The Esperantos have been plenty busy gigging heavily around Mid-Michigan and befriending Boston’s premier garage band, The Charms featuring Ellie Vee. The Charm’s manager Steev Ricardo was so enamored by the talents of The Esperantos he signed them to his label Red Car Records and produced their eponymous titled CD. This time around the block (this is their sophomore effort), the Esperantos and the Svengali-like Ricardo have produced an incredible garage sound, 3 minute teenage anthems with frantic beats, squealin’ guitar (hit that E-string, brother) and a pimply preoccupation with your best girl –and maybe just a little on the side Each chorus is an instant sing-a-long punctuated with grunts, groans, yipes and hollers, falsetto screams, and any number of oh-yeah’s. And the verses contain a thematic appreciation for all forms of hangin’ out, hookin’ up, dumping and getting dumped, getting’ some and not getting any at all…ahh the angst. This CD puts the F back into fun and that’s what Esperantos music is all about F-U-N. Let’s take a listen to this non-stop rock fest…
Escort a great high energy rocker with hooks that instantly recognizable and a great slashing guitar riff…
I kiss your lips and gently touch your thighs
we brace ourselves, closing our eyes
But after this we’ll say our goodbyes
You see my girl no-no no-no
cool
I’m you seems like it’s straight outta the Sky Saxon “Pushing Too Hard” songbook, barely decipherable but compelling nonetheless
Prognosis is a break-up song – call the Love Doctor right away… a broken heart ain’t nuthin’ that a little lovin’ won’t cure…teenage angst at its big-beat best with a cool, falsetto vocal at the end that let’s you know it’ll be alright. Oh, I feel so smoochie, baby.
Jesus Saves is punked up rocker with a message about rock ‘n roll salvation - Gospel according to the Lizard King. The vocal is filtered to give it an almost metallic Rick Ocasek feel. It’s a hoot and ends too soon.
Cool it Down is a stompin’ delight that has ya singin’ along. The insistent chorus is all you have to remember. Before you move too fast and hit the ground, you gotta…Cool it Down.
Got What I Need is all about primal urges that lead to pleasure and pain and all kinds of unexpected complications. But in the heat of the moment you can throw good sense out the window. All she needs to do is shake that ass and pucker her lips and you better bet that your little Wendell will be a smilin’. This is good rockin’ tonight, mama that is guaranteed to get it movin’.
Pollute Your Mind starts with a softly thumping bass line and high pitched feedback that crescendos into a heavy metal ambience…reminiscent of Iggy. The protagonist is losing his mind and soul for a thing called rock and roll. Go ahead blow your mind, you just might discover something wild and untamed. But… does it ease all the pain?
Better Treat Me Right is another high energy, pull out all the stops rocker that begs the question what’s a young man to do? It’s thematically consistent and a close cousin to Got What I Need.
The steamy I’ll Be Your Man (You do it to me) has a Nirvana feel, shifting from a soft contemplative vibe to an all out screaming thrash fest. It is a ribald ode to the high art of psychosexual drama.
Media Screen is a funky rockin’ tribute to Mcluhan’s warning - the medium is the message. So turn on, tune in and drop out!
Fuel For Greed has a guitar intro that recalls Wayne Kramer. This number rocks hard and takes a gutsy stance against class inequities and the greed that drives American hegemony. Revolt completes the ending triad of tunes that speaks to social injustice, poverty and racism. It’s a minor chord classic and an anthem for the streets.
The Esperantos have released a disc for the times in which we live. This is rock and roll in its finest hour – fun and sexy but imbued with an awareness of the streets. The Esperantos have succeeded in taking us back to our golden years and giving us hope for the future. Rock ain’t dead…this is the proof.
Peace,
Bo White
9/18/06
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Empty Pockets - IDIODICY
I haven’t heard a disc that sounded this good since Moby Grape’s debut in ’67. It’s an 8th wonder, a sonic time capsule that catapults us back to the future and allows us to regain a step we lost a few years back and recover from the dusty torpor of today’s scene with the same 5 bands-in-demand playing original music in rotation, club-to-club, takin’ hard hits from sing-a-long karaoke and the best cover bands in the state. Whew… now everybody’s doin’ it, there’s more and more places to hang yer microphones and belch out yer version of Every Rose Has its Thorn or any other turgid hair-metal nonsense from the eighties, it’s all too much, brother, especially when the street pub cannibals feed on their young and hiss, “you better figure out your priorities.” Everybody gets a serving. And no one can make sense of what is true and right or what’s just the rantings of a musical snob like yours truly. Snob, indeed-gimme a little Louie Louie with a side of the 13 Floor Elevators and I’ll be in rock n’ roll heaven – not the Righteous Brothers’ version.
Gimme the Beatles’ 2nd Album and the gospel of “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.”
Gimme music that matters.
Shake it up with Question Mark & the Mysterians or die you sniveling nincompoops!
The slow dying death of rock n’ roll is upon us like junky blood infecting everyone with HIV...just as Burroughs’ Naked Lunch reveals an anguished cry for truth to anybody who gives a damn. But few ever understood that dilemma between art and commerce and many hated rock & roll without really listening to it just as people today offhandedly dismiss hip hop or rap.
. Rock n’ roll is a stubborn ‘old tomcat that used up eight of its nine lives; it just may be time for its final burial in some doomed post-apocalyptic trash heap in Cleveland. It is gonna happen sooner or later, better not hedge your bets, buy some stuff on credit and pray for a timely death - it’s yer only way out of this cultural purgatory!!
: Except if you’re a true believer like me.
