[1] Talkin' 'Bout a Revolution (T.Chapman) - 2:38
[2] Fast Car (T.Chapman) - 4:58
[3] Across the Lines (T.Chapman) - 3:22
[4] Behind the Wall (T.Chapman) - 1:46
[5] Baby Can I Hold You (T.Chapman) - 3:16
[6] Mountains O' Things (T.Chapman) - 4:37
[7] She's Got Her Ticket (T.Chapman) - 3:54
[8] Why? (T.Chapman) - 2:01
[9] For My Lover (T.Chapman) - 3:15
[10] If Not Now... (T.Chapman) - 2:55
[11] For You (T.Chapman) - 3:09
David LaFlamme - Electric Violin
Ed Black - Steel Guitar
Paulinho Da Costa - Percussion
Denny Fongheiser - Percussion, Drums
Jack Holder - Organ, Dulcimer, Dobro, Piano, Electric Guitar, Hammond B3 Organ, Sitar
Stephen Kaplan - Keyboards
Larry Klein - Bass
Bob Marlette - Keyboards
Steve Kaplan - Harmonica, Keyboards
Don Rubin - Executive Producer
Brian Koppelman - Executive Producer
Carol Bobolts - Art Direction
Matt Mahurin - Photography
This eponymous debut album released in 1988 firmly secured Tracy
Chapman's part in the revival of the singer songwritertradition. The
album takes the sounds of traditional folk and adds a modern twist with
Chapman's politically charged lyrics. The album features the UK top
twenty single 'Fast Car'as well as the popular 'Talkin' 'Bout A
Revolution'.
"With her choked voice and acoustic guitar, Tracy Chapman re-awakened
social awareness and demonstrated the power of folk music on her debut
album, singing of homelessness and desperation and "Talkin' 'bout a
Revolution".
ROLLING STONE ALBUM GUIDE ****1/2
Arriving with little fanfare in the spring of 1988, Tracy Chapman's
eponymous debut album became one of the key records of the Bush era,
providing a touchstone for the entire PC movement while reviving the
singer/songwriter tradition. And Tracy Chapman is firmly within the
classic singer/songwriter tradition, sounding for all the world as if
it was recorded in the early '70s -- that is, if all you paid attention
to were the sonics, since Chapman's songs are clearly a result of the
Reagan revolution. Even the love songs and laments are underscored by a
realized vision of trickle-down modern life -- listen to the lyrical
details of "Fast Car" for proof. Chapman's impassioned liberal activism
and emotional resonance enlivens her music, breathing life into her
songs even when the production is a little bit too clean. Still, the
juxtaposition of contemporary themes and classic production precisely
is what makes the album distinctive -- it brings the traditions into
the present. At the time, it revitalized traditional folk ideals of
social activism and the like, kickstarting the PC revolution in the
process, but if those were its only merits, Tracy Chapman would sound
dated. The record continues to sound fresh because Chapman's writing is
so keenly observed and her strong, gutsy singing makes each song sound
intimate and immediate.
Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All-Music Guide
One of the most striking debut albums ever released, this disc
instantly established Chapman as a musical force, and with good reason.
Immediacy, integrity of purpose, and unqualified artistry are apparent
in nearly every song. And while "Fast Cars" remains Chapman's
best-known work, "Talkin' Bout a Revolution" is that rarest breed: a
song which is both topical and timeless. Any exploration into Chapman's
work should begin with this at times stunning effort; it's a disc of
remarkable uniformity and clarity that Chapman has yet to improve on.
Wayne Pernu, Amazon..com
Tracy Chapman's debut album presents a solo vocalist who is not only
self-assured in her delivery, but who also has a real flair for quality
songwriting. And oh, that voice! Tracy has a rich and lustrous vocal
style equal in depth and modulation to Joan Armatrading's-a woman whom
she often resembles both tonally and melodically. The arrangements of
these songs are spare, but don't make the mistake of pegging this as a
folk or "neo-folk" album; the simplicity of the instrumentation helps
prevent any distraction from the power of the words. The often
heart-rending lyrics provide a large measure of the power of this
album. "Behind The Wall," sung a cappella, is a chilling description of
domestic violence (a.k.a. wife beating) and the frustration felt over
not being able to do anything to stop it. Uniformly, Tracy's voices
seem lonely-perhaps in despair, or simply resigned to the heaviness of
life ("Talkin' Bout A Revolution," "Fast Car"). Pay attention to all of
these songs, including "Across The Lines" (after living and gigging
extensively in racially tense Boston, this song about the "line"
between white and black must have nearly written itself); "Mountains 0'
Things"; the reggae-inflected "She's Got Her Ticket"; "Why?"; and "For
My Lover."
