Removed of the excesses of band members and with just a single instrument, the songs shine like diamonds, the sound is crisp, the delivery at times quick and fluid, at others melancholy; and even veering into the warped, the ending of “Guts” a particularly unhinged outburst.
Speaking of unhinged, Cale’s version of "Heartbreak Hotel" is the stuff of legend. Not to be outdone by the studio version, Cale starts off somber, growing more agonized until he’s seething, singing through gritted teeth; touching on all the emotions of heartbreak from self-pity to rage that make the original from Elvis sound superficial in comparison. The same can be said of the aforementioned, "Hallelujah." Allegedly, when Cale wrote to Cohen for the lyrics, Cohen sent him 60-70 verses and told him to put it together for himself. Unlike Jeff Buckley’s version, Cale’s strips the song down to its bones; where Buckley’s raises you to the heaven’s, Cale’s earthier rendition guts you, brilliantly capturing Cohen’s ironic blend of the sacred and the profane.
The songs are unique so the playing is the same, but at points where he allows himself a little run, you marvel at the agility and tone, and his decisions of where the song should be sent. The versions of “Fear” in particular, from classical flourishes to utter demonic discord and then back to the song, as if this were the most natural transition in the world.
Fragments of a Rainy Season, in my opinion, is John Cale’s best album. Much like himself, it's both elegant and rough around the edges. It is a raw, brilliant showcase for Cale’s talents as a songwriter and performer and while there have been some comprehensive overviews, Fragments of a Rainy Season more than any, serves as John Cale’s Greatest Hits. The live versions here outshine those laid down in the studio; it puts you front row center as Cale strips it all down to a lonely man at the piano, “raging against the dying of the light’.