Seems every time I lose hope that I’ll ever hear great new music, someone arrives on the scene to save the day and renew my spirit. It’s happened in the late nineties with the resurgence of Johnny “Boomer” Krogman and the explosive entrance of Sprout & the Orange. Stamp’d rocked my world and more recently Maybe August showed me the path to enlightenment. They gave me hope for the future. Rock hasn’t died yet, there’s nothing quite like it and nothing can replace it.
John Lennon once said, “There’s nothing conceptually better than rock & roll. It was the only thing that could get through to me out of all the things that were happening when I was fifteen. Rock & roll was real.”
And so is the music of Empty Pockets. They’ve been around for several years, releasing a CD every now and again, showing sparks but cooling off…until now. They knocked me out this past summer with a stunning performance at Tittabawassee Park in a benefit organized by the Freeland Athletic Association. It was a lovely summer’s day, fresh and warm and fueled by good wine, cheese and an assortment of sweet culinary delights. A good-feeling communal spirit filled the air. What struck me about Empty Pocket’s performance was not just their glorious rock & roll music but the confident, easy manner in which they involved the audience.
To top it off, lead singer Mike McMath completed a painting of a lavender iris on this huge 4ft by 5ft canvas during the performance, never missin’ a stroke - ooh, baby!
The release of Idiodicy signals the renaissance of Empty Pockets, a commitment to quality and craft yet still making music that is crunchy, melodic and a whole lot of fun.
REM is a minor chord miracle that recalls CSN on Wooden Ships. It’s a powerful ballad that is colored in pain, both in its plain spoken lyrics and its sad musical tapestry. The words convey the absolute sorrow experienced in the loss of someone you once loved:
Now you know my misery
Now you feel my pain
The vocal is emotive and soulful and the extended screaming guitar solo in the coda reveals the misery behind the lyrics. This is a brutally honest and frank portrait of a man with a broken heart.
Desperate Soul is a sweet 12 bar blues with nice economical use of the slide that continues the theme introduced by the previous track. But this time the writer acknowledges this is “living hell” and that acceptance is the only way out. By writing the song, he puts the pain outside of himself and loosens its power over his state of mind. The next step is radically accepting the pain and sorrow. Given the current reality of the loss, how could it be otherwise?
Land Down Under is an elegant cover of a great song by Aussie Colin Hay & Men at Work. The first verse is sung acapella and it segues into a guitar-driven up-tempo rocker. The band’s singers are gifted with some-kinda wonderful pipes. Great singing is their trademark – especially those tight soaring harmonies. The guitarist Rick Manges really lets loose on this sleeper...covers never sounded so good!
15 minutes is a straight ahead blues rocker with some fabulous lead singing that recalls Moby Grape on Miller’s Blues. It’s a bit tongue-in-cheek and decries the discreet charm of the bourgeois dilettante as it pokes fun of the instant gratification of the American Idol, You Tube and Reality TV. Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame has turned into a nightmare…everyone’s got the itch
Breath to Flesh is heavy metal rocker reminiscent of the Troggs’ muscular guitar opus Feels Like a Woman. It’s a delightful ode to love, sex and sex and a touch of intimacy and, of course, more sex. It’s written from the perspective of the reptilian brain… which goes something like this:
Can I eat it?
Can it eat me?
Can I have sex with it?
But I have to admit I may over-stating the sex part - just a bit (for my own needs).
A jagged machine-gun guitar riff, with a little wah-wah for good measure, dominates Shake. This is a great toe-tappin’, booty-shakin’ dance number that drops names and takes numbers. J-lo? Horney bastards. The middle eight contains a good lovin’ bring-sexy-back rap:
Relax
Don’t do it
When you gonna go to it
Relax
Don’t do it
When you gonna come
,/B>
Cruel Lady is a cool jazz ballad with some tasteful guitar. This guy Manges is a real player, workin’ up and down the frets, bending that E-string and pickin’ some of the most full-bodied delightful notes since Junior Watson joined the Mighty Flyers. This song is about a kept man who feels he can’t speak his mind. This woman - in a perfect role reversal - treats him like an object. She pays the bills and lives by the “golden rule” – whoever has the gold makes the rules. The song is a form of alternate rebellion; it’s a chance for him to say screw you without getting into trouble.
Hey Carlos is a tribute to Santana and opens with a bass line straight out of the Mann & Weill catalog and segues into the sweetest Spanish guitar work since Carlos blew us away at Woodstock. The guitar work is phenomenal with Manges taking turns with Michael Robertson (Maybe August) and Dave Kellan. These fine musicians really stretch out and strut their stuff...they flat out play their asses off. This track is a standout – it’s SMOKIN’
Fuse is the final statement of loss and longing, the plaintive sentiment is balanced by the powerful music. A fuse has blown, the wish isn’t granted and sometimes he just functions. The squealing full bodied Hendrix-like guitar at the coda provides the sonic equivalent to the lyrical sentiments of the song – powerful!
This is one of the most open and honest musical statements since Alex Chilton bared his soul on his obscure lo-fidelity masterpiece Flies on Sherbert or when Neil Young blew me away with Prairie Wind.
Kudos to Empty Pockets for creating a disc of “real” songs with great singing and playing and a clean crisp sound compliments of wunderkind producer Rick Armstrong @ Big Bear studios. Buy this disc and stand up for good music.
Peace
Bo White
Gimme the Beatles’ 2nd Album and the gospel of “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.”
Gimme music that matters.
Shake it up with Question Mark & the Mysterians or die you sniveling nincompoops!
The slow dying death of rock n’ roll is upon us like junky blood infecting everyone with HIV...just as Burroughs’ Naked Lunch reveals an anguished cry for truth to anybody who gives a damn. But few ever understood that dilemma between art and commerce and many hated rock & roll without really listening to it just as people today offhandedly dismiss hip hop or rap.