CMJ New Music Report Issue: 141 Apr 08, 1988
Diese Schallplatte ist eines der bemerkenswertesten
Debütalben, die jemals veröffentlicht wurden, und es verhalf
Chapman dazu, sich über Nacht in der Musikszene fest zu etablieren
-- und dies aus gutem Grund. Spontaneität, Zielstrebigkeit und
bedingungslose künstlerische Hingabe werden in fast jedem Song
deutlich. Und wenn auch "Fast Cars" Chapmans bekanntestes Werk bleibt,
gehört "Talkin' Bout a Revolution" zu jener äußerst
seltenen Gattung: Ein Song, der aktuell und dennoch zeitlos ist. Jede
Erkundungsreise in Chapmans Werk sollte mit dieser stellenweise
geradezu verblüffenden Leistung beginnen; es ist eine
bemerkenswerte Platte aus einem Guss und einer Klarheit, die Chapman
erst noch mal zu übertreffen hat.
Wayne Pernu, Amazon.de
Machen Sie den Hörtest und neun von zehn Leuten werden blind
überzeugt sa- gen: "Das ist Joan Armatrading." Die Parallelen sind
frappierend: die gleiche dunkle, gutturale Stimme, ganz tief aus dem
Bauch, mit der ganzen Bandbreite emotionaler Hochs und Tiefs; schlicht
erscheinende Songs, selbst geschrieben, über Liebe und Leid,
Realität und Visionen, begleitet auf akustischer wie elektrischer
Gitarre. Doch Joan Armatrading ist längst etabliert - und die
23jährige Schwarze aus Cleveland Ohio (noch) ein Ge- heimtip.
Während ihres Anthropologie-Studiums in Boston sang sie in den
Coffee-Houses und Clubs der Gegend. Für ihr Plattendebüt nahm
sie David Kershenbaum - der schon Joe Jackson, Graham Parker und Joan
Baez produ- zierte - unter seine Fittische. Er inszenierte die elf
digital aufgenomme- nen Chapman-Songs spartansich, läßt ihre
Stimme in der tristen Geschichte einer verprügelten Frau ("Behind
The Wall") gar allein stehen. "Talkin' 'Bout A Revolution" kommt weder
aggressiv, noch "Fast Car" mit Trubo-Dröh- nen daher; stattdessen:
fast zarte Gitarrenmelodien, verhaltener Rhythmus, sparsam dosiert eine
Hammondorgel, eine Steelguitar- oder elektrifizierte Violine und Sitar
in der Ballade "Baby Can I Hold You". Zu Folk-Idiomen und Rock-Beats
mixt Tracy Chapman Latin-Percussion von Paulinho da Costa ("Mountains
O' Things") und Reggae-Puls ("She's Got Her Ticket"), wechselt vom
druckvollen Uptempo-Politsong ("Why?) zum schlichten Liebeslied ("For
You"). Das dürfte noch prägnanter, präsenter klingen;
doch die Stimme macht das wett. Für den Titel "Newcomer des
Jahres" hat Tracy Chapman be- ste Chancen.
Die dunkelhäutige Amerikanerin Tracy Chapman erinnert in den elf
Eigen- kompositionen ihres Debütalbums verblüffend an die
frühen Aufnahmen von Joan Armatrading. Für diese musikalische
Nähe bürgt schon die sensible Produktion von David
Kershenbaum (Joe Jackson, Graham Parker). Auch die stimmliche
Verwandtschaft ist nicht zu überhören, obwohl das junge
Talent noch expressiver und weniger schönsingend intoniert. Eine
primär auf der akustischen Gitarre basierende Begleitung tut ein
übriges. Deutlich un- terscheidet beide Frauen indes das Sujet
ihrer Lieder: Während Joan Arma- trading über sich und ihre
Gefühle singt, sind die Songs von Tracy Chapamn überwiegend
Kommentare zur gesellschaftlichen Situation der Farbigen in den USA,
speziell ihrer weiblichen Leidensgenossinnen. Dabei bedient sich die
Sängerin aus Cleveland/Ohio einer schlichten, doch präzisen
Sprache, in der Hoffnung und Empörung, Stolz und Zuneigung, aber
auch Entsetzen in subtiler Formulierung unmißverständlich
zum Ausdruck kommen. Glanzstück dieser Schreibkunst in das a
cappella gesungene "Behind The Wall", in dem Tracy Chapman aus der
Sicht einer dritten Person einen offenbar fatal endenden Ehezwist
schildert. Nicht minder beeindruckend getextet sind "Talkin' 'Bout A
Revolution", "Across The Lines" oder das Liebeslied "For My Lover". Den
engagierten Versen (Übersetzungen in Deutsch, Französisch und
Italienisch liegen LP und CD bei) könnte Gil Scott-Heron Pate
gestanden haben. Der harmonische Wohlklang der Melodien entstammt eher
der amerikanischen Folksong-Tradition, und David Kershenbaum
bemühte sich erfolgreich, mit differenziertem Einsatz von
Baß, Schlagzeug und sparsam eingesetzten Keyboards oder
elektrischen Gitarren den Songs ihren Folkcharakter zu belassen. Ein
