Gnawing on the bones of Hendrix

Jimi Hendrix has a ‘new album’ out. I hate it and I haven’t even heard it yet.

I’m a lifelong Hendrix fan. Ever since I heard his interpretation of The Star-Spangled Banner I was hooked. My initial response upon hearing it was “I didn’t realise that was allowed”. I had a tape of his performance at the Isle of White Festival in 1970 and the entire performance re-engineered what little I understood of music. I put Hendrix on a par with Aphex Twin or Squarepusher for experimentation. There are just some sounds which nobody else has ever made before that just leap out at you and remind you that you’re alive and that life is actually very interesting. The distorted screams and moans he would make with his strat echoed the pubescent confusion I was feeling at the time. And even now they still root out emotions that don’t often see the light of day.

That aside, this ‘new album’ is a collection of studio outtakes, jams and cover versions that has been chucked together by Jimi’s step-sister Janie. Janie was adopted by Jimi’s father Al, who died in 2002. Jimi’s brother Leon was written out of the will by Al shortly before his death. It seems that this kind of in-fighting and wrangling goes hand-in-hand with the legacy of dead rock stars. Especially those, such as Jimi, who died tragically early and unexpectedly, without the foresight to create their own will.

Hendrix only actually completed 3 studio albums in his short career (he died at 28). But each one is crafted into a complete body of work which tells a unique and original story. This ‘new album’, titled ‘Valleys of Neptune’ tells a story, but it’s a story based on lies. It’s a mishmash of stuff that I can’t believe Hendix or anyone else in the Jimi Hendrix Experience would have blessed, if they were alive.

I’m not against these type of collections at all. The lie is in the marketing. The title track suggests it’s from some tape that Eddie Kramer found down the back of the sofa in the reception at Electric Ladyland studios, but which they were just too stoned to release. And just for you it’s been remasted into a deluxe package with horrifying digital clarity. Bullshit. Why not simply call it Scraps of Hendrix’ or ‘The Stuff Hendrix Wouldn’t Dream of Releasing’. I thought the same thing about Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk, a collection of crap that Jeff Buckley wouldn’t have released if you’d paid him millions but which got chucked out by his estate once he’s brown bread.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some really good deep-dives into aspects of Hendrix that are worth a listen – Blues is exactly that. It was another posthumous release but simply collates many of the very bluesy recordings, jams and live performances he did. It tells a story, an honest story. And if you want to experience his live work, try Live at Monterey and Live at Berkeley. And if you want to hear the Hendrix BBC Sessions, well, listen to that, there’s a bum note on Manic Depression that has to be the most glorious and beautiful bum note I’ve ever heard.

This isn’t the first of these cheesy-titled anathemas, avoid First of the The New Rising Sun (much of which isn’t even in tune) and South Saturn Delta. There’s a reason why these things weren’t released when Hendrix was alive. Elbow call it demo-itis. It’s when you demo a song, send it to your friends, family and A&R people, they love it, then you develop it more. The problem is, nobody likes any other version than the one you sent them in the first place, even if you recorded it in your bedroom on a TASCAM 4-track. Most bands are pretty careful about what they put out. It’s only in death that they begin to lose control. They stop being able to tell their own story.

If you want to get into Hendrix, listen to Are You Experienced, Axis: Bold as Love and then Electric Ladyland, in that order. Ovoid anything that has the name of a planet in its title, it is probably shit.

Image credit: designerfake