Crash Landing (1975)

Crash Landing (1975)



Face 1

1. Message To Love
2. Somewhere Over The Rainbow
3. Crash Landing
4. Come Down Hard On Me

Face 2

1. Peace In Mississippi
2. With The Power
3. Stone Free Again
4. Captain Coconut

En baptisant son premier album de Jimi en tant que producteur "Crash Landing", Alan Douglas faisait preuve d'un sens de l'humour pour le moins féroce : c'est en effet l'accident d'avion qui coûta la vie à Mike Jeffery qui lui permit de prendre les commandes de la gestion de l'héritage musical Hendrixien.
Si "Loose Ends" était aussi faible, ce n'est pas parce que John Jansen était un incapable : c'est tout simplement parce qu'à ce stade, il n'y avait pas matière à produire un disque "grand public" de Jimi Hendrix de qualité.

Alan Douglas aurait, dans un premier temps, envisagé de sortir un album "normal", avec les sessions originales, dont les titres auraient été les suivants :

Face 1

- Crash Landing
- Somewhere
- Anything Is Possible
- New Rising Sun (H 264 TTG 10/22/1968)

Face B

- Message To Love
- Scat Vocal-Lead 1-Scat Vocal 2-Lead Vocal 2
- Stone Free
- Peace In Mississippi
- Here Comes Your Lover Man


Insatisfait du résultat, Douglas ne baissa pas les bras pour autant, et recruta les services d'un ingénieur du son qui ne manquait pas de talent : Tony Bongiovi. Ce dernier avait d'ailleurs travaillé pour Jimi dès les sessions du troisième album de l'Experience.
Douglas décida d'améliorer le matériel, en combinant les meilleures prises, effaçant certaines pistes quand il jugeait les performances des accompagnateurs insuffisantes, mais aussi en tentant d'extrapoler les idées de Jimi sur les titres les plus incomplets : lorsque Jimi prenait un solo sur une démo (et de facto, ne jouait plus de guitare rythmique), Douglas et Bongiovi s'accordèrent sur l'idée de faire jouer par un musicien de studio les parties manquantes (dans le style de Jimi donc), pour terminer ce que Jimi n'avait pas pu (ou voulu) faire de son vivant.
Douglas justifia la sélection des titres retenus par les deux critères suivants : ils avaient soit un chant de qualité, soit des parties de guitares intéressantes.
Afin d'unifier le son, et d'avoir la meilleure section rythmique possible, ils finirent par remplacer presque tous les accompagnateurs de Jimi. A leur décharge, il faut reconnaître que les moyens techniques de l'époque rendaient la tâche incroyablement compliquée : non seulement chaque partie devait être entièrement écrite, mais les différences de tempo entre les prises rendaient la mission encore plus ardue. A l'époque, il était impossible d'accélérer une bande sans modifier la tonalité du morceau.
Tony Bongiovi revient sur son travail dans le "Setting the record straight" de John McDermott. Selon lui, ils n'auraient rien fait d'autre que ce Douglas fera par la suite sur "Blues" ou Kramer depuis… mais avec les moyens techniques de l’époque : pas de copié-collé, et donc des musiciens extérieurs pour remplir ce job.
C'est pour cette raison que le choix des musiciens s'est naturellement porté sur des requins de studio. Les producteurs ne souhaitaient pas des musiciens créatifs, mais des musiciens capables de prouesses techniques, de sérieux, non d'inventivité. Les séances furent d'ailleurs un véritable calvaire. Jeff Mironov (le premier guitariste) finit par claquer la porte. Et Allan Schwartzberg, le batteur, perdit son calme plus que de raison.
Cela explique pourquoi les anciens musiciens de Jimi furent exclus du projet : les producteurs estimèrent qu'ils n'avaient pas les capacités techniques. C'est peut-être exact, mais cela ne justifie aucunement le mépris que Douglas témoigna à leur égard pour justifier sa décision dans les entretiens qui suivirent la parution de l'album.

Si le concept initial (terminer un nouvel album de Jimi Hendrix) pouvait sembler louable, l'album reste aujourd'hui peut-être le plus scandaleux de l'histoire de l'industrie du disque. D'autant qu'Alan Douglas cosigna tous les titres de l'album qui n'étaient pas déjà sortis du vivant de Jimi : il n'y a pas de petit profit... 5 titres sur 8 tout de même !
Egal à lui-même (les motivations de Douglas sur "Voodoo Soup" seront identiques), Douglas voulait actualiser la musique de Jimi, quitte à trahir son œuvre.

Grace à une campagne de publicité parfaitement orchestrée, "Crash Landing" fit un véritable carton aux States, se classant dans le top 10 et dépassant même les ventes de "Rainbow Bridge" ! La presse fut nettement plus mitigée, même si l'album connut quelques critiques élogieuses.

Que penser de la demi-heure de musique contenue ici ? La facilité serait de tirer à boulets rouges sur tous les titres de "Crash Landing" en criant au scandale. Je tenterai d'être plus nuancé : relever un tel défi en 1975 n'était pas chose facile.  Parmi les amateurs de Jimi, il faut noter qu'aujourd'hui encore, l'album a un certain nombre d'adeptes. Peut-être est-ce dû à la couleur de l'album ? C'est un album très black, qui d'un certain point de vue prolonge le mouvement commencé sur "The Cry Of Love". Malheureusement, et c'est un comble pour un disque de Jimi Hendrix, l'album manque terriblement d'énergie, énergie pourtant consubstantielle à la musique de Jimi.