. Rock n’ roll is a stubborn ‘old tomcat that used up eight of its nine lives; it just may be time for its final burial in some doomed post-apocalyptic trash heap in Cleveland. It is gonna happen sooner or later, better not hedge your bets, buy some stuff on credit and pray for a timely death - it’s yer only way out of this cultural purgatory!!
: Except if you’re a true believer like me.
Seems every time I lose hope that I’ll ever hear great new music, someone arrives on the scene to save the day and renew my spirit. It’s happened in the late nineties with the resurgence of Johnny “Boomer” Krogman and the explosive entrance of Sprout & the Orange. Stamp’d rocked my world and more recently Maybe August showed me the path to enlightenment. They gave me hope for the future. Rock hasn’t died yet, there’s nothing quite like it and nothing can replace it.
John Lennon once said, “There’s nothing conceptually better than rock & roll. It was the only thing that could get through to me out of all the things that were happening when I was fifteen. Rock & roll was real.”
And so is the music of Empty Pockets. They’ve been around for several years, releasing a CD every now and again, showing sparks but cooling off…until now. They knocked me out this past summer with a stunning performance at Tittabawassee Park in a benefit organized by the Freeland Athletic Association. It was a lovely summer’s day, fresh and warm and fueled by good wine, cheese and an assortment of sweet culinary delights. A good-feeling communal spirit filled the air. What struck me about Empty Pocket’s performance was not just their glorious rock & roll music but the confident, easy manner in which they involved the audience.
To top it off, lead singer Mike McMath completed a painting of a lavender iris on this huge 4ft by 5ft canvas during the performance, never missin’ a stroke - ooh, baby!
The release of Idiodicy signals the renaissance of Empty Pockets, a commitment to quality and craft yet still making music that is crunchy, melodic and a whole lot of fun.
REM is a minor chord miracle that recalls CSN on Wooden Ships. It’s a powerful ballad that is colored in pain, both in its plain spoken lyrics and its sad musical tapestry. The words convey the absolute sorrow experienced in the loss of someone you once loved:
Now you know my misery
Now you feel my pain
The vocal is emotive and soulful and the extended screaming guitar solo in the coda reveals the misery behind the lyrics. This is a brutally honest and frank portrait of a man with a broken heart.
Desperate Soul is a sweet 12 bar blues with nice economical use of the slide that continues the theme introduced by the previous track. But this time the writer acknowledges this is “living hell” and that acceptance is the only way out. By writing the song, he puts the pain outside of himself and loosens its power over his state of mind. The next step is radically accepting the pain and sorrow. Given the current reality of the loss, how could it be otherwise?
Land Down Under is an elegant cover of a great song by Aussie Colin Hay & Men at Work. The first verse is sung acapella and it segues into a guitar-driven up-tempo rocker. The band’s singers are gifted with some-kinda wonderful pipes. Great singing is their trademark – especially those tight soaring harmonies. The guitarist Rick Manges really lets loose on this sleeper...covers never sounded so good!
15 minutes is a straight ahead blues rocker with some fabulous lead singing that recalls Moby Grape on Miller’s Blues. It’s a bit tongue-in-cheek and decries the discreet charm of the bourgeois dilettante as it pokes fun of the instant gratification of the American Idol, You Tube and Reality TV. Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame has turned into a nightmare…everyone’s got the itch
Breath to Flesh is heavy metal rocker reminiscent of the Troggs’ muscular guitar opus Feels Like a Woman. It’s a delightful ode to love, sex and sex and a touch of intimacy and, of course, more sex. It’s written from the perspective of the reptilian brain… which goes something like this:
Can I eat it?
Can it eat me?
Can I have sex with it?
But I have to admit I may over-stating the sex part - just a bit (for my own needs).
A jagged machine-gun guitar riff, with a little wah-wah for good measure, dominates Shake. This is a great toe-tappin’, booty-shakin’ dance number that drops names and takes numbers. J-lo? Horney bastards. The middle eight contains a good lovin’ bring-sexy-back rap:
Relax
Don’t do it
When you gonna go to it
Relax
Don’t do it
When you gonna come
,/B>
Cruel Lady is a cool jazz ballad with some tasteful guitar. This guy Manges is a real player, workin’ up and down the frets, bending that E-string and pickin’ some of the most full-bodied delightful notes since Junior Watson joined the Mighty Flyers. This song is about a kept man who feels he can’t speak his mind. This woman - in a perfect role reversal - treats him like an object. She pays the bills and lives by the “golden rule” – whoever has the gold makes the rules. The song is a form of alternate rebellion; it’s a chance for him to say screw you without getting into trouble.
Hey Carlos is a tribute to Santana and opens with a bass line straight out of the Mann & Weill catalog and segues into the sweetest Spanish guitar work since Carlos blew us away at Woodstock. The guitar work is phenomenal with Manges taking turns with Michael Robertson (Maybe August) and Dave Kellan. These fine musicians really stretch out and strut their stuff...they flat out play their asses off. This track is a standout – it’s SMOKIN’
Fuse is the final statement of loss and longing, the plaintive sentiment is balanced by the powerful music. A fuse has blown, the wish isn’t granted and sometimes he just functions. The squealing full bodied Hendrix-like guitar at the coda provides the sonic equivalent to the lyrical sentiments of the song – powerful!
This is one of the most open and honest musical statements since Alex Chilton bared his soul on his obscure lo-fidelity masterpiece Flies on Sherbert or when Neil Young blew me away with Prairie Wind.
