When it comes to bad marriages, the one between Gregg Allman and Cher was far from the worst. I give you Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, who were such gluttons for punishment they married twice. And John and Lorena Bobbitt, whose less-than-happy marriage ended in a custody dispute over John’s penis.
And let us not forget the marriage between 19h Century art critic John Ruskin and Euphemia Gray, which remained unconsummated after Ruskin made the horrifying discovery that unlike his beloved nude sculptures Euphemia had–gak!–pubic hair.
But what made the disastrous Cher/Allman union so uniquely awful is that they saw fit to leave us with a wedding souvenir in the form of 1975’s Two the Hard Way. Famously attributed to “Allman and Woman”–Cher having evidently agreed to surrender her half of the billing to womankind in general–this ill-starred love child was doomed to ignominy from the start for the most glaring of reasons, namely irreconcilable musical differences.
How incompatible are we talking? Suffice it to say that the wedded couple’s post-LP European tour was cut short after fights kept breaking out between Allman Brothers fans and Cher fans at their shows. It was like a replay of the Civil War, only it was fought overseas. I like to think the Cher fans triumphed–”Claw that hairy brute’s eyes out, Bernice, with your fabulous six-inch nails!”–but I have my doubts.
Two the Hard Way tries to do the impossible by splitting the difference between Brother Gregg’s Southern blues and Cher’s showbiz glitz, and unsurprisingly falls flat on its face. The LP was panned upon release, sold abysmally, and lives on as a kind of circus freak that gets trotted out whenever somebody compiles a list of the most abysmal albums ever.
That said, I don’t think it’s as bad as many people do, perhaps because I went in with open ears and zero expectations. The 1979 Rolling Stone Record Guide may have written off Two the Hard Way as “worthless,” but it includes a couple of tracks that stand up, even if they don’t set the world ablaze and I’m sure as hell never going to listen to them again.
For the most part Two the Hard Way is a failed example of El Lay studio slick, and when it comes to Cher and Man it’s hard to tell who comes out the bigger loser. To be fair, the pair harmonize well together, and I can almost see how they thought this improbable pairing of opposites might work. But it would have taken an engineering feat of epic proportions to do it–building a bridge that connects Macon, Georgia to Las Vegas is a formidable task.
And that bridge was never going to get built using the shoddy material the pair had on hand. Both parties emerge bruised by “Move Me,” a sleazy disco soul move that substitutes horn blare and some inordinately bright electric piano for sex appeal. “I Found You Love” is MOR treacle of the sort that gives Cher the opportunity to show off her pipes. And where the pair spend a lot of time singing, “Do do do do do do do do.” Heck, they don’t even have enough sense to throw in some “das” the way Sting does. Add a queasy-making guitar solo and you’ve got the perfect recipe for treacle.
“Do What You Got to Do” could be much worse; their coupling on this Jimmy Webb-penned big ballad beats plenty of the duets Kenny Rogers has performed over the years. And it’s blessedly short. “In For the Night,” on the other hand, can only be described as Vegas Funk, and its very forced “nighttime is the right time” vibe is risible. Allman may sing about “sleeping in your cornfield”–is that your homespun idea of a sexual innuendo, Gregg?–and name drop the great city of Mobile, but this one was recorded light years away from Alabama. The proof is in the ax and organ solos, which are pure L.A. shlock (if you’re going to rustle up El Lay studio musicians, why not pick some good ones?).
Cher’s solo spin on “Island” would fit just fine on a Cher album, but Cher albums aren’t really my thing. It’s your standard piano ballad and she holds up her end of the bargain on vocals, but I imagine this one had Allman Brothers’ fans smashing their bongs out of sheer apoplexy. “I Love Makin’ Love to You” is late night music for people who don’t stay up late; Gregg’s temperature is on the rise, Cher wants Gregg to feel her with his soul, and I get a steamier vibe from the Captain and Tennille’s “Muskrat Love.” Think very bad Doobie Brothers and move on, brothers and sisters, move on.
As for “Love Me,” our favorite couple saved the worst for last. The conjunction of Cher’s voice and a warbling harmonica is an unfortunate one, and this weeper never fails to leave me laughing despite the more than adequate vocal performances by both parties.
The album isn’t a complete loss. The duo acquit themselves on “Can You Fool,” which may be overly pretty but ain’t half bad for commercial country. And I rather like their “let it all hang out” take on Smokey Robinson’s “You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me,” right down to its big beat and greasy saxophone. Meanwhile, “We’re Gonna Make It” is an upwardly striving faux soul shouter with some really nice guitar playing in it. And while Allman’s solo turn on the pretty Jackson Browne number “Shadow Dream Song” may not be for the ages–it would sound better stripped of its orchestral trappings–he puts some real soul into his singing.
But the above songs tend to sink without a trace in this fetid swamp of an album. They lack context on this LP that has no context, and can you blame people for writing them off with all the rest?
Two the Hard Way is proof positive that love doesn’t conquer all. It didn’t conquer all in the case of Richard and Linda Thompson either, but unlike Sonny II and Cher they made some pretty good music before going down in flames. Two the Hard Way may not be worthless but it’s a fiasco nonetheless, and I couldn’t in good conscience recommend it to fans of Gregg or Cher or anybody else for that matter. This one may be a love child, but its diaper needs changing.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
D