L'album s'ouvre avec "Message To Love", dans une version quasi non-altérée du Band Of Gypsys. Rééditée depuis dans des versions très proches, on peut tiquer sur le coté propret de celle-ci, mais le résultat n'a rien d'outrancier. Par contre, déjà sorti du vivant de Jimi, le titre n'a alors rien d'inédit...

"As far as I know,
They may even try to wrap me in cellophane and sell me."
Avec la deuxième plage, nous rentrons dans le vif du sujet : "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" (en fait "Somewhere", provenant d'une des sessions d'"Electric Ladyland") était loin d'être terminé, et les versions pirates montrent effectivement un titre en devenir difficilement publiable en l'état. Mitch Mitchell réenregistra la partie de batterie après le décès de Jimi, mais ce n'est pas un hasard s'il fallu attendre la publication du coffret pourpre pour l'entendre : rythmiquement, la basse n'est pas toujours en place avec la guitare. La version d'Alan Douglas est relativement respectueuse de la composition, même s'il ne lésine pas sur l'écho... mais il fera de même sur les Lives. Notons aussi que les soli qu'on entend sont bien ceux enregistrés par Jimi (et ce sur tout l'album). A défaut d'être inoubliable, le résultat est intéressant.

Les pirates nous montrent que "Crash Landing" était un autre titre de Jimi en devenir. Il a d'ailleurs des points communs, tant au niveau du thème (Devon Wilson) que du texte avec "Freedom". Effacer la section rythmique n'était pas en soi une mauvaise idée : Al Marks et Rocky Isaac étaient loin d'être à la hauteur (voir mes chroniques de "Nine To The Universe" et du coffret pourpre).
La prise retenue par Douglas est certainement celle où le chant est le plus convaincant. Celle-ci n'ayant pas de solo, Bongiovi a importé un solo plutôt réussi d'une autre prise mais son mixage est trop soft pour que la sauce prenne parfaitement. Malheureusement, c'est une broutille en comparaison des chœurs féminins rajoutés ici : non seulement ils dénaturent la composition, mais ils massacrent le montage. Dommage...
C'est le seul titre qui n'est jamais ressorti officiellement par la suite.

Après les déclarations de Douglas où il dit tout le bien qu'il pensait de "War Heroes" et de "Loose Ends", il est surprenant de constater qu'il ait retenu "Come Down Hard On Me". D'une part le titre n'était pas inédit, et même s'il n'était pas terminé, il était assez réussi. La version de Douglas est plus funk encore pour certains, limite disco selon d'autres. Pas grand intérêt sauf unifier le son de l'album... et récolter quelques royalties de plus en cosignant le titre !


La face deux s'ouvre avec "Peace In Mississippi", un des rares titres sortis officiellement des sessions aux TTG Studios d'octobre 1968. Dans l'esprit, c'est un montage radicalement différent de ceux de la première face : Douglas a utilisé un instrumental assez extrême de l'Experience, proche d'une jam, pour en faire un instrumental structuré a posteriori. Le résultat est catastrophique. Si dans le contexte de l'Experience, la sauvagerie de la guitare de Jimi fonctionne parfaitement, ça ne colle pas du tout ici : le bassiste a un son de premier de la classe totalement incompatible avec le timbre de Jimi...

Douglas ayant produit certaines sessions du Band Of Gypsys, peut-être cela explique-t-il son indulgence avec la performance de ses musiciens ? "With The Power" ("Power Of Soul" en fait) est relativement peu altérée... mais est sérieusement éditée. Le mixage est là aussi très black (et pas pire que celui de Kramer sur "South Saturn Delta"), mais pourquoi supprimer les superbes parties de guitares que les pirates nous laissent entendre ? La version reste correcte, même si le mixage de Douglas est plat : où est passée l'énergie des bandes originales ?

Rétrospectivement, le titre suivant ("Stone Free Again") est une honte : la seconde version de "Stone Free" enregistrée par l'Experience était magnifique, et rien ne justifiait de la modifier. D'un brûlot rock, Douglas a fait une mollasserie funky...

"Captain Coconut", qui clôt l'album, est une chimère musicale créée à l'origine par John Jansen à partir de 3 séquences musicales complètement distinctes, laissée dans les cartons après une mise au point avec Eddie Kramer : à quoi cela rimait-il de créer un Frankenstein Hendrixien ?
Sans connaître sa provenance, Douglas reprit le montage et le modifia encore à son tour. Le résultat est pathétique.
Il publiera la dernière partie de son "Captain Coconut" en début de "Voodoo Soup" vingt ans plus tard. Et Dagger Records l'intégralité de la fantastique jam dont est extrait le solo.

Au final ? Intéressant pour les curieux, inutile pour la plupart, scandaleux pour les intégristes, "Crash Landing" était un projet ambitieux mais dont le résultat est décevant, surtout avec le recul. Au moment de sa sortie, "Loose Ends" ne laissait rien présager de bon, et la comparaison avec ce dernier n'est pas si catastrophique.
Kramer et Mitchell avaient eux aussi terminé certains titres de Jimi : aujourd'hui encore, leur travail, respectueux du guitariste, est reconnu par ses amateurs. Inversement, le parti pris de Douglas était voué à l'échec, surtout sur le long terme : il est remarquable de constater que "Crash Landing" sonne autrement plus daté que "The Cry Of Love".