Kudos to Empty Pockets for creating a disc of “real” songs with great singing and playing and a clean crisp sound compliments of wunderkind producer Rick Armstrong @ Big Bear studios. Buy this disc and stand up for good music.
Peace
Bo White
Doug Deming & the Jewel Tones - Double Down
Doug Deming is one of those rare artists that perform and record for the SAKE of the music. A respect so real, so pure, that it simply cannot be denied. And it's reflected in Doug's style and approach to composition and in the way he lays it down on his debut recording for Mighty Tiger Records.
"Double Down" is a musical treasure - a recording of such rootsy eclecticism that it covers just about every form of American Music - from basic 12-Bar Blues, to Jump Blues and Swing, Jazz, and Rockabilly - twelve Deming originals that resonate with conviction and authenticity.
This is the real deal
And it reminds me what is possible when an artist stays true to his muse without being twisted and pulled by trends or gimmicks.
Deming has the looks and personal charisma of a modern day Elvis but he never trades off form for substance. And he doesn't sell out. He simply plugs in a lets the music take over... in a style that combines (Mose) Allison cool with T-Bone flash.
Deming writes in straight forward style and he's at his best when he writes those wonderfully concise and wicked metaphors or when he's "kidding on the square"
The disc opens with "Goodbye Baby", an uptempo slap-jackin' shuffle that jumps and swings like an ol' southbound rockin' & reeling and just about ready jump the track. Deming's guitar work is rich and sweet with nary a wasted note. Like such great guitarists as Emmanuel X Garza, Howard Glazer, Johnny Bassett, and Junior Watson, Deming plays with a musical economy that assures that less is more. Sound Rules this landscape as Deming tells the story of a failed romance. She is drinkin' and staying out all night despite her lover's plea, "please be good to me".
BlackJack" breaks out with some squealing harp from Brian Miller and a funked-up riff with prominent maracas in the mix. Doug sings,
"They call me blackjack baby 'cos I always make 21"
"When I cash in my chips, gonna have them on the run". In the coda, Deming intones like Alex Chilton circa 1987 (remember the Box Tops?)on Lowell Fulsom's "Make a Little Love". He raps some mighty fine smack, "Gonna have me a whole lot a money"
"We going out on the town"
" a big fine car"
" a big black Cadillac"
"ahhh, we gonna be ridin' in style..."
I don't know what it means but I'm sure it's NAUGHTY. A great soul stirrer.
"Bad For You" is a mid-tempo ode to love's mysterious allure. Gregg "Fingers" Taylor's wonderous harp drives the celebratory vibe - the musical equivalent to the excitement and primal thrill of new love. But the real-life tension of human relationships is revealed when Doug sings,
"You got my heart and soul and all my dough".
This blues rocker - like any great blues love song - contains ample amounts of paradox. She may be divine but she just may be doing him wrong. And he knows it - with a wink and a nudge.
"Make It Last" has a "Stormy Monday" vibe - a slow blues with a menacing organ backdrop (courtesy of the extraordinary Chris Codish). Deming sings about some pretty hard-won wisdom,
"When I was a young boy I ran through every door"
Lived every day like there'd be a million more"
"People told me try not to live to fast"
"You better make it last"
"Now that I'm older, thank the Lord for every day"
"See people abuse time in each and every way"
"Never concerned with the future or the past"
"They better make it last"
"I think I know just how it feels to push and not succeed
"You'll never win when you try to beat the clock"
"So take just what you need".
There is a moral in this story and it has a beginning and an end. But it's the journey that counts. Kudos to Brian Miller's exceptional harp work.
"You Don't Even Care" returns to an uptempo jump blues. Here Deming is positioned outside his pain as he sings about his lover's indifference and betrayal. The music's energy and spirit belie the singer's devastating message. This song R-O-C-K-S
And it contains one of the most exciting recorded instrumental jams in recent memory - as it reaches break-neck speed in a crescendo of sound and fury. A kick-ass blast to the sciatic nerve and a throttle to the limbic system.
Makes me wanna get up and jitterbug
"Let Me Be" sounds like it was recorded on a cheap two-track in 1950...a cool production technique that duplicates the sound of some of our earliest and best bluesmen and rockers. It recalls Dave Edmunds churning out "The Promised Land" on his Rockpile album way back in 1970. It's starkness is it's beauty. And Deming's upfront echoed and scratchy vocal is magnificent. The band stretches out on this one with guitar, harp, and piano all taking turns in the spotlight. Great track.
"HDF" is an instrumental that opens with pulsating bass guitar and drum on a Bo Diddley (cum the Troggs' "Gonna Make You") riff. Drummer Don Gruendler is given a prominent solo that is compared to Gene Krupa. I think it's more like Sandy Nelson's "Let There Be Drums".
But what do I know.
The excitement builds as the tempo accelerates and everyone joins in.
"On The Midnight Shift" has a slow syncopated beat and some deep wailin' organ that drives the sensual images provided by the lyrical metaphor.
"Be silent don't move"
"Pay the devil his due"
"Before we groove"
"Build it up make it strong"
"Just because it's wicked"
"Don't mean it's wrong"
"Turn it over"
"Deep and real"
"We're in hot production"
..."On the midnight shift" .
WHEW...I think it moved
"Mr. Blues" has drummer Gruedner pounding out the intro and Doug & the boys keeping the rhythm with a bomp-bomp beat worthy of Brian Wilson's "Don't Worry Baby" as stolen by the Byrds on "Mr. Tamborine Man". Deming is singing about problems with his lover...and it's his fault. He's singin' the blues but is confident she'll come back and give him another chance.
