Tom Jones, “Surrounded By Time” Review

Photo by ME, Brian Yaeger, at Jazz Fest 2019. Oh yeah.

This past April, Tom Jones—sorry…Sir Tom Jones (but I like to call him ToJo) who just turned 81—released yet another stunning album. Surrounded By Time is, quite simply, a masterpiece. Which you’d expect me to say since I’m the guy who ironically went to see him in concert in 1995 (tickets were $7.50), but has since seen him nearly a dozen more times unironically because that first show converted me into a TJ stan. The album he was supporting back then had the massive hit single “If I Only Knew,” or at least it was in Europe, which is why I heard it in heavy rotation in my dorm room during part of my junior year abroad.

He has released eight albums since then and with the exception of 2002’s Wyclef Jean-produced hip hop inflected album (no foolin’), Mr. Jones, each subsequent record surpasses its predecessor and likewise, each subsequent concert I proclaim the best one I’ve seen. (Well, his set at the New Orleans Jazz Fest in 2011 was my favorite set list.) OK, Surrounded By Time isn’t better, per se, than its trilogy of prior discs—Praise & Blame’s bluesygospel, Spirit in the Room’s bluesy folk, and Long Lost Suitcase’s blue-eyed blues—but these last four were produced by Ethan Johns who, it can be said, has done for ToJo what Rick Rubin did for Tom’s old friend Johnny Cash with their American series that saw the Man in Black covering the eclectic likes of Beck, Bono, Danzig, and Depeche.

“Singers are like actors,” said the Welsh Wonder recently. “You don’t have to write the script…in order to make it great or to give it your own interpretation.” This is why I struggle to call Tom’s songs covers. And almost every song he has ever recorded was written by someone else, from his early hit “What’s New Pussycat” by Burt Bacharach to his golden comeback, “Kiss.” Incidentally, June 7 wasn’t just Tom’s 81st birthday; it would’ve been Prince’s 61.

Treatments, reimaginations, recreations, interpretations, or, though it’s a dirty word, appropriations. And in many cases, augmentations. I have two concrete theories about “covers.”  Firstly, it’s impossible to cover a Beatles song poorly because at their base they’re perfectly structured pop songs. And secondly, Jones can make even the worst song great; his reimaginations are habitually ameliorations. Take “The Reason” by Hoobastank, written by their then-28-year-old-singer. I hated that song largely because the kid had no life experience so I didn’t believe him. But when I heard Sir Tom sing it (the one and only time I saw him in Vegas, baby), the lyrics rang true. “I’m sorry that I hurt you/ It’s something I must live with everyday/ And all the pain I put you through/ I wish that I could take it all away/ And be the one who catches all your tears/ That’s why I need you to hear/ I’ve found a reason for me/ To change who I used to be.” It’s no secret that the man who’s had more knickers tossed at him than Victoria’s Secret has ever sold wasn’t faithful to his wife, Linda, who he married when the 16-year-olds had their first kid.

Decades later, when Linda was dying of lung cancer, Tom proclaimed he doubted he’d ever be able to perform or record again. According to his account, from her deathbed in 2016 she insisted he find the strength. The first track on his first album since then is “I Won’t Crumble With You if You Fall” by Bernice Johnson Reagon. While Reagon is a Civil Rights activist and was lead vocalist behind the a cappella folk group The Freedom Singers, the song becomes an homage to Tom’s now-late wife, almost as if it were a sequel to the uber-rare Jones-penned original, “The Road” from 2008’s 24 Hours.

The largest departure on this album is that in lieu of a big, tight, brassy band (like his co-headlined disc with Jools Holland), many of the tracks are sparse, avant garde, and atmospheric, yet still theatrical (“The Windmills of Your Mind,” “Ol’ Mother Earth,” “Lazarus Man.”). Several cuts are trance-like electronica. In some ways, it harkens back to his collab with the Art of Noise, absent that bombasticness. And if I think back to the last time I saw him in 2019, he hinted at this with his performance of his compulsory chestnut, “What’s New Pussycat.”  It basically it sounded like the organ music you hear on a merry-go-round. It was just such an oddball curveball (Thunderball) type of delivery. It was, like this entire album, transportive.