Au fil des années, la majorité des titres de "Crash Landing" ont été publiés dans des versions non altérées :

- Message To Love >>> The Jimi Hendrix Experience Box Set (2000) ;
- Somewhere >>> The Jimi Hendrix Experience Box Set (2000) ;
- Crash Landing >>> Inédit en version dédouglassisée ;
- Come Down Hard On Me >>> The Jimi Hendrix Experience Box Set (2000) ;
- Peace In Mississippi >>> Disponible un moment sur "Voodoo Soup" (1995), épuisé ;
- With The Power >>> South Saturn Delta (1997) ;
- Stone Free Again >>> The Jimi Hendrix Experience Box Set (2000)
- Captain Coconut >>> Deuxième partie sur "Burning Desire" (2006), troisième partie sur "Voodoo Soup" (1995), épuisé.

Complément utile : Crash Landing Master Reels & Outtakes

On notera que "Message To Love" n'est pas vraiment différent de la version de "Voodoo Soup"/"The Jimi Hendrix Experience Boxset". Le montage initial de Douglas est commun à toutes les versions.

Deux articles passionnants qui en disent long sur la stratégie de communication d'Alan Douglas au moment de la sortie de "Crash Landing".


Jimi Hendrix Makes A 'Crash Landing' From The Phantom Zone
By Michael Gross
(1975)

Late at night, the cluster of rock neophytes bunched around the portals of Steve Paul's famous club, The Scene, would scatter like mice as Jimi Hendrix flashed out the door and disappeared down the grim streets of New York's Hell's Kitchen. Within minutes of shedding the nifty night­life. his stack-heeled boots would round a cobbled corner and dance into the familiar doorway or the Record Plant. There, night after night, a gang of engineers and friends would perk up at the master's entrance and set the huge recording spools spinning.

For two years before his death, Hen­drix had been quietly recording a new, advanced album, but he died in Lon­don just months before its release. His label, Reprise, would say that intended album was Cry Of Love but it wasn't - or was it Rainbow Bridge or any of the other posthumous releases that soon came out in Jimi's name. Hen­drix made the music, but his manager, Michael Jeffrey, controlled it, and until now, little has been known of what the legendary guitarist really recorded in 1969 and 1970. Now, thanks to jazz buff and Jimi Hendrix confidant Alan Douglas, the true story of Jimi's last musical inspirations will unfold at last on a series of albums for Reprise be­ginning with Crash Landing.

Frustrated Innovator: "Jimi carne to fame through a great, unique and dev­astating pop formula that people loved, "his friend", and now Alan Doug­las' assistant, Ken Shaffer explained as the new disc was being readied for re­lease. "But by the time people heard his music on wax, it was a year and a half after he conceived and recorded it. Michael Jeffrey, Hendrix's manager at the time, was a keen business man. People have called him a heel, but he was protecting his business interests." That interest was in a group consisting of guitarist James Marshall Hendrix, bassist Noel Redding and drummer Mitch Mitchell, whose album, Are You Experienced, sent shock waves through the music business in the late sixties, and unheard of sounds through the ears of Jimi's new, but already rabid fans,

Axis: Bold As Love and the superb two record set, Electric Ladyland, followed quickly, establishing the sound of Hendrix .. Jimi, however, wanted to move on. Late in 1969, Hendrix broke up The Experience, forming a transitional group, Band of Gypsys, with Buddy Miles and Billy Cox. "In '69, when Jimi was on stage with the Band of Gypsys." Shaffer continued, "he would play 'Foxy Lady' and the crowd would simply go ape. Then he'd play something experimental and they'd throw stuff at him." That's when the name-calling started. No one was ready to hear music that made them think, and very few musicians were at his level. Billy Cox and Buddy Miles play­ed the licks he heard, but the band Jimi dreamed of never materialized. So he got away from the bright lights, the business mayhem and the rock and roll crap and just went to the studio. "He disappeared for two years as far as the public was concerned. He played with everybody at that point and made a lot of different kinds of music."

As the audience wondered, Hendrix played for himself and his friends in studios and apartments, Then, in the middle of 1969, he decided it was time to make records again and began look­ing for a producer who wouldn't be constrained by the old formulas. For a long time he'd known Alan Douglas, owner of a small special jazz label, and producer of such giants as John McLaughlin, John Coltrane, Timothy Leary and Billie Holliday. Hendrix, who had been brought up on R&B and jazz, was ready to abandon acid-rock and return to his roots.

Douglas vs. Jeffrey: But Hendrix wasn't completely satisfied with the tracks he'd been doing with Douglas, and though a complete album was in the can, he'd intended to redo a num­ber of the songs which held up the release of the LP. Another problem stood in the way of the Hendrix-Doug­las collaboration besides the intended remix. Hendrix, did not have a con­tract with Reprise Records. Rather, he was owned by the Michael Jeffrey production company, and it was Jeffrey's job to deliver the records. Hendrix never dealt directly with Reprise, Jeffrey knew about Douglas producing Jimi, and those sessions eventually wound up on the posthumous albums released by Jeffrey through Reprise. Tracks like "Stepping Stone," "Isabella" and "Dolly Dagger," originally in­tended for release on the one album he was doing when he died, would, after Jimi's death, be spread thinly across three slices of vinyl.

"The Douglas sessions went on for months and Jeffrey finally got hip to what was going on," Shaffer continued, "Jeffrey got pissed off because an old man (Douglas was in his 40's) was influencing Jimi to play R&B and jazz. Three out of five hours in the studio were nor spent on 'Dolly Dagger', but on strange stuff. So he informally enjoined Douglas from working with Jimi again." There was no court action, but Douglas realized that when push came to shove, Jeffrey could keep him from Hendrix. He made a concession to legality, if not morality, and when the scene got ugly, Douglas walked, remaining Jimi's friend, but no longer twirling his dials. "At that point," Ken went on, "Jimi started getting a little spaced out behind Jeffrey, but he couldn't hold a grudge, he wouldn't fight back, he'd just look at you and go 'WOOF WOOF: literally." "He con­tinued recording on his own, without a producer. In some cases he didn't even listen to the tracks. In others he would get hung up on a lick and overdub for hours." In all. he recorded over 600 hours of 16-track rape, as well as hundreds more hours of 8-track, 4-track and cassette tapes.

