Sheryl Crow, "Tuesday Night Music Club"

Ken likes a good beer buzz early in the morning

, and

Jun 23, 2021

Ken’s Pitch:

Back in the 2000s I worked for a huge company out of the Midwest and every year they had a big annual meeting where thousands of people would come for 4-5 days to hear speakers, get awards, and generally pump up each other’s tires. This particular company was unbelievably conservative. Their idea of casual Friday was wearing a blue shirt and tie with your Brooks Brothers suit, instead a white shirt and red tie. They started their annual meeting with the national anthem and someone reading a prayer. Some of their annual speakers included George H.W. Bush, Bill O’Reilly, and Colin Powell. I hated it! Anyway, there was always some entertainment on the last night, undoubtedly some former A or B list act way past their prime. The Beach Boys had played a couple years before, and The Temptations a year or two before that. But this year was the company’s 150th anniversary and the entertainment committee pulled out all the stops. They had booked Jerry Seinfeld to do an hour set, and the opening act would be a singer-songwriter who still happened to be at the top of her game - Sheryl Crow.

I was already a big fan, and had seen her in Arizona back in 1995 or 1996. Then in 2006, my oldest son (he was almost 3 at the time) and I spent a very hot summer seeing Pixar’s Cars in the theater no less than 4 times. We’d leave the theater and immediately put in the CD to the movie soundtrack and crank up Rascal Flatts’ cover of “Life is a Highway'' and Sheryl Crow’s “Real Gone” and sing along as we drove home. Those days are still some of my favorite memories.

I was excited to see her again, even if it was in an arena full of up-tight, soulless businessmen. As soon as she came on stage to strong yet stifled applause (it was clear this old-boys club had come to see Jerry, not Sheryl), she noticed that there were 5 or 6 guys in the front row sitting back in leather recliners. They had been the company’s biggest producers and I guess this was their reward. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to sit in a recliner at a concert, but hey, who am I to judge what some douchebag wants to do?

Sheryl slung her electric guitar over her shoulder and before she started she looked at the front row and said “What the hell is going on down here? You guys want a bong or something?” Unknowingly, she had completely turned over the apple cart, as even the mention of drug paraphernalia made company management lose their collective shit! She had also completely satisfied me, and for the rest of the show it was as if she was playing to an audience of one...the only one in the place that totally got it. Yes, she was accessible enough to play a corporate gig, but she’d be damned if she was going to give them anything but authentic Sheryl Crow!

While I’m sure I heard her distinct voice somewhere in the background of a Michael Jackson album (she was a backup singer for the King of Pop from ‘87-’89), my introduction to her work was in 1993 with her debut album Tuesday Night Music Club, a collaborative effort of several L.A.-based musicians that met every Tuesday to work on the record. What they ended up making is an album that is somewhat autobiographical, even if it’s collaboratively so, that is so layered with influence from a previous generation of musicians, that you can ingest it like a fine wine.

Opening with hints of Linda Ronstadt on “Run Baby Run”, we follow with notes of Susanna Hoffs’ sultriness on “Strong Enough”. After the first course, we’re treated to a strong taste of John Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance” on “The Na-Na Song”, which actually falls a bit short in execution and is a bit of a jolt to the taste buds. “No One Said It Would Be Easy” is as good a lament as there ever was, undeniably evoking the presence of Carole King’s vulnerable strength and Joni Mitchell’s introspective observation and determination. Even the least sophisticated musical palette can’t help but hear some ghosts of music past. It’s an album that wavers musically between simple and complex, but is experientially exquisite.

It’s Crow at her authentic best, which is what we should always expect from her. And now, all I wanna do is have some fun listening to it again.

CJ’s Response:

Mitch and I have a long-running feud concerning two prominent female artists. In one corner, we have me and my champion, Patricia Mae Andrzejewski (a.k.a Pat Benetar) and in the other Mitch and his Khaleesi, Sheryl Crow (a.k.a. Sheryl Crow). I maintain that Sheryl is a glorified backup singer and a vocal lightweight while Mitch contends that Pat is an ‘80s shrieker and an overrated pop star. We’ve been fighting this battle for well over ten years with both sides refusing to yield. Ken and Don have been dragged into the argument on several occasions which has only led to further split decisions.

So, Ken knew he was poking the hornet’s nest when he pitched this album. And even though I think Sheryl’s questionable professional decisions (the cringey duet with Kid Rock) and personal choices (the relationship with Lance Armstrong, the biggest dope in the doping scandal) are enough to sink her, I’m going to re-listen to this album with open eyes and open ears. And that’s because you, dear EONS readers, deserve nothing but objective professionalism. Or at least a fun story.