"It's a Crime" is thematically similar to "Goodbye Baby" but this song finds Doug stretching out with some of the purest tonal perfection this side of Junior Watson. This is a showcase for Deming's considerable skills as a guitarist. Roll over T-Bone give Doug Deming the blues!
"All About Digits" is Deming at his satirical best - doing the Mose Allison all over you when you least expect it
"Now your talkin' to a sweet thing at your favorite night spot"
"You wanna get her number 'cos she's lookin' pretty hot"
"You look down at your watch it's almost closing time"
"She's lookin' at your wallet is it worth a lousy dime"
"All about the digits baby"
"She's got no time to waste"
"You've been together for a year now"
"And it's been a real sweet thing"
"She's lookin' at her finger and she wants to see a ring"
"You go to see the banker to get a loan you can't pay"
"But now you've got that diamond it makes everything OK"
"All about the digits baby"
"She's got to no time to waste"
"Well she's lookin' though her planner"
"And she can hardly wait"
"She's finally got a ring"
"Now she wants to set a date"
"You look into your pockets and you pull out lead and sand"
"The preacher calls and says he needs another grand"
"All about the digits"
"She's got no time to waste"
"And now when the party is over she's quiet as a mouse"
"And then they serve those papers that say she's got half the house"
"Now the moral of the story as anyone can see"
"Be careful with those digits or you'll wind up just like me"...
My favorite track
The disc closes with "Double Down" a rockin' coda that combines all the best elements in Deming's considerable repetoire... he rocks and swings to a raucous conclusion.
And leaves us thirsty for another round.
Doug Deming and the Jewel Tones have crafted a sonic testimony to their willful embrace of authenticity. It's a profound statement for a musician to make by mining a balance between craft and talent and eschewing the more profitable potential of flashier styles.
Doug Deming seems almost unstoppable.... touring with swamp blues legend Lazy Lester and gigging up and down the state - from Detroit to all points North, South, East, and West. Deming's music is irresistable - once you hear him play, you become one of the initiated.
A true believer.
So if you haven't had the chance to experience the vibe and voodoo of Doug Deming and the Jewel Tones, the place to start is right here.
Dave Kellan - Truth of the Matter
Dave Kellan is one of the most talented musicians in the Mid-Michigan scene today. That's right. Forget all the rest. GIMME KELLAN.
For Kellan his talent seems a birth right. Undeniable as a breath of fresh air. He is a guitarist blessed with such precision, such concise phrasing and such an astounding range of expression that he ranks with the area's best guitar slingers. Move over Wagner and McCray and make some room for Kellan...our future depends on it. In a time when new artists are intentionally bland and disposable - a variation of planned obsolescence - Kellan offers something substantial and enduring. By GOD I hope talent will prevail. But I must admit it's much cheaper for the suits to squeeze a coupla hits from a formulaic no-name forgettable and call it good. No back catalog or messy royalty scams.
Perfect.
And the public be damned.
They are too STOOOPID to know any better anyway.
You may remember that Kellan became WIOG's Mid-Michigam Idol last year and rocked everyone to the bone at the WONDERJAM.
Uncle Kracker tried but he couldn't do it....
doesn't have the gris gris
I'm hoping that Kellan transforms this opportunity to pure gold to prove (to me anyway) that talent still has a place on the hit parade. I NEED Kellan to restore my faith in what is good and pure. If Kellan succeeds I might be able to TRUST that the American public has some capacity to embrace more than their own reflection. "truth of the matter" is Dave Kellan's third release.
And it's his BEST
Just as his debut with Gutbucket Blues Band layed the foundation and "Open Up" expanded his vision, Kellan's point of view matured with "A Matter of Trust". It's a new "voice"...of someone who is beginning to learn the game. A man who is on the precipice of KNOWING and on the cusp of "radical acceptance". Things as they appear to be but truth is as relative as looking at purple but seeing fuchsia.
The disc opens with the title track truth of the matter
It has a cool-jazz vibe with a wondrous and melodic saxophone riff (courtesy of Jim Rosborough)that creates has a rich melancholy landscape of ambient tones that underscore Kellan's soulful vocal. Matt Cohn slight-of-hand keyboard notations are some kinda tasty. And Kellan's powerful screaming guitar punctuates the anger and longing in the song. Is he better off alone?
Tranquility is anything but. A straight out funky "protest" rocker with plenty of attitude. It has a great hook - with Kellan singing in unison with the guitar riff. Very NICE. He sings,
"Come and go as you please, don't disrespect me". He asks rhetorically,
"Will there ever be a chance...for tranquility"?
Kellan's ambivalence is convincing
Kellan performs a trinity of solo acoustic songs in this set...
Golden Rule, Them Applesand Talk About the Weather
Thematically similar and metaphorically satisfying, these songs are beautifully crafted and executed with humble aplomb. Simple and unadorned, these tunes reveal Kellan's skill in creating songs of stark majesty. And there's some mighty fine pickin' as Kellan proves to be every bit as fluid on acoustic guitar as when he is electrified. "Talk About the Weather" is just Dave and his acoustic....singin' about a broken heart...suffering
"I'm, beggin' darlin please"
"I'm on my knees"
"So lets talk about the weather"
"nothin' left to say...
But I need you"
Sun Shinin' is a blues/gospel anthem. One of the discs many highlights
"If you ask me to do it all over again"
"I would"
"In the greenfields I'd raise my weary head"
"In the greenness I'd make my eternal bed"
"I'll live my life where the sun is shining"
This is an old fashioned spiritual - a song of triumph and redemption.
Kellan and the band shine on the mid-tempo rocker Rainy Day
It combines a tight & mighty rhythm section with moody organ and Kellan's increasingly gymnastic vocals and a fiery McCray-esque blues/rock guitar solo.