"Jimi died in September. 1970. He recorded in The Record Plant before that, and then, in August. about a month before he went to England. he worked in Electric Lady Studios (which he helped design and finance)," For the next few years, rumors would fly about the manner of Jimi's death and his state of mind prior to it. According to Shaffer, Jimi couldn't have felt better. "No one killed Jimi. I know people who were there the night he took the white powder. There's a sense of outrage about it, but he wasn't murdered. He did not kill himself. Rather he died senselessly choking on his own vomit."

Shadows Of The Ghost: "When Jimi died, the tapes were gathered from Electric Ladyland and The Record Plant and Jeffrey sorted through them - close to 1,000 hours in all - in less than two weeks. He came to the conclusion that everything be­sides the one nearly completed LP was no good. They were listening for finished, Experience-type material. That's why they only came up with 'Dolly Dagger.' We spent close to five months doing the same job. The tapes were unmarked, there were no muscians' logs, no dates. Some had Jeffrey's listening notes, On the McLaughlin tapes it said "Jimi with other guitarist - no good." This was even before Cry Of Love came out. They were then put into storage in a warehouse in New Jersey and when Jeffrey died they re­verted to the Hendrix estate, some law­yers, his relatives. The estate controlled by Jimi's family never exercised its artistic control after Jeffrey's death."

The Panamanian Connection: As an estate can only stay in business for a certain amount of time, co-production rights to the warehouse tapes were eventually bought by a Panamanian corporation. They had been evaluated by Jeffrey as worthless, so Jimi's father sold them to the Panamanians, getting a 50-50 cut on any future use of them. The tapes would be stored in the warehouse to this day had not Alan Doug­las, one of the few people even aware of their existence, finally relented to the pressures of his close relationship with Jimi. He'd been approached be­fore, but Douglas would not join in the circus atmosphere of the Hendrix death cult. Then, a year ago, Don Schmitzerle, the general manager of Reprise Records, called Shaffer. He told Ken that he regretted the albums that had been released in Jimi's name by Re­prise, and that the Hendrix estate, along with the Panamanians, had just delivered a new album that was so bad he'd had to reject it. As a fan, Schmitz­erle wanted to know if there was any more good material still in existence. Shaffer got him together with Douglas and the chemistry was finally right. Douglas concluded Schmitzerle would not violate Hendrix any further, and told him about the warehouse tapes. As a sign of good faith Reprise agreed to withdraw several of the posthumous Hendrix albums from release, putting out one album combining just the good material. Douglas knew there was more good material in existence, and proceeded to get permission to release it with the blessings of the estate. He formed Dapaja Productions with the estate and the Panamanian connection, and shipped the tapes to Shaggy Dog Studios in Massachusetts. where the mammoth task of listening, evaluating, editing and, occasionally, overdubbing, was begun.

Tracks Of A Titan: Crash Landing opens with "Message To Love" simply a Hendrix classic. His guitar work is startling, and the vocals are as funky as Hendrix ever got. It is a blockbuster opening to what may soon be acclaimed as Hendrix's finest album. "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" follows, truly a cry for love, a look at desperation, but most importantly, a plea for hope. As Hendrix talk-sings through the song. One gets the feeling he knew what was coming in the world, and a track like this comes at no better time. It's the anguished cry of an almost-beaten op­timist, yet hope is the refrain that runs through its lyrics.

The title cut, a funky rocker with a Creedence/John Fogarty opening fol­lows. As the guitar begins its intricate line, the song strays from simplicity, but it remains a strong rock song. The same is true of "Come Down Hard On Me" which closes the side with a sexy rush.

Side Two opens with "Peace In Mis­sissippi," a song Hendrix wrote when he heard Martin Luther King had been killed, The anger in the track is astounding, as marching feet, blazing guns, war cries, fear and grief combine - not as in "The Star Spangled Ban­ner," where Jimi took off alone, but rather in a tightly controlled, blues­based form. "With The Power," a re­working of an old number originally intended for Cry Of Love, is a guitar showcase that leads with a fierce one-­two punch into "Stone Free Again," another reworking, but so remarkably different from the original that it be­comes a new song. The rhythm track blisters and boils as Hendrix spits out the lyrics of one of his greatest an­thems.

The album closes with "Captain Co­conut," a tribute to sixties psychedelia, with all the accompanying madness, sound effects and head-twisting stereo studio tricks. Pink Floyd might have learned from this track, as they, and most of this generation's stars, learned from the Hendrix legacy. Crash Land­ing is only 30 minutes long in it's en­tirety, but it is the most satisfying half­ hour of Hendrix since Electric Lady­land. The guitar work is superb, and Hendrix's musical accompaniment is unmatched anywhere in the product released during the five years since his death.

Add these new albums to the reality, because they are what Jimi Hendrix was really about. "People thought he was played with like a toy," Shaffer said as he turned off a tape of Hendrix and McLaughlin in his Tangiers decorated living room. "It was all part of the myth. Jimi was smart. He called the shots. But he became bigger than life. He had everything: he was gifted, rich, sexy as hell, and deserving of it all. But he was also "a blank screen" for peo­ples' fantasies." Now Shaffer, Alan Douglas, and Reprise Records intend to color in at least a part of that screen.

