Gene Vincent's last albums -- If Only You Could See Me Today and The Day the World Turned Blue -- found him bidding to revive a status he'd achieved with his mid-'50s hit "Be-Bop-A-Lula." These releases tackled different styles to varying success, with inconsistent material being the main problem. The oddest and worst tracks are "Slow Times Comin'" and "Tush Hog," which take nearly 16 minutes between them; they're decently sung, but overwhelmed by clichéd, meandering wah-wah guitar solos. "Danse Colinda" is an equally ill-advised stab at Cajun music, while "Our Souls"' title gets twisted into a venomous dig at former manager Don Arden. Off-kilter arrangements spoil other tracks, such as the eccentric monologue shoehorned between the verses of "There Is Something on Your Mind" or the abrupt collapse of Vincent's galloping country-rock original, "The Woman in Black." The least-contrived moments work best; his aching remake of "500 Miles Away from Home" suggests that Vincent could have carved out a niche in country music, had he wanted it. Though less vocally powerful than his mid-'50s peak, Vincent was still a forceful interpreter of R&B (Brook Benton's "Looking Back on My Life") and his beloved rockabilly (Carl Perkins' "Boppin' the Blues"). And, though he only wrote or co-wrote 20 tracks, Vincent wasn't a bad songwriter, either. Five of them are on these albums, including "Geese," a sorrowful look at life behind bars, while "The Day the World Turned Blue" s a bittersweet salute to fallen rock & roll pioneer Buddy Holly. With better material and production choices, Gene Vincent's twilight era could have ended on a more upbeat note; this compilation supports the old adage of talent shining through regardless of setting. In 2008, Rev-Ola reissued these albums under the title A Million Shades of Blue. ~ Ralph Heibutzki & Al Campbell, All Music Guide
Was this particular comeback record something to be proud of? Not really. Recorded in 1969 for famed British DJ John Peel's Dandelion label and released the following year, it did feature some notables of the late-'60s Hollywood rock scene, including Skip Battin of the Byrds (on bass), Red Rhodes (on Dobro), Mars Bonfire (rhythm guitar), Jim Gordon (drums), and Linda Ronstadt (backing vocals), with Kim Fowley producing. But there was something of a rehash feel about the whole enterprise, which was short on new quality material, and heavy on reworkings of oldies like George Jones' "White Lightning," Dion/the Drifters' "Ruby Baby," and Bobby Day's "Rockin' Robin." There were also remakes of Vincent's own '50s hits "Be-Bop-a-Lula" and "Lotta Lovin'" that couldn't hope to displace the originals. The heavier late-'60s rock feel of the arrangements doesn't jibe well with Vincent's style, though some cuts boast a countrified touch (particularly the ones featuring Rhodes), and Vincent himself often sounds a little shaky and nervous on the vocals. The entire album has been reissued as the dominant part of the 2003 Hux CD White Lightning, which adds four tracks from a 1971 BBC session. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
Virtually everything on Gene Vincent's final EMI album, Shakin' Up a Storm, is superb, representing some of his best rock & roll from a decade in which he went years between albums. Cut with the backing group the Shouts and released only in England, Shakin' Up a Storm is an unusual record, containing elements of the burgeoning Merseybeat sound and soft-rock covers of country songs. The album (which has been reissued as part of EMI's 100th Anniversary series, in glittering 24-bit sound) starts off well with a raucous "Hey Hey Hey," fueled by the fiery saxwork of Jim Field. It then switches gears on "Lavender Blue," a soft ballad that was more Elvis Presley's speed (though Vincent does surprisingly well, singing as softly as he knows how), before launching into the rockabilly-style "Private Detective," on which Tim Bates' lead guitar shines. "Shimmy Shammy Shingle" is a thumping number that, with a heavier bass sound, could've passed for a Liverpool-style rocker, and "Someday (You'll Want Me to Want You)" is a decent cover of a pop standard. Vincent's abilities as an R&B singer -- showcased on his magnificent 1963 single "Where Have You Been All My Life" -- are highlighted several times on Shakin' Up a Storm, most notably on a cover of Sam Cooke's "Another Saturday Night," on which Vincent's voice is richly expressive and the mix of rhythm guitar and organ accompaniment adds a nice, new wrinkle to the song. "Slippin' & Slidin'," featuring Bates' rippling lead guitar and a great vocal performance from Vincent, is a stomping rocker that could've passed for a first-rate Merseybeat track. Vincent also does well with "Send Me Some Lovin'," which allows him to stretch out vocally in front of a sax and rhythm guitar arrangement. "Love Love Love," with its multi-tracked vocals and bouncy rhythm guitar part, sounds like a direct attempt to emulate the Merseybeat sound. It opens a series of songs that ought to have given Vincent's detractors pause; he might not have charted a record in a couple of years when this album was issued -- even in England -- but he could still generate exciting music in almost any rock & roll idiom. "Baby Blue," co-authored by Vincent and featuring pounding support by the Shouts, sounds like it was snatched straight out of one of Gene's 1957 sessions. The producers could've ended Shakin' Up a Storm with the blazing "Suzie Q," but instead they threw on one more number, a hard-rocking rendition of Jimmie Davis' "You Are My Sunshine." Featuring Victor Clarke's heavy drumming, Field's honking sax, and a hot performance by organist Erik Baker, the song nonetheless belongs to Vincent, who transforms this country-pop classic into a serious rock & roll screamer. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