Silky Gravy is cool jazz at it's best.
Move over Stan Getz.
Jim Rosborough's magnificent jumpy saxophone riff fuels the vibe. Kellan's intricate finger perfect notations create an aural landscape that draws the listener "inside" the music. This is a superb and compelling side to the band's arsenal of chops. And Kellan doesn't play it straight...he can barely contain his joy in creation as he segues to an electrical romp that pounds ya right in the chest before he brings it back down to the "silk".
High Tides is a jazz rocker that has the vocals pushed back in the mix, allowing the music to dominate and make the statement. It's about relationships - making choices....tough choices.
Can we ever be sure?
You Are is a mantra of discovery. Kellan's scratchy straining vocal captures the zenist vibe of the song. Kellan is outside his pain and in the awareness of the moment he is observing the feelings and thoughts that flow through him. And he is knowing
"You are....
hardly yourself"
And in that very moment he is talking about the other AND himself at the same time.
I Still Care has a simple piano based melody and a Lennon-esque vocal circa 1970/71 during his Plastic Ono Band/Imagine phase. The mellow vibe and sweet vocal masks the heartache in the lyric...
"I've been waiting"
"no more words to say...anyway"
"Why must I be.."
"in your distant memory?"
"I don't Know"
"I don't know"
"BUT I STILL CARE"
Around You seems to be a written form of parallel process. A dual message to an unenlightened, unknowing public - mass popularity is so elusive - and a "heads up" to a friend in trouble.
"You better stop & look around
check out the sights and sounds around you"
"Look in my eyes I can see your disguise"
"and I wonder why"
The CD ends with an uncredited instrumental... just Dave and his trusty acoustic. It's a joyful syncopated release of frustration. And one helluva workout - a wordless statement made more provocative by it's economy and tension.
Kellan's third album is an inspired effort. Like any great piece of music, "The Truth Of The Matter" possesses the unique vision of the author and is not encumbered by trendiness or an eye on what sells on the "hit parade". This may not translate into massive sales but it does suggest a more enduring legacy. REAL music masterfully conceived and crafted that avoids the musical sophistry that now pollutes the airwaves.
Music-lite masquerading as relevance and appealing to the disposable notions of a youth culture deconstructed to ensure conformity and encourage a mass ADHD-like consciousnes that values the very impulsiveness and distractabilty that creates the "bland inconsequence" of modern music.
But Kellan does not fall for it. And he never co-opts his unique voice and vision for a readily definable bag or label. You can call Kellan's music whatever you like...blues, jazz, rock, folk. But ultimately it is so pure and authentic that it's "just what it is".
Music...vision...breath...life
Dave Kellan - Open Up
ou may remember Dave from the Gutbucket Blues Band, Danny Brown (a great pop harmony band), or the KBK Blues band. All great bands that had one thing in common...they all had SHITTY NAMES!!!
But they were all excellent bands that somehow never found a niche...maybe it WAS those names.
But Dave Kellan always stood out as a tremendous talent. All he needed was that one break...that "one" open door. A lucky break never comes to you, you go to it.
And Dave went out and FOUND it
In November 2002, Dave won WIOG's mid-Michigan Idol contest and the next month he recorded demos in New York for Epic. He's on his way. Dave performed at WIOG's Winter WonderJam in January 2003, rubbing shoulders with Uncle Kracker and Bowling For Soup.This is Dave's "acoustic" album from the fall of 2001. It caught us all off-guard at the time 'cos we knew Dave as a blues rocker that possessed the purest, most powerful, and lightening fast riffs this side of Dave Edmunds on speed (remember Sabre Dance?). Dave calls it, "a fun, beat-centric, commercial interpretation of myself". I call it soul music.
"Kellan Soul"
This may be acoustic but its percussive and funky. Kellan's voice is mic'd back in the mix and it's echoed and double and triple tracked. In some respects "Open Up" is all about VOICE and singing to set a tone or a mood...and I'm not talkin' 'bout the lyrics. Kellan is a vocal gymnast on this record, using his throat, tongue, lips, and lungs to bend, prolong, and twist notes around to serve the song...it's mood and intent.
It's an absolutely compelling and masterful juxtaposition of voice and instrument in service to the song. Dave proves to be a fine acoustic guitarist. He plays rapid-fire leads but doesn't try to overwhelm the integrity of the song. He achieves a tonal purity and beauty that is fully complimented by Matt Cohn's imaginative piano work and Jeff Wareheim's plaintive harmonica. The disc is thematically coherent with a coming of age vision of identity vs confusion and self doubt vs mastery. Issues about intimacy, love and sexuality are interwoven amongst the narrative themes. There appears to be a "parallel process" as the themes neatly tag Dave's ambivalent relationship with the music industry itself. Why does it take soooo long to be recognized? Especially when lesser talents have approached the "ring" first - so come on...OPEN UP!
The disc begins with "Better Think". This is soul music. Pure and simple. A story about a relationship with a touch of social commentary about "the world we live in". Dave pleads with her to remember the times, to cherish them 'cos it gets cold ...so cold. A great opener with Dave's voice double tracked in harmony and as an "alter ego"
"Open Up" is a mid-temp funky-good jazz/soul with Dave in his best Stevie Wonder meets Stevie Winwood voice. Some fancy pickin' and sassy piano. Dave asks, "Do you know right from wrong" and suggests "open up your mind and you might find we are not so different afterall". Ultimately he's hopeful, reminding us to "keep on movin, keep on pushin". "Fool 4 U" is a story told in unison by Dave's voice and guitar. It's an upbeat ode to romance...young lovers in search for a soulmate. It keeps the soulful and jazzy vibe of "Open Up". Dave's vocal is inventive and compelling. "Bittersweet" is a straight folk song - a dialogue with a lover. He wants her to stop playing with his emotions. He loves her but she knocks him off his feet...again. It's just too hard. Too bittersweet.