His best offerings are indeed the songs that seem autobiographical. A staple of his late-era live show has become Howlin’ Wolf’s “Two Hundred Pounds,” altered only slightly since, to hear Tom intone and baritone it, “See? Howlin’ Wolf wrote it as Three Hundred Pounds. Because he was 300 pounds. But I sing Two Hundred Pounds because I am 200 pounds.” And then he goes bass, “Of heavenly joy.” When he sings Leonard Cohen’s “Tower of Song,” I simply refuse to accept that Cohen didn’t pen it FOR Tom with lyrics like, “I was born like this/ I had no choice/ I was born with the gift of a golden voice/ And twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond/ They tied me to this table right here in the Tower of Song.”

On Surrounded, Tom takes mostly-unknown tracks by well-known artists as well as wholly-unknown tracks by little-known artists. I’d only caught wind of The Waterboys because I like a lot of the pan-UK-folk/rock bands that followed in their wake a la Flogging Molly. Their original, “This is the Sea,” is a fine, even rousing bar-room sing-a-long. In ToJo’s hands, it’s an organic, organ-fueled ballad with a one-man Gospel Tabernacle choir. Churchy!

Tom takes Cat Stevens’ 1970-song “Popstar” and makes it his 2021-own.

Same with Todd Snider’s “Talking Reality TV Blues” from 2019. Said Snider, “Snider says, “Tom Jones is as great as a singer as there has ever been,” adding, “I prefer his version of the song to my own.” Regardless of who’s singing, the lyrics are a think-piece set to a talking blues. It’s a parable, really. At first it warns of the early dangers of television and how video killed the radio star. Wait til you hear the part about the video star. But the gut-punch is the last verse. “Then a show called The Apprentice came on and pretty soon/ An old man with a comb-over came along and sold us the moon/ And we stayed tuned in now here we are/ Reality killed by a reality star.”

It’s the first time I can conjure up where Tom gets political. But then he does it a beat later, or five tracks later, with “Ol’ Mother Earth.” The song was originally written and recorded by a dude named Tony Joe White in 1973. “And now the ones that you have loved/ Are taking you for granted/ Here they’re so enchanted/ By the progress they can make/ They never stop to think/ Just how much that you can take.” It’s like if Greta Thunberg just wrote it.

He takes Bob Dylan’s “One More Cup of Coffee” and does with it, well, much like he did with “What Good Am I?” in 2010 and “When the Deal Goes Down” in 2012 (making this his third Dylan cover over his last four albums). Dylan gave these songs a voice. Jones gives them vocals.

But the show-stopper is actually the disc’s penultimate track, a melancholic yet candid song called “I’m Growing Old” with only a pensive piano as accompaniment. A funny story I just heard is that its writer, Bobby Cole, tried to get the 26-year-old Jones to sing it the year he received a Grammy for Best New Artist! It’d have been like Hoobastank singing about learning the life lessons of a wizened showman. But today, 55 years later, Jones delivers the dark ballad’s lines as if he’s telling Linda to get ready for him. “I’m growing fonder of the fire/ I’m growing mindful of the cold/ I’m growing wise/ I’m growing, yes/ I’m growing old.”