By the time of the December 1957 sessions that made up this, his third album, Gene Vincent's band had changed radically from its original lineup, with drummer Dickie Harrell the only original member (and even he wasn't long for the lineup). Johnny Meeks was the lead guitarist, and while he was a good player, he wasn't the kind of wildly inventive talent that Cliff Gallup had been; Meeks also had a cleaner sound, with none of the dark, almost dirty, blues-style licks that Gallup traded in. New rhythm guitarist Max Lipscomb (who later changed his professional name to Scotty McKay) doubled on piano, the first time that instrument was heard on a ene Vincent record; Bobby Jones played bass, and former rhythm guitarist Paul Peek shifted to backing vocals alongside Tommy Facenda (collectively the two came to be known as the Clapper Boys). The changes resulted in a somewhat less frantic sound. The music was beautifully played and exciting, but a little bit tamer overall; the occasional wild shouts that punctuated the old band's playing were absent, and Vincent was indulging increasingly in softer pop and ballad material, which worked but also served to tone down the impact of the album. The music was still lively, but much more a creation of the studio than an offshoot of intense, raucous stage performances. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps, cut in October 1956, only four months after its predecessor, came about under slightly less favorable circumstances than the Bluejean Bop album. Cliff Gallup, whose lead guitar had been so central to the group's original sound, and rhythm guitarist Willie Williams, who was only somewhat less important to their sound, had been gone from the band for nearly two months when producer Ken Nelson decided it was time to cut material for more singles and a second album. Gallup was persuaded to rejoin temporarily for the sessions that yielded this album, and with him he brought not only a hot-sounding instrument but one first-rate original song, "You Better Believe," alongside a few other notable band originals ("Cruisin'," "Hold Me, Hug Me, Rock Me") that are among the best songs Vincent and his band ever recorded. The sound ends up similar to the Bluejean Bop album, with a little more depth in places and Vincent showing more maturity and confidence, which is how he gets away with "Unchained Melody," the most challenging ballad he'd cut up to that time -- Gallup's trilled, mandolin-like playing (which turns up on "I Sure Miss You" as well) also serves to make this one of the more unusual and memorable of the many good versions of this song. Vincent's singing also stands out on his dark, moody, ominous rendition of the Delmore Brothers' "Blues Stay Away From Me." And the band runs circles around virtually every other white rock & roll outfit of the period. Unfortunately, Gene Vincent & His Blue Caps would also be the last time that this version of the band would turn up on record with Vincent -- Gallup soon left again, and in less than three months, every member of the group except drummer Dickie Harrell would be gone. In 1998, Collectables Records reissued this album, paired with Bluejean Bop, on Bluejean Bop/Gene Vincent & His Blue Caps. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
Gene Vincent's very first album, cut in June 1956, was a rushed affair -- which is obvious from the haphazard song selection -- but manages to be one of the most exciting LPs to come out of the early rock & roll era, rivaling Elvis Presley's first two albums, which date from the same period. Its virtues, which is to say, the virtues of Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps as high energy rock & rollers, transcend the lack of quality songs on the album -- the title hit is joined by some rocked up standards ("Lazy River," "Peg O' My Heart," and "Ain't She Sweet," which the Beatles picked up in their early repertory by way of Vincent, and made their first vocal recording five years later), a country ballad ("Wedding Bells") or two, and some hastily written rave-ups ("Jumps, Giggles and Shouts," etc.), little of it high-grade rock & roll material in and of itself. As it turned out, Vincent and his band didn't need first-rate songs to produce great rock & roll -- they rise to the occasion here, throwing the hard rocking numbers into the air like the musical equivalent of jitterbug dancing, or stretching out elegantly on the handful of ballads, and the result is one of the few truly virtuoso rock & roll albums of the era. What sets Bluejean Bop apart from Elvis' albums, in particular, and most other white rock & roll of the period, is that it has the tight sound of an actual working band, where Elvis' (and most other white rock & rollers') albums, in particular, almost inevitably featured session players whose presence helped make for an idealized recording, but not a good representation of how they sounded on stage -- which is what rock & roll was really about. Vincent and company, by contrast, were playing shows virtually every night during the period of these sessions. The sessions themselves were done in a hurry, without any help from studio musicians; and they were conducted with minimal input from producer Ken Nelson, who pretty much let the band do what came naturally. The result is a lean, tight sound, akin to a live recording -- which this practically was -- in terms of minimal retakes, lots of spontaneity, and no overdubbing. Bluejean Bop was reissued in 1998 by Collectables Records, paired off with Vincent's next album, Gene Vincent & His Blue Caps, on the same CD, as Bluejean Bop/Gene Vincent & His Blue Caps. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide