums, and for a while, each one was more interesting than its predecessor, a climb in quality that apexed with Stories, his 1971 set for Asylum Records, an LP as worthwhile as its sales were poor. On September 2, the Eremite label detours from their avant-jazz norm with a well-deserved reissue on 120 gram vinyl in a retro flipback jacket and with an insert featuring Leonard Cohen’s 1982 eulogy for the man.
Born Stuart David Cohen in 1941, David Blue died of a heart attack in 1982 while jogging in Central Park. Although never himself a star, he ran in the circles of musical celebrity, befriending Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan, with the latter association especially notable, as Blue’s self-titled 1966 debut for Elektra is very much a knock-off of Dylan’s budding folk-rock mode.
Far from a vapid hanger-on, later in his career Blue joined the Rolling Thunder Revue, with his participation landing him in Dylan’s sprawling and legendarily hard-to-see cinematic epic Renaldo and Clara, which briefly hit (a few) theaters in 1978 and hasn’t seen a legit release since. Blue’s appearance in Renaldo and Clara was essentially a documentary riff, but he was an actual actor in both Wim Wenders’ ’77 neo-noir The American Friend, and Neil Young’s harder to classify Human Highway, which was released in ’82, shortly after Blue’s death.
Returning to the discography, David Blue is a Dylan knock-off, but highly accomplished one, with a couple of gems in the category of imitative Bob-ishness (“So Easy She Goes By” and “I’d Like to Know”), but his 1968 follow-up These 23 Days in September was a more impressive affair in how it reinforced his acumen as songwriter and broadened the landscape of similarities, with a few moments reminiscent of Leonard Cohen (amid a lingering likeness to Dylan). His third LP and second of two for Reprise, Me, released in 1970 under the name S. David Cohen, branched out into country-folk territory.
This turn of events had less to do with riding Dylan’s coattails than folks unfamiliar with Blue might assume, as Me opened with a solid version of Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried.” And all the while, his singing was getting stronger and warmer, which would prove crucial to Stories, the record opening with the decidedly gentle “Looking for a Friend,” its musings following an unsurprising singer-songwriter trajectory given the year of the LP’s release and the label doing the releasing, but nicely avoiding the milquetoast (talkin’ ‘bout you, Sweet Baby James).
Instead, Blue sounds a little like Waylon Jennings, a definite plus that extends to the following track “Sister Rose” and its higher plateaus of intensity, The track is also enhanced by some expert playing, as Stories features a strong cast of sessioneers; we’re talking Ry Cooder, Russ Kunkel, Pete Jolly, Rita Coolidge, Chris Ethridge, and Bob Rafkin. But don’t go thinking this album is a case of the backing band upstaging the singer and his songs.
Of course, Cooder’s slide guitar in “Another One Like Me” is a welcome touch, but it’s Blue’s singing and fingerpicking that carry the tune. From there, “House of Changing Faces” delivers a somewhat Neil Youngish twist to wrap up side one. The flip opens with the gorgeous “Marianne,” its subject matter shared with a song by Leonard Cohen, and even as Blue’s singing has stepped onto its own zone, it does remind me a bit of Aussie singer-songwriter-rocker Michael Beach, to offer a more recent example (if one with some affinities with Dylan).
This nod to Beach, who is himself an admittedly modestly-profiled player on the current scene, underscores that Stories isn’t a relic of its time, even as portions do reflect its era, as “Fire in the Mountain” finds Blue switching to piano with Jack Nitzsche contributing a swell string arrangement. Sticking with piano for the terrific “Come on John,” Blue dishes some of his most biting and direct lyrics, on drug addiction (not his), as the full band kicks in.
“The Blues (All Night Long)” sees the return of Cooder’s slide, unsurprising given the title, and the cut’s overall sweep is considerable, incorporating Ralph Shuckett’s organ and Coolidge’s voice for a fine finale. Stories isn’t perfect (this mostly relates to his indebtedness to his influences), but the record also doesn’t register any major flaws. It’s a LP that should be appreciated by far more people than have heard it, and so it’s splendid that Eremite has put it back in circulation.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
