Published on Nov 23, 1998
How much doctoring can you do to an album before you can’t call
it a live album?
I have heard numerous stories about some of my favorite “live”
albums that have had significant re-work in the studios — so many
stories that I’d prefer not to listen them, lest they ruin the
images I have, good or bad, of the albums. And I have read a few
other reviewers (even ones whose credibility — or at least
research — isn’t the greatest… you know who you are) calling
into question how much work has been done on
Double Live, the first live outing from country superstar
Garth Brooks.
Even before I read those reviews, I wondered myself. While there
are many entertaining moments on this two-disc set (which, in one
hell of a marketing move, features different covers for each
million discs produced… my disc is the “Reunion Arena”
packaging), there are times when the whole experience sounds
unnatural.
Normally, on a live album, you hear the crowd fade in just
before the music kicks off. But on this one, the crowd doesn’t come
into play until the first set of chords on “Calling Baton Rouge”
are strummed – warning sign number one. Were this the only
occasion, I wouldn’t say much — after all, it’s the first fifteen
seconds of the album, how big of a deal could that be? Ah, but it’s
not the only instance. “We Shall Be Free” opens with what
sounds like a studio rehearsal, and doesn’t bring the crowd into
the picture for some time — warning sign number two. Likewise, on
“Two Pina Coladas,” the sounds of the beach are what kick off the
song, and the crowd is left behind until the song gets cooking —
warning sign number three.
I will, however, stop short of accusing Brooks and crew of
overdubbing crowd noise onto the songs; judging from some of the TV
specials I’ve caught glimpses of, I’d dare to say that’s pretty
legitimate. (I also won’t accuse anyone of overdubbing musical
parts – though if they did, it’s seamless.)
And while I can appreciate the fact that the material on these
two discs was recorded over a long span of time, the cardinal sin
of live albums is committed: fade-outs between some tracks. (To
producer Allen Reynolds’s credit, this isn’t the case for the whole
album.) When I listen to a live album, I want it to feel like I am
front-row center of the action – and I have
never been to a concert where all the sound was faded out in
between songs.
As for the performances themselves, Brooks shows often that he
is a showman at heart, eager to give his audience their money’s
worth in the music and the excitement levels. Tracks like “The
Beaches Of Cheyenne,” “Papa Loved Mama” and “That Summer” stand out
among the material contained in these 25 songs. (Just asking: Does
Brooks suffer from triskaidekaphobia? Where the hell is track 13 —
what’s this six seconds of audience cheering nonsense?) And I do
take some devious pleasure in hearing an obscenity in the “hidden”
third verse of “Friends In Low Places” — even though I still
prefer the studio version.
But no matter how charged the crowd is or how much Brooks tries
to pump us up, some of the material falls flat on
Double Live. Tracks like “Standing Outside The Fire” and “If
Tomorrow Never Comes” might be crowd-pleasers live, but it just
does not translate that well to the live album. The problem is that
the album does not stand up to repeated listenings — I know, I
tried listening to this disc several times. By the third time
through this album, don’t be surprised if you find your attention
span to be short.
Oh, it’s not that Brooks put out a bad album with
Double Live, but it’s an incomplete picture of what the man
is capable of (this coming from someone who’s never seen Brooks
perform live). But had less attention been paid to studio trickery
and more attention paid to making a cohesive, interest-grabbing
souvenir of a Brooks live show, then
Double Live could have been the best concert album ever
recorded. Instead, it falls in the same traps that most live albums
I’ve heard do — and that’s a damned shame.