Regardless of the music, his entire oeuvre has been a showcase for his deep, rich voice. The stuff of Mahogany and Corinthian leather. What Surrounded lacks in range it has a deluge of gravitas. With the added storytelling, it makes Surrounded damn near a concept album, The tracking or sequencing is amazing. It harkens back to his early days (his first #1 single, “It’s Not Unusual,” came out in 1964). It also transforms some older material and makes it sound new but also takes new material and gives it a Greenwich Village art house touch where I feel like I should snap to show my appreciation. Then it ends with a retro-futuristic song called “Lazarus Man” by the late soul/jazz musician Terry Callier that simultaneously places Jones in decades past, in biblical times, and in Max Headroom’s 20 minutes in the future.. It paints a portrait of an artist who’s at once past time, show time, surrounded by time, and external to it. On the very sad day of his eventual passing, when the media and most people will want to memorialize him by playing “She’s a Lady,” we ought to put on headphones and realize his music will never die because He’s a Lazarus Man.

The Session #118: Who You Gonna Invite?

sessionThe Session creator Stan Hieronymus first launched this beer blogging exercise in 2007. For his third time hosting, he poses the question “Who you gonna invite?” More specifically, “If you could invite four people dead or alive to a beer dinner who would they be? What four beers would you serve?” He then added, “To participate, answer these questions Dec. 2 in a blog post (or, what the heck, in a series of tweets).” Not one to be known for my punctuality, I picked up the gauntlet of tweeting or microblogging over a series of 16 tweets (below). Since, let’s be honest, if you don’t say it on Twitter, you might as well be the tree that falls in a lonesome woods. My responses are no #pizzagate, but hopefully they’ll find a few readers nonetheless. At least I can promise these are not fake.

(This one above was even “liked” by Golden Road’s Twitter!)

Over a Pint with Bolt Minister of 54-40 Brewing

As a beer writer who really writes about people, the idea for this Over a Pint series (for me and all beer bloggers who’d like to join in on last Mondays) is to go out for some beers with a brewer and have a conversation beyond the parameters of what’s going on in the world of beer. Sort of in the vein of The Session but with just two instructions.

  1. Head out with someone who brews for a living and talk to them over a pint (or more) without recording it or taking any notes. Just chat. About stuff.
  2. Don’t do it at the brewery’s pub or tasting room.

Let’s begin.

Name: Bolt Minister

Brewery: 54-40 Brewing coming soon to Washougal, WA

Professional brewing experience: Philadelphia’s, Pyramid, Astoria Brewing, Rock Bottom-Portland, Walking Man, Old Town.

Follow Bolt at @vivalagoldens. He just like Golden Retrievers.

Follow Bolt at @vivalagoldens. He just like Golden Retrievers.

In deciding where to go with Bolt, he expressed an interest in several new-ish places because he wanted to get a feel for how Portland-proper watering holes do what they do considering he needed pointers on how to design his own forthcoming tasting room. The Clark County, Washington native is finally going, or rather, staying home. The last nine years have taken Bolton on a brewer’s odyssey, beginning at Philadelphia’s. Not in Philly, but the neglected Philadelphia’s Cheesesteaks brewpub in Sellwood (that just expanded and rebranded as 13 Virtues). Oh wait, did I just sneak in Bolt’s full name? Yep, he’s descended from a line of Bolton Ministers.

Moving on, he later brewed at three other Portland breweries not to mention Astoria Brewing, a.k.a. the Wet Dog Saloon, which is naturally in Astoria. The dude commuted to that beautiful northwest corner of the state every day (sometimes only six days a week). Around two hours each way. He kindly invited me to do a pro-am beer with him for the WW Pro/Am Beer Fest called IPYae. (It was, naturally, an IPA, named for my son Izzy, and featured a double hop addition of Zeus in the middle and an OG of 1.0612 since his b-day is Jan. 6, 2012).

That was the day I first gleaned he was conspiring to bring it all home. It didn’t hurt that he’d first bring hom some serious hardware in the form of two GABF medals (fresh hop gold for his pale ale in ’13 and then silver for his Kolsch in ’14 plus a pair of World Beer Cup medals that year including the Kolsch again.) But now he is striking out on his own to open 54°40′ Brewing in Washougal, Wash. His wife Amy, and son Fletcher—quite the little pistol—will be happy to have Daddy the journeyman return home.

