Blood, Sweat & Tears

Eh, this was fine.

2.7

Coole Sounds

I was familiar with the band's name. However, I expected the music to be in a different genre. Not so much big band and jazz. It was quite interesting, but it didn't really convince me. I want to listen to it again. But I wasn't thrilled by it. 3/5

Best album of 1969, according to the Grammy's. Perhaps there were more fitting albums from that year, looking from a modern perspective. Still, it's a good album. This combines a lot of the cool sounds of the era together. Folk Rock of the Band combined with jams and downright Jazz-like songs. The hit singles off this are my favorites here. Brass band Rock like this hasn't really stood the test of time like some other genres, so it's perhaps not the most welcoming album for people who only listen new stuff.

I will not include the live CD bonus tracks in this review.

Blood, Sweat & Tears is one of those groups that I was only familiar with the singles. I did not realize until now how many lineup changes they went through over the years. Even just for this self-titled album, original vocalist Al Kooper left the band over artistic differences, which led to the recruitment of David Clayton-Thomas. It was the singles from David's tenure with the jazz-rock outfit that I was familiar with, which had me curious how the rest of this record would sound. Unfortunately, it seems that I wasn't missing out on much.

To be fair, I do think it was a smart choice on the group's part to bring in David, as he is quite the belter. He had such bravado in his vocal performance that he helped make the most out of these big-band style arrangements, particularly on the original songs "More and More" and especially "Spinning Wheel". Though that said, I also even dug the more serene "Sometimes in Winter", with Steve Katz's reserved delivery nestled alongside Dick Halligan's elegant flute playing and the softer brass passages. It's a nice, quieter stew amidst the louder, poppier tunes.

Now, this is the part where I have to make clear that I just covered all of the original songs on this album, as the rest are covers and renditions of existing songs. This is where the quality is all over the place. At the top echelon is the cover of Brenda Holloway's "You've Made Me So Very Happy", which is bursting with such joy from David's vocals alongside the horn accompaniment, while also balanced with Halligan's thoughtful organ playing. Next tier down are the covers of Traffic's "Smiling Phases" and Billie Holiday's "God Bless the Child", which are about on par with the originals. Then there's the cover of Laura Nyro's "And When I Die", which is fine, though I will admit that Laura had a better vocal performance on her own track than David did, plus I wasn't much into the added harmonica on this rendition. Following that are how this album is bookended by variations on themes from French composer Erik Satie's Trois Gymnopédies, which can be chalked up to easy-listening instrumental fluff that, at best, felt incongruent to the rest of the album. Which leaves the worst song being the "Blues - Part II" medley, and it was a chore to listen to, as it was the kind of mostly instrumental jam that mindlessly wandered without any sense of direction or build towards a meaningful conclusion. Only towards the end did the band feel the need to incorporate some blues melodies, as the horns blared out the riff to Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love" without any subtlety, to headache-inducing results. David did come back to sing in the last minute or so, but by that point, the damage was done. Any momentum this record built up by the end of "You've Made Me So Very Happy" was effectively neutered.

At the end of the day, I am content with the notion that Blood, Sweat & Tears may just be a singles act. I can enjoy the hits, maybe one or two other songs, and not much else after that.

Ik kreeg al uitslag toen ik het decennium zag, maar dit album blijkt een leuke verrassing uit die jaren '60. Swingende jazzy klanken die je zomaar wat ouder kan inschatten gaan mooi samen met een pop/rock-achtige opzet. De verschillende elementen laten elkaar mooi in hun waarde. Het pakt wellicht niet op elk nummer even goed uit. Er komt af en toe wat saaiers voorbij. Maar dat wordt ruimschoots gecompenseerd door de knallers. Smiling Faces als opwarmertje bijvoorbeeld en natuurlijk Spinning Wheel. Die laatste op het album helaas wel flink tekort gedaan door het einde met 'Oh du lieber Augustin'.

I immediately recognized the first song as a part of the Trigun soundtrack. This album had some great musical ideas but it felt more like a brain dump of music than an arranged album. This is probably one of the best 2 star albums from my ratings though. Very listenable.

Rock is a weird characterization -- this had some fun western/american/jazz elements. The tail end was straight up jazz! I had to keep double checking I was still listening to the right album.
And when I die reminded me of Aaron Copland's Rodeo!
What a great find from a band I had never heard of before.

Highlights: and when I die

What in the MOR jazz rock is this? That version of God Bless the Child sounded like if Joe Cocker had been the guest singer at the gymnasium dance in West Side Story. There’s certainly a lot going on but I don’t feel like any of it really gelled.

Not my thing but recognized the theme from movies, although I guess it was the original version rather than this one.

There's better jazz from the 60s, there's better rock from the sixties, there's better jazz/rock from the 60s. This is OK, but I wouldn't go back to it.

2.5/5.0: Mixed

fun album though it does drag in parts.

The stylistic shifts within stylistic shifts make this Jazz(?) Rock(?) Modern Classical(?) Blues(?) album unknowable. It’s variations on variations on variations and it’s also a lot of fun. My favourite bits are the instrumental sections, though I admit that vocals consistently contribute to the LP’s number one strength, which is surprise. The use of covers and interpolations are also mind boggling. It’s controlled chaos with every new element sounding perfectly out of place.