More Black Gold

Out of 600 hours of tape, Alan Douglas has culled at least three albums slated for release. The first, Crash Land­ing, is the most accessible, the most like what Hendrix fans already know. With the posthumous albums off the market, a one album collection of their best tracks will also be released. And there's more.

One album side will contain a jam between Hendrix and jazz keyboardist Larry Young. It forecasts such later jazz-rock experiments as Miles Davis' Jack Johnson, McLaughlin's work with Mahavishnu Orchestra, Weather Re­port and Herbie Hancock, and contains some of Hendrix' most incredible gui­tar work ever. Also available, probably for the flipside of the Larry Young tracks, are six tapes made with guitar­ist John McLaughlin. Ken Shaffer described these tapes as "transcendent," and even a short listening confirms that analysis. The McLaughlin tapes have been held up as a result of negotiations with Nat Weiss, John's lawver, who would like them for his own Nemperor label. Therefore, some of these jazz al­bums may be released separately by Weiss.

Warners and Douglas will definitely release an album of Hendrix playing blues - new, standard, and reworked versions of his old songs, entitled Multicolored Blues. If reaction to these three or four albums is good, Douglas will consider the release of live tapes, some of the superstar jam sessions, and other examples of Hendrix's '69-'70 experimental sessions.

Black Gold: Listening to the album, Shaffer was reminded of a strange occurrence that, in a way, capsulizes the rip-off zoo that was Jimi Hendrix until now. A few months ago, during the editing sessions, the phone rang in Douglas' office. A distorted voice on the other end said he had some Hendrix tapes that might interest Douglas. When he said they were in a suitcase, Doug­las knew the voice meant business.

The night Jimi died, his New York apartment had been robbed. His guitars were taken, as was a suitcase that con­tained, among other things, five cas­sette tapes. On those tapes were Jimi's recorded autobiography, made with Douglas in Jimi's apartment. On those tapes, Hendrix, told the story of a space man who came to earth and be­came a rock and roll star. The tapes were titled Black Gold. Douglas' ex­citement was obvious as he spoke to the mysterious caller. Without realizing his mistake, he asked if the suitcase had been stolen from Jimi's apartment. The caller freaked, hung up, and disappear­ed into the ozone. Somewhere out there, those tapes still exist - more of the real Hendrix legacy - and someone has them, locked away from the world in a suitcase that no one would ever recognize.

Le scan de l'article :






THE HENDRIX TAPES
By Dave Marsh
(1975)

Jimi Hendrix died in 1970, leaving behind a fabled Dutchman's Mine of un released music. But unfortunately, the releases since his de­mise in general have been disappointing (Cry of Love), and in some cases, downright shoddy (War Heroes).

But late last year, Hendrix's last producer, impresario Alan Douglas, announced that there was still gold in the Hendrix vault. He estimated that there exists an additional unre­leased 600 hours of Jimi's music. Much of it, even a superficial listening can confirm, is first-rate; some of it, more intense hearings assure, is as good as anything the man ever played.

The first of the new Hendrix records (on Reprise) won't be issued until sometime this year. Not all of the material is complete, and Douglas has some complicated decisions to make concerning what to overdub and what to leave alone. Some of those tapes reviewed here will almost definitely appear on com­mercial records; some of them may never emerge.
The Hendrix tapes fall neatly into two cate­gories: jams and songs. The former are large­ly instrumental, with few vocals, if any. They were made during improvisatory, and gen­erally informal, jam sessions between Jimi and a number of other instrumental virtuosi. Among the other players featured are John McLaughlin, the dynamic young guitar player who was just then assembling the first Maha­vishnu Orchestra; Khalid Yasin (Larry Young), a mainstay, with McLaughlin, of Tony Wil­liams's Lifetime; and such rock guitarists as Johnny Winter, Stephen Stills, Little Feat's Lowell George, and others. The rhythm sec­tion for almost all of the material-songs and jams - is Billy Cox on bass and drummer Buddy Miles, though others sometimes step in. The best of the jams are with McLaughlin and Yasin.

In their raw state, the McLaughlini Hendrix tapes are reportedly ten hours long. They were recorded in 1969 at the Record Plant in New York while Douglas was producing McLaughlin's Devotion LP up­stairs and Hendrix's final formal sessions below. The two master guitarists got together for a variety of dates, mostly following wee­hour sessions. The Yasin tapes were recorded under similar circumstances at about the same time.

McLaughlin and Hendrix prodded each other. McLaughlin was still learning the dif­ferences between acoustic and electric play­ing, and he occasionally plays runs from the standard Chuck Berry-to-Hendrix rock hand­book. Hendrix is capable of responding with jazz licks, and obviously delights in learning from McLaughlin's experience in that idiom. There is much empathy on these sides, few false starts, and once they get started, Mc­Laughlin and Hendrix achieve the sort of in­terplay that producers of supersessions al­ways seek but rarely discover.

The McLaughlin sessions were exploratory ones, while the dates with Yasin were more fully realized. Yasin was a more experienced jazz player than McLaughlin, with a more fully developed black self-consciousness than Hendrix. He must have been an attractive col­league to a man who had nearly been caught playing the role of Black Superstud to white rock America's fantasies. Then, too, Yasin was as interested in discovering the electric properties of his instrument, the organ, as Hendrix was with his guitar. On the tapes, Hendrix never needs to make the kind of elementary rock statement he does with McLaughlin. Freed by Yasin's flowing organ lines, he delves into the stac­cato notes, and the lines overflow with feedback. When Yasin moves to the fore, he uses his organ to build waves of feedback, shooting chords into the midst of them like lightning in a thunderstorm. The ef­fects are occasionally mechanical, but also frequently moving.