Sonderlob gebührt dem Tontechniker Kevin Smith, der ein in
Frequenzgang, Räumlichkeit und Transparenz perfekt ausbalanciertes
Klangbild schuf. ** Interpret.: 8-9
Tracy Chapman's left-field hit, "Fast Car," catapulted this earnest and
enigmatic folkie from Boston coffeehouses to MTV and rock arenas. In
short order, she went from opening concerts for labelmates 10,000
Maniacs to coheadlining stadium shows with Bruce Springsteen and Peter
Gabriel on the Amnesty International world tour. Her rapid success was
stunning and short-lived, but both her signature song and debut album
are as fresh and moving as when first released. On "Fast Car," Chapman
spins a sad escapist tale with a striking matter-of-factness and a hint
of longing; the arrangement is equally spare but soars at just the
right moments, as the gloss in David Kershenbaum's production adds to
the song's power. That's the formula for most of TRACY CHAPMAN, and it
makes for a riveting experience. The sad thing about these tunes --
which deal with the marginalized, the victimized, the abused, and the
relentlessly hopeful -- is that, ten years on, songs like "Behind the
Wall," "Mountains o' Things," and "Why?" are often more relevant.
Chapman herself has retreated from stardom, but her songs remain
stirring, stinging, and important.
Michael Hill, Barnes & Noble
Recorded at Powertrax, Hollywood, California. Tracy Chapman exploded
out of the Boston folk scene in the late eighties, carrying the
acoustic guitar-playing singer/songwriter mantle to a more political
and socially conscious level than had recently been achieved. Her deep
alto and throttled vocal delivery, combined with attentively
scrutinized social scenarios presented in a simple, accessible manner,
rocketed Tracy to the top of the charts and into the Grammy record
books. Instrumentally crisp and minimal, TRACY CHAPMAN is a compelling
statement from the no-holds-barred black singer/songwriter, stealing
the focus away from the popular folk mafia. Chapman expresses a
heretofore unmined black, feminist, disenfranchised point of view--from
the helpless-but-hopeful underclass of the smash hit "Fast Car," to the
defiant politicos of "Talkin' `Bout A Revolution." In regards to other
issues, Tracy responds to Suzanne Vega's "Luka" with her own a capella
song about domestic violence, "Behind The Wall"; and the percussive
"Mountains O' Things" is about material wealth. But TRACY CHAPMAN is
not all social politics; there are several rapturously tender love
songs included as well. There are many strong influences to be heard in
Tracy's voice, particularly Joan Armatrading (on "Baby Can I Hold You")
and Odetta. Infused with those powerful roots, Chapman dramatically
changed the commercial stakes of folk music by blending a catchy,
acoustic backdrop to her social rhetoric, and delivering her manifestos
in a unique, commanding voice that seemed like a beacon in a sea of
mediocrity.
CDUniverse.com
Suzanne Vega was only the tip of the iceberg. Vega hauled the
female-singer-songwriter genre into the Eighties, sold records, even
got on the radio and on MTV. She was successful because she made smart
music, not because she looked good in a miniskirt or sold herself in
shopping malls or had a smart man in the shadows. But you could still
pigeonhole her: you know, another sensitive, poetic girl singer. So now
it's time to go further, to make this much-maligned form tougher and
more soulful and grittier and more real – it's time, in short, to
bring things into the Nineties. And that's where Tracy Chapman and Toni
Childs come in.
There are substantial differences between the two. One is a
tough-minded Easterner, the other a Southern California dreamer. But
there are also similarities. Both are authoritative, individual
personalities, songwriters who have a point to make and singers who've
figured out how to give those points a voice. Both have the potential
to be what Joan Armatrading has often threatened to be but has never
quite been: a forthright woman with a feel for modern urban music and
the guts and talent to force herself into the pop mainstream.