Track 5, the jangly "Lonely Victory" is pure pop. It's a song about lost love, lost opportunities. Some great guitar work by Kellan.
"Amy Lay Your Had Down" has a Paul Simon "Cloudy" guitar riff, bass weaving in and out, and a fine vocal by Kellan. He possesses a remarkable range. He can sing powerful/gritty or soft and sweet. He sings low and breathless then soars into falsetto. He does it all here. In this song he sings of unrequited love, "I'll wait for an eternity, but that's not enough...'cos I need and want you so". But he's "dying" for her and has "cried out all those tears". "Rainy Day" is the narrative cousin to "Amy" as Dave wonders why "feelings have to end". Dave's guitar complements and punctuates his vocal. Is there anywhere to go, when there is nothing left to run to? Just save your love for a rainy day!!!
On "With the Sun Shinin", Dave harmonizes with his lead, sounding like Richard Manuel singing high harmony over Levon Helm on Up On Cripple Creek(or anything from the Band's first lp "Big Pink"). Dave's guitar, meshes perfectly with Cohn's spare piano and Wareham's mournful harp. A great roots/bluesy track
"Nothing is a mid-temp love song". Dave's electric guitar accentuates the feeling...a feeling so strong, so deep that words can't adequately describe. A paen to true and abiding love. Does it exist?
Track 10, "Love Tolls" is a companion to the previous track. It's a cool funkified rap about love's search. A background harp serves as a counterpoint that reveals the protagonist's loneliness.
"Comin Over Me" is about a troubled relaionship. The singer assures her that he will give all he's got but knows they've both been a bit "crazy" lately. And that something's been comin over him... like the "pouring rain" or a "heavy snow"
"All Along" is a ballad about love turned sour. It is part confessional and part realization. The singer begins to understand that it's time for them to part...that the relationship has come to an end.
"This Picture' is a funky R&B/Rap groove. It conveys the code of the street and the creed of the urban poets. "Everybody's chillin', killin' time". But is there a difference between black & white? Can it be only seen?
"Slipped Away" is an electric rocker with a rich aural landscape that recalls early '70's Steely Dan. Great Kellan vocal.
The disc closes with "Been Thinkin' Of" - a cool latin vibe that describes the vagaries of love. Love is supposed to last forever but...
Whew!!!15 tunes just for you. This is Dave Kellan at his most driven. The narrative is consistent throughout the disc....a questioning, a wondering...from a true seeker. Expect great things from Kellan. It's on the horizon...just "Open Up".
The Charms - Pussycat
I get this package through the mail, very charming...uh…hmm...sorry. So I tear open the package with my eager paws, not a clue about what’s on the inside but just diggin’ the surprise like it’s Christmas morning and I’ve been a good boy, well, almost but Santa felt generous and what I’ve done isn’t all that bad, so he forgives me and I finally get a real present instead of a bowl of cold porridge and a lump of coal - and lo and behold - it’s the Charm’s Pussycat CD and the cover is filled with all these wondrous colors - yellow, blue, red, maroon – and two slender but downright sexy girls are yankin’ on each other’s hair half grimacing but really getting’ a rush over it and now they’re even more sexy, so I wanna know what’s on the inside, what’s the music like. So I listen to the CD and it adds about 15 years to my life, like the fountain of youth. These audacious punk renegades gave me an injection of some good old rock 'n roll, made all my aches and pains go away and now, suddenly, I can put my arm above my head and do the jitterbug. Loved it. I grew up listening to the MC 5 (they played my high school senior party), the Stooges, Bob Seger, and Suzi Quatro (the Pleasure Seekers) and they were great and all but I'm absolutely taken by the Charms. None of them Michigan rockers got a jump on the Charms, no way - and I'm lovin’ the idea that Boston’s favorite band is droppin’ by White's Bar during their nationwide tour.
And the Charm's music, that ever lovin’ irreverent sassy rock ‘n roll music, well - it’ll chew you up and spit you out – and then yer gonna like it, see...so let me tell ya, just take a listen and you’ll know what I’m talking about, ‘cos you’re gonna feel it in your loins like it’s all too wet to woo and then you’ll realize that these chicks are singin' them good ol' Kosmic punk blues like Mark Lindsey when he was a rack jobber in Portland, steppin’ out like a cobbler – just check out Action, or what about Gimme That Shot - sounds alot like Joan Jett meets...hmm...Joan Jett. And they romp and wail “down on me style” on DBID like Janis doin too much Southern Comfort and just a coupla black beauties in order to sing it bluesy and soulful and to stay awake for the next round. PERFECT.
The Charms borrow a “Be My Baby” riff for Dream but revive it with an injection of raw power and dash of Ronnie Spector singin “oh, oh, oh, oh”. The aggressive “come hither but don’t fuck with me or else” tease of Pussycat had my head spinning. I just love the tussle of sexual politics. Losing My Addiction had the power of Eddie Cochran and the angst of the Who mixed with the sheer willfulness of Courtney Love... don’t scoff, Hole in their prime were absolutely real and glorious...just ‘cos I say so!
The Charms’ Pussycat CD is like takin' a hit of pure adrenaline. This is rock 'n roll the way it should be played like if Ronnie Spector and Reg Presley had a love child and the godmother was Kate Pierson. The Charms slug me right in the chest with their energy and balls. MY-MY-MY Generation seems kinda tame by comparison like an oldies show or something equally as creepy. Nope this is the real thing. It's Iggy singin' 1969 at the Delta Pops Festival and me not believing my eyes or ears. Kim Fowley and the Runaways could take a lesson from these upstarts. Who do they think they are, anyway?