Hendrix's tapes with other rock players are less interesting, in part because of the excellence of the McLaughlin/ Yasin dates. In general, the rock dates branch out from basic twelve­bar blues ideas, which Hendrix had probably already outgrown. For rock guitar fans, though, this may be the most interesting material available. If it is clear that Hendrix is never musical­ly challenged, it is equally apparent that he is moved to take some risks with showmanship.

There are three basic subsets among the new Hendrix songs: First, there are stan­dard songs that Jimi adapted to fit his needs. Included among these are a devas­tating seven-minute version of "Gloria," and a slightly sluggish "Hoochie Koochie Man."

Second, there are Hendrix originals, most of them considerably revamped from the ver­sions previously available. "51 st Anniver­sary," for instance, makes it obvious that the take on Smash Hits is nothing more than a preliminary exploration of the tune's possi­bilities. "Stone Free" is also longer and more introspective. Unfortunately, "Isabella" and "Machine Gun," done here as a medley, suf­fer from the same aimlessness that marred them on the Band of Gypsys album, where they first appeared. But when Hendrix de­cides to pen up with a truly tommy-gun spray of "machine gun" notes, the effect is devas­tating.

Third, and most interesting of the Hendrix songs, are his new originals. Some of them, such as "Lover Man," were presented in somewhat bowdlerized versions in earlier posthumous reissues, but several others are completely new. These include "Crash Land­ing," "Somewhere," "New Rising Sun" (a piano/guitar duet of fragile beauty, which Douglas says has lyrics, somewhere), "Any­thing Is Possible," "Messenger," "Peace In Mississippi," "Message to Love," and "Far­ther On Down the Road." The central thrust of the music is toward a more soulful, R&B approach than previous Hendrix rock songs. As always, the lyrics are Dylanesque, half in tribute to the man Hen­drix listed among his greatest influences, and half a result of his own wild imagination.
The greatest of the songs is "Crash Land­ing," which has all the properties Hendrix was famous for, in addition to a biting sense of sarcasm. And, as if the title weren't epitaph enough, he sings, in a chilled voice you'll re­member when the last note has died away:

"I'm going to spank your hand and take away all of those stupid needles - l'm gonna try to make love straight for the very first and last time."

Source : http://crosstowntorrents.org/showthread.php?t=1403

Le scan de l'article :

La chronique de Chris Welch dans le Melody Maker : Un papier plutôt favorable, même si Chris Welch émet quelques réserves.

Un disque qui a fait couler beaucoup d'encre !

Une chronique mesurée signée WalterDigsTunes. A lire :

In 1974, Time magazine ran an article entitled "The Hendrix Tapes." At the end of this bombastic piece, the magazine claimed that "some 600 to 800 hours' worth were shipped off to a warehouse and forgotten. Last spring, having issued three posthumous Hendrix LPs and run out of material, Warner Bros. Records asked a former Hendrix producer, Alan Douglas, if he knew of any other tapes." It seems Douglas did, and he'd even "listened to 250 hours' worth of reels and thinks he has enough stuff for several albums. For now, he is concentrating on five LPs, the first scheduled to be issued in October, so that all who still care can get to know Jimi's kind of music."

Jimi had been gone for four years at this point. Mitch Mitchell and Eddie Kramer had released three posthumous collections of unreleased Jimi tracks. Due to a set of pesky contracts signed by manager Mike Jeffery, Jimi's vision of a double LP was scrapped. By the time War Heroes was released, it was clear that most of Jimi's best compositions had already been released to the public.

The fat cats at the label had a field day as they learned about the Hendrix tapes. Unfortunately, Jimi's close friend Eddie Kramer had no interest in producing and releasing these recordings. Warner Brothers therefore contacted a New York producer called Alan Douglas. Douglas, a wiry hippy with a fake tan that once recorded an inconsequential Hendrix session, was entrusted to make something out of the reels of tape.

Crash Landing was to highlight the direction that Hendrix was heading before he died. At least that's what the label's massive ad campaign tried to convey. In reality, this album documents the ambitions and warped decisions of Alan Douglas. In his twisted world, the original recordings were too raw and messy for release. He firmly believed he had the right to alter Jimi's work in order to make it palatable. In late 1974, he contorted and re-interpreted music recorded in 1968-1970 and made it "fit" into the mid-70s music market.

He was not alone in this endeavor. Engineer Tony Bongiovi (who at one point recorded Hendrix as a junior engineer) was instrumental in this process. Bongiovi and Douglas masterminded a strategy based on editing, splicing, deleting and overdubbing the Hendrix tapes. Yes, you heard right. These two cats summarily deleted Billy Cox, Mitch Mitchell, Noel Redding and Buddy Miles from the tapes. In their stead, listeners were treated to more "precise" and "correct" contributions from studio laureates like Bob Babbit (bass), Alan Schwartzberg (drums) and Jeff Mirinov (guitar). Yeah, they even overdubbed a guitar. On Jimi Hendrix songs. Unbelievable.

And yet, in humble opinion, the final product isn't really all that bad. Really.

See, the great thing about this album is that its aim and the execution coalesced extremely well. The idea behind this release was to show Hendrix's upcoming foray into funk. As such, the song choices and the overdub methods add up to a resoundingly listenable funk album. Though not without its flaws, I can honestly say that the first Alan Douglas album is kind of a cool little record.