Childs is the Californian, the dreamer. You notice her voice first:
it's full, deep and flexible, and she often somehow manages to make it
throaty and breathy at the same time. Her voice is her album's
commanding centerpiece, surrounded by layers of keyboards, backing
vocals and percussive effects. Like David and David's album Boomtown
(that duo's David Ricketts is Childs's associate producer), this is a
lavishly arranged album that would sound slick if the arrangements
weren't so intelligently constructed, so marvelously atmospheric.
That atmosphere fits in perfectly with Childs's lyrics, which tend to
be elusive and impressionistic: if her songs are hard to pin down and
sum up, you could say the same for the emotions about which she usually
writes. As the title suggests, Union is an album about the precarious
dynamic between men and women, an album full of first-person songs
about losing love, finding love, remembering love. And though the
opening song, the brassy "Don't Walk Away," confronts a departing
companion who's "ripping out the root of love," the album is suffused
with a sense of peace and restfulness: by the end of side one's closer,
"Let the Rain Come Down," Childs sounds downright triumphant, buoyed by
her faith in the renewal that comes with time and distance and a
cleansing rain.
"Let the Rain Come Down" is typical of Union in the way Childs's voice
rides the grooves she has crafted with Ricketts and producer David
Tickle – and in the way she paints an emotional landscape by
looking to the physical world around her. At times the lavish
arrangements only serve to obscure the fact that some of these songs
are lushly framed sketches rather than worthy compositions, but on most
of the record – especially on "Let the Rain Come Down," "Walk and
Talk Like Angels" and the gorgeous "Where's the Ocean" – Childs
delivers what Van Morrison did in his finest moments: evocative,
evanescent music that allows you to immerse yourself and drift away.
Tracy Chapman is something else altogether. Confrontational rather than
confessional, pointed rather than poetic, hers is the sound of a smart
black woman growing up in the city with her eyes wide open. "The police
always come late," she sings bluntly, without a shred of music to back
her, "if they come at all."
Chapman's melodies are wandering and slippery, and she sings them with
unexpected phrasings that often call to mind a throatier, deeper-voiced
Joni Mitchell. Most of the tracks are modern folk songs, and producer
David Kershenbaum frames them in ways that never lose sight of that
fact. He never lets you forget that this is Chapman's story and
Chapman's sensibility.
Her sound is not wholly new, but at its best it feels that way, because
modern pop – as opposed to folk, a genre far too restrictive for
Chapman – rarely accommodates women who sing with this much open
political anger. Tracy Chapman is a mixture of defiantly optimistic,
big-scale political statements ("Talkin' bout a Revolution," "Why?")
and grim, knowing urban stories ("Fast Car," "Behind the Wall"). At the
heart of the blunt realism, though, is a deliberate naiveté. In
the inspiring, heartbreaking "Fast Car," for instance, she vividly and
succinctly sketches a dead-end inner-city life, then dares to let her
narrator imagine escaping: "I know things will get better/I had a
feeling I could be someone."
She makes you believe those desperately optimistic lines. And both
Tracy Chapman and Union make you believe that these two young
singer-songwriters can become successors not only to Suzanne Vega and
Joni Mitchell but to Sting and Bruce Springsteen as well. These women
have the power.
STEVE POND, Rolling Stone (RS 527) Posted: Jun, 2 1988
Don't you know
They're talkin' bout a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
Don't you know
They're talkin' about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
While they're standing in the welfare lines
Crying at the doorsteps of those armies of salvation
Wasting time in the unemployment lines
Sitting around waiting for a promotion
Poor people gonna rise up
And get their share
Poor people gonna rise up
And take what's theirs
Don't you know
You better run, run, run...
Oh I said you better
Run, run, run...