A few bangers and a lot of filler.

i liked the organ. fun jazz rock. i could do without the cheesy callouts to other tracks. also the satie themes.

If progressive soul were a thing, mixed w/ jazz fusion and jazz-rock, I guess Blood, Sweat, & Tears would be the exponent of that genre. I don't really like progressive anything, unless it's politics (and even then that reeks of a neoliberal formulation), but this is honestly better than I expected. Unlike the other prog slogs, BS&T at least give the impression that they're having fun: the others, that they're completing a chore of intellectual drudgery. Loosed is even sweet sagacity (shout out to Laura Nyro): 'All I ask of living is to have no chains on me / And all I ask of dying is to go naturally.' It can't be that good tho, since, in the end, it's too pretentious and long-winded, it's not that original, and I'd actually never choose to listen to it. Okayish.

The jazz caught me off guard.

Lettre ouverte aux spectres du jury des Grammy Awards 1970.

Messieurs les jurés (paix à vos âmes, si tant est que vous en ayez une),

Je vous écris depuis une époque que vous n'auriez sans doute pas comprise. Une époque où la musique peut tenir dans une petite boîte sans fil, où l'on peut accéder à presque tout ce qui a été enregistré en quelques secondes. Et c'est dans le cadre d'un projet un peu fou, une sorte de pèlerinage sonore à travers 1001 albums jugés "essentiels", que je suis tombé sur votre... œuvre. Votre décision ou plus exactement votre crime de lèse-majesté musical.

Je veux bien sûr parler de cette funeste soirée de 1970 où, dans un accès de folie collective ou de surdité avancée, vous avez décerné le prix de l'Album de l'Année à "Blood, Sweat & Tears".

Je dois vous avouer que la première écoute fut un choc. Pas un choc esthétique, non. Plutôt le genre de choc que l'on ressent quand on met les doigts dans une prise électrique défectueuse. Un spasme, une convulsion de mauvais goût qui a secoué mes enceintes et mon âme de pauvre rocker élevé au son de The Cure et des Pixies.

Comment avez-vous pu ?

Je vous pose la question sans détour. Qu'est-ce qui a bien pu traverser vos esprits ? Étiez-vous à ce point terrorisés par la jeunesse, par la contre-culture, que vous ayez ressenti le besoin de récompenser son exact opposé ? Car cet album, c'est l'anti-rock par excellence. C'est le rock tel que l'imaginerait un directeur de banque qui voudrait "faire jeune". C'est un monstre de Frankenstein musical, une créature boursouflée, où des cuivres assourdissants, dignes d'une comédie musicale de seconde zone à Broadway, viennent piétiner sans vergogne les restes d'un pauvre groupe de rock qui n'avait rien demandé.

C'est une musique terriblement sérieuse, qui se prend pour ce qu'elle n'est pas. Elle se drape dans des atours de "complexité" et de "virtuosité", mais elle est aussi profonde qu'une flaque d'eau. C'est une musique de frimeurs, pour les frimeurs. Le genre de disque qu'on devait mettre à l'époque pour impressionner ses invités lors d'un cocktail dînatoire, entre deux conversations sur le golf et les placements en bourse. C'est de la musique d'ameublement, du bruit de fond de luxe.

Et ce chanteur... Avez-vous seulement écouté ce chanteur ? David Clayton-Thomas. Il a la puissance vocale d'un animateur de supermarché annonçant une promo sur le papier toilette, et la subtilité d'un marteau-piqueur. Chaque note est forcée, chaque intention est surjouée. Il ne chante pas, il pavoise.

Pendant ce temps, dans la même catégorie, il y avait un petit disque sans prétention. Un truc enregistré par quatre jeunes de Liverpool. Ça s'appelait "Abbey Road". Ça vous dit quelque chose ? Un album qui, plus d'un demi-siècle plus tard, continue de faire pleurer, rêver, et vibrer des millions de gens. Un disque dont chaque note, chaque silence, est un miracle.

Vous aviez l'or entre les mains, et vous avez choisi le plaqué. Vous aviez l'éternité, et vous avez choisi la naphtaline.

Sachez que l'Histoire, elle, n'a pas été dupe. Votre décision est devenue une blague récurrente, un cas d'école de l'égarement critique. "Blood, Sweat & Tears" a rejoint le cimetière des gloires éphémères, tandis qu'"Abbey Road" trône au Panthéon.

Je ne vous en veux pas, personnellement. Votre erreur de jugement m'a au moins offert une bonne tranche de rigolade et le sujet de cette lettre. Mais par pitié, si vous vous réincarnez un jour, faites-le en vendeurs de moquettes. Laissez la musique à ceux qui l'aiment vraiment.

Avec mes salutations les moins respectueuses,

Un passeur de disques du futur.

Note finale : 1/5

On paper, horn-driven rock with jazz chops should be right in my wheelhouse, and the big singles — “Spinning Wheel” and “You’ve Made Me So Very Happy” — are still excellent. But the album as a whole doesn’t fully land for me. Slick, well-played, and historically important, but not one I’d call a five-star record. Somewhere between 3 and 4 feels right — respect for the hits and the influence, but the deep cuts leave me less impressed.