Here’s the good news: This album opens with three killers. In fact, I’m going to stand here and declare before all of you that “Leaving Las Vegas” isn’t a good song. It’s a great song.

The middle four songs are a mixed bag. The “Na-Na Song” is definitely the record’s nadir. It’s like someone set Jack Kerouac to music. However, “No One Said It Would Be Easy” is a good recovery. This section brings her GPA down, but doesn’t destroy it.

Then we come to what I’m calling The Do Trilogy™ (patent pending)—“What I Can Do For You”, “All I Wanna Do” and “We Do What We Can.” If she had just covered “De Do Run Run”, she would’ve hit for the cycle. I’ve never been a fan of “All I Wanna Do”, but “What I Can Do For You” was a sexy surprise. Again, no deal breakers here.

“I Shall Believe” is a nice coda and I almost love it. Though I can’t help but feel like there’s something missing.

Maybe if it was a duet with Pat.

Pitch Failed

Don’s Response:

Like most, I discovered Sheryl Crow when the bouncy “All I Want To Do” took over radio in 1994. It was a fun and catchy earworm you couldn’t get out of your head. But once I bought Tuesday Night Music Club, I quickly discovered it was just the tip of Crow’s iceberg. Like the artist herself, the record is deep, and way more than meets the eye.

Throughout her career, Crow has consistently conveyed a sense of confidence and strength. And it all began with the first track on her debut. “Run, Baby, Run” revealed she wasn’t merely an up-and-coming pop star. This woman was a full-fledged rock star: a musician with a powerful voice and meaningful stories to tell.

I can’t think of a female artist from the ‘90’s with more vocal range and the ability to alter her approach to suit each tune’s attitude. Take the first four songs, each one quite different from the others, yet in total they comprise a stunning, cohesive introduction, including “Leaving Las Vegas,” the vulnerable “Strong Enough”, and my favorite of the bunch, “Can’t Cry Anymore.” Her vocal versatility is most evident on the latter, channeling Jackson Browne’s phrasing and tone of voice.

Crow does get out of her comfort zone on the funky “Solidfy” and grating “Na Na Song”. But she quickly regains her stride on Side 2, bookended by the gorgeous ballads “No One Said It Would Be Easy” and “I Shall Believe.”

I’ve always been a fan of rock-and-roll front-women, from Ann Peebles and Chrissie Hynde to Liz Phair and the great Sheryl Crow. More power to them.

Pitch Successful

Mitch’s Response:

A relationship with an artist develops over time. It starts with a song that at first you don’t skip and then eventually seek out for repeated listens. It grows into buying an album, considering yourself a “fan”, and telling your friends to get on board. Eventually you reach the real moment of truth in the relationship: the first concert.

The first concert is a momentous occasion. It’s make or break for the budding relationship. A great experience can result in a lifelong commitment and a bad one can stop the relationship dead in its tracks. In 1990, I saw The Black Crowes at a small club and ended up seeing them 50+ more times over the years, until the Robinson Brothers mysteriously quit the music business. In 1991, I saw Guns N’ Roses at SPAC and never listened to the band again after Axl called me a “motherfucker” for the 80th time (although I did keep wearing the Slash hat for a few more ill-fated fashion years).

On March 1, 1997 I saw Sheryl Crow at the Orpheum Theatre in Boston just a few days after she won some Grammys. Why anyone thought that Sheryl would want to come to cold-ass Boston at the literal worst time of the year instead of partying with her statues in LA is beyond me, but the show wasn’t great, and that should have been it for me and Sheryl.

Yet I stayed on board and bought her next 5 albums immediately upon release. Do you know why? Because Sheryl Crow is awesome and Tuesday Night Music Club is a shining example of her strengths as a singer (“I Shall Believe”) as a songwriter (“Can’t Cry Anymore”), her winning personality (“All I Wanna Do”) and her musical diversity (“Solidify”). I guess one bad date doesn’t have to ruin a relationship after all.

Pitch Successful

Ken’s pitch was a it and Sheryl Crow’s Tuesday Night Music Club has been added to the Newbury St. Collection.

Everyday is a winding road, but if it makes you happy, run, baby, run to the comments section and let us know if Sheryl Crow’s Tuesday Night Music Club is always by your side or if a change would do you good.

Exile on Newbury St.

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