Finally the tables are starting to turn
Talkin' bout a revolution
Fast car
You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Anyplace is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
But me myself I got nothing to prove
You got a fast car
And I got a plan to get us out of here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
We won't have to drive too far
Just 'cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living
You see my old man's got a problem
He live with the bottle that's the way it is
He says his body's too old for working
I say his body's too young to look like his
My mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said somebody's got to take care of him
So I quit school and that's what I did
You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way
I remember we were driving driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone
You got a fast car
And we go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain't got a job
And I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a big house and live in the suburbs
You got a fast car
And I got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bar
See more of your friends than you do of your kids
I'd always hoped for better
Thought maybe together you and me would find it
I got no plans I ain't going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving
You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so you can fly away
You gotta make a decision
You leave tonight or live and die this way
Across the lines
Across the lines
Who would dare to go
Under the bridge
Over the tracks
That separates whites from blacks
Choose sides
Or run for your life
Tonight the riots begin
On the back streets of America
They kill the dream of America
Little black girl gets assaulted
Ain't no reason why
Newspaper prints the story
And racist tempers fly
Next day it starts a riot
Knives and guns are drawn
Two black boys get killed
One white boy goes blind
Little black girl gets assaulted
No one know her name
Lots of people hurt and angry
She's the one to blame
Behind the wall
Last night I heard the screaming
Loud voices behind the wall
Another sleepless night for me
It won't do no good to call
The police
Always come late
If they come at all
And when they arrive
They say they can't interfere
With domestic affairs
Between a man and his wife
And as they walk out the door
The tears well up in her eyes
Last night I heard the screaming
Then a silence that chilled my soul
I prayed that I was dreaming
When I saw the ambulance in the road
And the policeman said
"I'm here to keep the peace
Will the crowd disperse
I think we all could use some sleep
Baby can I hold you
Sorry
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like sorry like sorry
Forgive me
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like forgive me forgive me
But you can say baby
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
At the right time you'd be mine
I love you
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like I love you I love you
Mountains o' things
The life I've always wanted
I guess I'll never have
I'll be working for somebody else
Until I'm in my grave
I'll be dreaming of a live of ease
And mountains
Oh mountains o' things
To have a big expensive car
Drag my furs on the ground
And have a maid that I can tell
To bring me anything
Everyone will look at me with envy and with greed
I'll revel in their attention
And mountains
Oh mountains o' things
Sweet lazy life
Champagne and caviar
I hope you'll come and find me
Cause you know who we are
Those who deserve the best in life
And know what money's worth
And those whose sole misfortune
Was having mountains o' nothing at birth
Oh they tell me
There's still time to save my soul
They tell me
Renounce all
Renounce all those material things you gained by
Exploiting other human beings
Consume more than you need
This is the dream
Make you pauper
Or make you queen
I won't die lonely
I'll have it all prearranged
A grave that's deep and wide enough
For me and all my mountains o' things
Mostly I feel lonely
Good good people are
Good people are only
My stepping stones
It's gonna take all my mountains o' things
To surround me
Keep all my enemies away
Keep my sadness and loneliness at bay
I'll be dreaming, dreaming...
Dreaming...
She's got her ticket
She's got her ticket
I think she gonna use it
I think she going to fly away
No one should try and stop her
Persuade her with their power
She says that her mind is made
Up
Why not leave why not
Go away
Too much hatred
Corruption and greed
Give your life
And invariably they leave you with
Nothing
Young girl ain't got no chances
No roots to keep her strong
She's shed all pretenses
That someday she'll belong
Some folks call her a runaway
A failure in the race
But she knows where her ticket takes her
She will find her place in the sun
And she'll fly, fly, fly...
Why ?
Why do the babies starve
When there's enough food to feed the world
Why when there're so many of us
Are there people still alone
Why are the missiles called peace keepers
When they're aimed to kill
Why is a woman still not safe
When she's in her home
Love is hate
War is peace
No is yes
And we're all free
But somebody's gonna have to answer
The time is coming soon
Amidst all these questions and contradictions
There're some who seek the truth
But somebody's gonna have to answer
The time is coming soon
When the blind remove their blinders
And the speechless speak the truth
For my lover
Two weeks in a Virginia jail
For my lover for my lover
Twenty thousand dollar bail
For my lover for my lover
And everybody thinks
That I'me the fool
But they don't get
Any love from you
The things we won't do for love
I'd climb a mountain if I had to
And risk my life so I could have you
You, you, you...
Everyday I'm psychoanalyzed
For my lover for my lover
They dope me up and I tell them lies
For my lover for my lover
I follow my heart
And leave my head to ponder
Deep in this love
No man can shake
I follow my heart
And leave my mind to wonder
Is this love worth
The sacrifices I make
If not now...
If not now then when
If now today then
Why make your promises
A love declared for days to come
Is as good as none
You can wait 'til morning comes
You can wait for the new day
You can wait and lose this heart
You can wait and soon be sorry
Now love's the only thing that's free
We must take it where it's found
Pretty soon it may be costly
If now now what then
We all must live our lives
Always feeling
Always thinking
The moment has arrived
For you
There're no words to say
No words to convey
This feeling inside I have for you
Deep in my heart
Save from the guards
Of intellect and reason
Leaving me at a loss
For words to express my feelings
Deep in my heart
Look at me losing control
Thinking I had a hold
But with feelings this strong
I'm no longer the master
Of my emotions