The album kicks off with a tune called "Message to Love." We'd heard it in Woodstock, and this studio version is quite focused and complete. The song was later released on The Jimi Hendrix Experience box set, as well as 1995's Voodoo Soup CD (also a Douglas creation). The version released in 1975 is quite similar to the box set version (i.e., the original mix). Why? Because Douglas opted to leave the original musicians on the recording. The mix makes the percussion stand out a bit more and the tune is a wee bit shorter, but overall, it experienced very few edits. Amazingly, the 1995 version features more remixing (half of the background vocals are inexplicably removed!) than the 1975 version. Overall, Douglas was unable to mess with such a good tune.

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Now things get interesting. The original recording is also on the box set, though its title is shortened to "Somewhere." The intro on the 1975 version has some echo and guitar overdubs that manage to breathe life into the limp original. Boasting a different mix and a greater level of energy, this version is a keeper. After the line "And UFOs chuckle themselves," the song gets a spacey guitar overdub that makes Jimi's comment sound more irreverent. A fine idea. That being said, I find it kind of funny that Douglas included this song, as it does contain some prophetic verses: "As far as I know, they might even try to wrap me up in cellophane and sell me..."

The album's title track is a decent funk tune that boasts some bizarre female backing vocals: "Cut me free, cut me free!" Is this another instance of Jimi speaking from beyond the grave? Who knows. Kudos to Schwartzberg, for his funky drumming works quite well on here.

The A-side closes with a song titled "Come Down Hard on Me." This song had already been released as "Come Down Hard on Me Baby" on the European-only Loose Ends. In addition, it showed up as "Come Down Hard on Me" on the 2000 box set. The untampered version boasts some really funky drumming by Mitch Mitchell. Some folks have lambasted the 1975 version for being a "disco" song. Nay, I say. The 1970 original was clearly pointing at funk. The Douglas version is boosted by Allan Schwartzberg's hi-hat patterns. The beat lives on and takes funky new dimensions. It's a very groovy song that shows us how Douglas didn't necessarily have to add too many modifications in order to "update" a Hendrix original.

The B-side is, in my opinion, the weaker half of this record. Why? Because the effortless thematic continuity of the first side has been replaced with an utterly hodgepodge selection of tracks.

"Peace in Mississippi" is a hard rock track that lurches forward at a slow pace and crushes everything that it encounters. It even features some swishy guitar overdubs that sound like Rodan or Mothra. Monstrously great. I reckon that makes the 1975 version just a wee bit cooler than original 1968 track recorded by the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Note: A longer and untampered version can be found on 1995's Voodoo Soup.

"With the Power" is a song that would've fit nicely on the A-side. It's as funky as anything you'll find there. Jimi's nicely wah-wah'd guitar work meshes well with Schwartzberg's drums. The vocals are soulful, and the chorus is great "With the power/Of Soul/Anything is possible." Quite memorable. Note: A longer and unadulterated version can be found on South Saturn Delta.

"Stone Free Again" is based on a 1969 re-recording of a 1967 track. The arrangement and tempo was totally altered. The 1969 version is found on the box set. This 1975 Douglas version erases the Experience's contributions. Compared to the 1969 recording, this song lacks energy. The sessions musicians just don't cut it. In addition, it ruins Jimi's vocals. He sounds like he's recording his vocals in the nearby lavatory. A bit of a let down, actually.

The album closes with "Captain Coconut." In the early 70s, one of Eddie Kramer's subordinates started splicing Jimi material together and came up with this song. He was reprimanded for these actions. Douglas, however, seized upon these tapes and continued the cannibalistic process. Originally labeled "M.L.K.", the edited track was henceforth known as "Captain Coconut." Why? Because no one in the studio could figure out what those three letters stood for. I bet none of them knew what Jimi Hendrix stood for either. Oh well. It's an okay track that functions as an atmospheric psychedelic coda to a pretty funky album. Note: Bits of this tune were used for "The New Rising Sun" on Voodoo Soup, while the entire 20-minute source jam was released as "Ezy Ryder/MLK (aka Captain Coconut)" on Burning Desire.

Overall, this album isn't really all too bad. No, it doesn't compared to the first three Jimi Hendrix Experience albums, or even the first two posthumous albums. But it is a funky little record that shows you just how magical proper edits can be. However, the success of this LP led to the release of another 1975 posthumous album, Midnight Lightning. That one sucks. Hard. Had the best two tracks off Midnight Lightning ("Trashman" and title track) been placed on this LP, Alan Douglas might've been hailed a hero. Or at least less of a cretin. Alas, he didn't. He went for the quick cash-in and even added his name onto the songwriting credits. This LP signals the beginning of a 20 year period in Hendrix history that involved sub-par and generally puzzling releases from the money-grubbing Alan Douglas. It all began here, too. It kinda sucks to know that this neat album is loaded with so many controversial actions.

Alan Douglas... ugh, what a jerk.

Source : http://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/jimi_hendrix/crash_landing/

Chronique dans R&F n°100 de mai 75:

On ne sait pas qui signe cette chronique... invraisemblablement bonne.

Personnellement, je n'ai jamais ne serait-ce qu'écouté un seul morceau de ce disque: la manière de le fabriquer m'a toujours ôté l'envie de considérer ce truc comme une oeuvre de Jimi.
En plus, il contient la preuve (selon moi) que c'est "un faux": la pochette est belle...

