Twist and Shout

Well, shake it up, baby, now
Twist and shout
C'mon c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, now 
Come on and work it on out

Well. There 'tis.

Ohio/Machine Gun

One of the things most remarked upon about the amazing if relatively brief lifespan of the Beatles is just how much they progressed and developed over that time, going from, essentially, a boy band prototype and Motown-worshipping cover artists to...well, the band that recorded Revolver, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and Abbey Road, all in about seven years.

Some other artists have made somewhat similarly unexpected transitions: Genesis went from insanely arty prog-rockers to stadium-filling classic rock pop stars. The Bee Gees went from a sorta kinda second wave British Invasion band to disco superstars. Eric Clapton from desperately impassioned young bluesman to country wannabe to soft-rock glider. Bob Dylan went from being Robert Zimerman to Bob Dylan to the new Bob Dylan to the newer Bob Dylan to the newer yet Bob Dylan and about seven more transitions and we're still only up to 1975's Blood on the Tracks and he's barely warmed up.

But has anyone ever had the longevity, breadth and extended excellence of the Isley Brothers?

They went from this

(which, hey, is a pretty sweet career all on its own)

to this

to this

(and, yes, I know "That Lady" is obviously the bigger hit off this same album, but I like this one better)

in the span of the span of 14 years. And it was still nearly another half-decade before they even started to run out of steam. That's pretty hardcore.

Lay Lady Lay

We know Bob Dylan loved what Elvis Presley and Jimi Hendrix had done to his songs. I've love to know what he thought of what this Isley Brothers cover.

I like Bob's version just fine—I used to love it, but the vocal style he tried out for a while just doesn't work for me any longer, and yes, I get the irony in preferring Bob Dylan's earlier and later vocals to his briefly used croon. But the Isleys just make this their own in a way very few artists could, only tweaking the arrangement and melody ever so slightly, yet throwing down the gauntlet to the singer-songwriters of the day, showing they were more than capable of playing on anyone's turf, and underling just what an amazing band they were, even after their initial heyday and before guitar whiz Ernie officially joined. It's a tiny bit longwinded, sure, but when the mood's this intoxicating, who's really going to complain?

Summer Breeze

I had no idea this was coming. I'd bought the Isley Brothers album 3+3 because (I think) it'd been recommended in the book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, and I was looking to fill gaps in my education. And did this ever.

I saw the song title, I suppose, but I did all my listening in those days while commuting, so I rarely had time to do more than glance at the CD cover. But even if I did see the title, I doubt I really expected this great R&B/soul/funk band to take on the (admittedly, beloved) soft-rock wimpfest.

I was very, very wrong.



Makes me feel very, very fine.