And I’m sorry to say, but the Vancouver area needs him. I haven’t had every beer from Washington’s slice of Portland Metro, but I’m confident his brewery will raise the bar. Which brings me to the bar we went out for beers at. We hit Oregon Public House to see how a serious public house can also be kid-friendly without feeling like a slice of Chuck E. Cheese.

In Bolt’s honor, I drank all Washington all night. I started with the Loowit Exbeerestrial ESB (a solid British bitter), then moved on to Everybody’s Sprinkle American Sour (a quite respectable, lactic, hibiscus-accented ale), and finished with a dry cider from Tieton Cider Works. Great, I’ve forgotten what Bolt had, but I know the ESB was in there. As evidenced by his dual wins for his Kolsch, he’s super into easy-drinking beers, adhering to the motto, “Brew what you like and like what you brew.”

His approach to brewing is both visceral and cerebral. He said once he fires up his brand new brew kettles, patrons generally won’t find beers over 5.5% ABV. And no, that’s not his ISA; that’s gonna be his IPA. He talked about stuff even the beer nerds will geek out over. Y’know, like a Dortmunder. I’m not entirely sure he and I know the same beer nerds.

Having said that, he has a wild hair to create some flashy stuff for festivals and the like. And this is where I’m sure he’ll consistently draw Portlanders to venture north of the river. But out of self-interest, I’m going to start with a story from the first time I met up with Bolt at Old Town Brewing. A host or someone mentioned to me that Bolt was organizing a tribute fest to Tom Jones since the legendary singer had just died. SAY WHAT!?! If Tom Jones had died, I’d have heard about it. But the guy was adamant: Tom Jones died and Old Town was putting on a beer fest as a sort of wake.

Old Town Brewing poster

Old Town Brewing poster

As country music fans and anyone who watches The Voice UK knows, it was the Possum, George Jones who passed on and the Voice himself, Sir Tom Jones, remains very much awesome and kicking. The George Jones Tribute Beer Fest itself was a kick, presented as sort of a wake to one of Bolt’s favorite musicians. Bolt loves country. Real country; not this pap they do in Nashville and Hollywood today. He also digs on the ToJo. We are going to organize a Tom Jones Living Tribute Beer Fest sooner than later. I’ve seen TJ roughly a dozen times in concert. Bolt has seen him once, but has an infinitely better story than any of mine.

Vegas. Circa turn of the 21st century. Bolt and his then-ladyfriend are in line to see him at the MGM Grand where he does these two-week-long runs. A frequent opener is the comedian Max Alexander, who Bolt recognizes on his way into the theater. Max is so pleased, he arranges front row seats. Next to Craig Ferguson. After the show, alongside Max, he and his gal got to meet Sir ToJo who went to shake Bolt’s hand (so I’ve now shaken the hand of the hand that shook Tom Jones’s hand), but TJ shook it off quickly to give Bolt’s more attractive companion a smooch. No. By my earlier transitive properties I saw no reason to try and give Bolt a peck. That evening, some 15 or so years ago, turned into a great night of hanging out with Tom, his band, and an unsated desire Tom expressed to hear some live jazz.

We have another fest idea we’ll pull together even sooner. Given our love of the Dukes of Hazzard (and Bolt is a fan of Waylon Jennings, the country singer who performs the theme song), 54°40′ will host the inaugural Duke the Halls, a holidays in Hazzard County themed beer fest! Although Roscoe’s would be a good venue for obvious reasons. Bolt has other ideas, I’ll just say this for now—Nick Cage themed beers—but we are family men and our night at the Oregon Public House had to come to a close so we could help get our sons ready early the next morning. When 54°40′ Brewing with his new partner, Charlie Hutchins, who was also his brewing partner back at Rock Bottom, opens, luckily he’ll still be able to spend more time with his family since he finally won’t have far to commute.