Analyse détaillée de François Ducray (enthousiaste!) dans le n°101 de R&F de juin 75:

https://jimihendrix.forumactif.org/t1358p100-la-presse-musicale-francaise-des-annees-60-70#19957

Chronique de J.L. (?) dans Extra de juin 75 (n°1 nouvelle série):

Il s'est pas foulé le JL ! 29 lignes à égrener la liste des musicos sur chaque titre.

Cela dit, la chronique est très positive - vraiment étonnant.

... et voilà la chronique de Best (n° 83 de juin 75): également enthousiaste, Sacha Reins!

"Un album fabuleux"... il est fascinant de voir à quel point la perception de ces enregistrements a évolué au fil des ans.

Objectivement, qui était capable, en 1975 à la sortie du disque, de déceler la supercherie ?

Tu entends quoi exactement par "supercherie" ?

A sa sortie en 1975, il a été considéré comme un nouveau disque de Jimi, présentant des enregistrements inédits, et cela a été renforcé par la présence de titre déjà connus, parce que déjà sortis en live, comme "Message To Love" ou "With The Power" sur BOG.

Il a été directement classé sur la même étagère que les LP de l'Experience, et de "Rainbow Bridge" ou de "Cry Of Love", sans chercher à connaître la provenance des enregistrements.

C'est en tous cas le souvenir que j'ai de la réaction de mon père, de mon oncle et de leur entourage de l'époque, qui étaient absolument ravis d'avoir "un nouveau disque de Jimi Hendrix", même s'ils se rendaient bien compte que les fonds de tiroirs avaient été raclés.

Nous émettons des réserves sur VON, sur le titre "Valley Of Neptune" qui est bidouillé de partout, mais la plupart des gens s'en foutent, et, encore une fois, parmi tous les acheteurs ou auditeurs, qui est capable de s'apercevoir où sont les chansons fabriquées ?

Comme je l'ai déja dit, les amateurs de Jimi (comme moi) savaient que c'était un truc ré-enregistré avec des types qui n'avaient jamais joué avec Jimi. Que donc c'était un produit fabriqué avec de la matière première de Jimi, mais pas avec son esprit.

L'article de Benoit Feller et la chronique de Sacha Reins montrent (à mon avis) qu'ils étaient heureux d'entendre la voix et la guitare de Jimi dans un contexte proche des enregistrements nobles de Jimi, après avoir vu défiler tous les sous-produits arnaqués de Curtis Knight et compagnie.

Pour ma part, je n'ai toujours pas écouté ces enregistrements. A tort ou à raison.

upfromtheskies a écrit:

L'article de Benoit Feller et la chronique de Sacha Reins montrent (à mon avis) qu'ils étaient heureux d'entendre la voix et la guitare de Jimi dans un contexte proche des enregistrements nobles de Jimi, après avoir vu défiler tous les sous-produits arnaqués de Curtis Knight et compagnie.

C'est un point intéressant à souligner. Alors que je me suis toujours refusé à acheter les albums de Knight et Youngblood où officie (parfois seulement !) Jimi, j'ai écouté à maintes reprises les deux albums produits de la sorte par Douglas. Le nombre de "véritables" enregistrements officiels de Jimi en studio fut longtemps réduits. Même si ce n'était pas le top, cela permettait d'entendre autre chose, qui comparativement aux albums de Knight et Youngblood, sonnait presque comme du Jimi Hendrix. Dès lors que les versions non remaniées ont commencé à voir le jour, il est évident que l'avis qu'on pouvait avoir sur ces disques n'allait pas s'améliorer...

upfromtheskies a écrit:

Pour ma part, je n'ai toujours pas écouté ces enregistrements. A tort ou à raison.

Je ne suis pas sûr qu'en 2012, Crash Landing présente encore un quelconque intérêt. Historiquement, il permet toutefois de comprendre ce que Douglas & co ont tenté de faire.

Un newbie qui aime bien "Captain Coconut" peut-il survivre sur ce forum ?  
Je sais bien que ce n'est qu'un "cadavre exquis" (sic) de 3 "morceaux" différents, mais j'ai toujours aimé le résultat (je vais me cacher). La fin du morceau me frustrait plutôt, je voulais que la partie "The New Rising Sun" (le morceau qu'on retrouve sur "Voodoo Soup") dure plus longtemps en fait.

J'ai vu ce CD présenté dans un prospectus d'hypermarché en 94 (un visuel pour une série mid-price qu'ils vendaient), je ne l'avais pas encore, et je pense que ça devait être juste avant qu'il soit retiré du catalogue. Je me souviens être devenu dingue peu de temps après en cherchant dans le bac Hendrix du même magasin, dans l'espoir de tomber sur un exemplaire en promo, sauf qu'il n'y était plus du tout (et pour cause!). Quelques temps après, j'apprenais qu'il avait retiré du commerce en lisant le spécial Hendrix de Rock n' Folk !

jimitree a écrit:

Un newbie qui aime bien "Captain Coconut" peut-il survivre sur ce forum ?  

Bien sûr... puisque que tu aimes la musique de Jimi.

Bienvenue, jimitree!

Merci  
Ca fait des mois et des mois que je fréquente ce forum en lecture simple, j'en adore le contenu, les scans...Il va me falloir du temps pour répondre à tous les topics qui m'ont interpellé !

Bienvenue sur le forum. Parmi les anciens, beaucoup ont apprécié cet album. Depuis que les versions brutes sont apparues, la plupart ont relativisé le travail de Douglas et Bongiovi : celui de producteurs livrant leur interprétation de ces 8 titres. D'autres producteurs auraient certainement présenté une meilleure copie !

Bienvenue ici !