Best band in Boston I'd say
We need them here to inject a little life in the party...a little sparkle, rattle and hum, maybe?
This is a neck twistin' instant paralysis of every stodgy impulse to sing karaoke or join a political party. God Bless America and the farfisa and...oh yes, God Bless the Charms.
Peace
Bo White
8/17/05
Cash O’ Riley & the Downright Daddies - Get Lucky, Break Down or Die
Say what you will about the decline and fall of rock n’ roll but within the dying embers is a flicker of hope that smolders in back road honky-tonks, small clubs, and summer festivals. It is an almost cultish phenomenon that flourishes in isolated pockets across the nation. Though largely forgotten by the public, Rockabilly like the Blues seems to never go away. It just hides for awhile until a hot young rooster like Brian Setzer breathes some new life into it - 1981 was a good year indeed. Rockabilly is one of rock n’ roll’s oldest forms and its rhythmic signature is instantly recognizable yet totally obscure. We remember it as much faster than it actually was and we forget that the originators were stone punks – especially if the punk ethos is defined by attitude and a rejection of the dull and ordinary in mainstream culture. Rockabilly is pure Americana created by cultural misfits way before we ever heard of Iggy or the Sex Pistols. The music is honest to the core and absolutely corrupt. It’s anchored in deep-rooted southern spirituality and at the very same moment it is sinister and frightening. It’s real.
This is what I feel whenever I’m lucky enough to catch a show by Cash O’ Riley & the Downright Daddies. They got the spirit like it’s a new religion. They reveal the true country-punk nature of rockabilly and re-interpret the best tendencies of our forefathers while they were on their worst behavior. Cash O’ Riley’s music is transcendent as it illuminates the wisdom of the uneducated – the “damn-right truth that looks pain and sorrow right in the eye, without flinching. Listening to Cash O’ Riley is like scarfin’ down a big stack of pancakes dripping in butter and soaked with a half jar of pure maple syrup…mmm, so good. Only later your stomach is rumbling and all you got to ease the pain is a long neck PBR and a coupla a Jag-bombs. Damn right!
Just take a listen to the new cd by the peripatetic Cash O’ Riley and his righteous hooligans known as the Downright Daddies….
The disc is filled with toe tapping rhythms played at yester-years’ tempo- just right, not too fast, just enough to get you off your seat and shake your moneymaker. Cash sings with an emotional depth that puts you right square in the driver’s seat as he leads his Daddies through 13 classic rockabilly tracks - from the punk soul of the opener, Right Away, to the upbeat Workingman’s Dead harmonies of Ownsome. I’m not a purist but I do understand the enduring beauty of rockabilly and other forms of low brow rock n’ roll music. And I know that I don’t like upper crust pinky-extended pose of opera, overly rehearsed American Idol train rides, lugubrious Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals, or modern country with clichéd riffs, woopsie-do lyrics and synthesizers. I need some Cash O’ Riley so I can feel alive- just dig Cash’s husky curled lip singing, Sammy bassing’-in like A.P. Carter and Andrew Brydon’s rich full-bodied guitar sound. All but two of the songs are Cash O’ Riley originals
The up-tempo Right Away opens the disc in fine order with echoed Elvis-like vocals, an old fashioned walking bass line, and Brydon’s magnificent Telecaster – shades of Bill Kirchen paying tribute to Don Rich.
No Such Luck has a Rock This Town-vibe with beer on ice and a two-step rhythm. Country freaks can line dance to this, get lucky and come back for more. It has a big bluesy Hollywood ending that underscores the need for another ice-cold Colt 45 - ‘cos you don’t ever want it to end.
On Shy Girl, Brydon picks more notes than the ants on a Tennessee ant-hill. This is goin’ real fast, cruisin’ real slow, back seat, make out music. The standup bass solo, echoed sound, and call and response vocals remind me of a long ago time when fun was alot louder and we had a good time.
The minor chord structure along with the haunting accordion backdrop and Cash’s scratchy tortured vocal gives Bad For You a sense of foreboding…something awful is just about to come down the pike, but whatever happens between Cash and his girlfriend Ruby, it ain’t gonna end well – the timing is off and Ruby, well, you know…she takes her love to town.
Love You So is a glorious perfection from the clever lyrics and spot-on vocals to the incredible sound. It’s a celebration of life punctuated by some phenomenal steel guitar pickin ’that adds depth and dimension to the images evoked by the music. The sound landscape resonates in rich deep tones and fuels the good feeling. The lyrics betray a dark side to the celebration but that doesn’t negate the purity of the experience. Cash is able to hold all the joys and sorrows this life throws at him and lives to sing about it. This is another mid-to-up tempo Cash O’ Riley rockabilly classic. Here’s to Mary Jane!
Cash O’ Riley is the purveyor of 2 minute instant classics that I never get tired of dancing to – even if I’m only dancing in my mind. Case in point is the upbeat dialectic shuffle of By the Devil. Cash sings about opposing internal forces. He’s the arrow without a bow. He’s right and he’s wrong but maybe he’s just somewhere in the middle. But what he’s really singing about is sin and redemption. He’s been lost and found by the devil and hell bound. Yet he’s standing outside his pain and singing about it, in pure rapture.
Swore You Were Wrong is a country waltz with a moaning harp trill and righteously polite unison singing, and a brief acappella interlude with the Downright Daddies singing sweetly in parts. Cash is singing serious and sincere, as he always does, doing George Jones like a tongue looking for a cheek
South of Texas is a no-nonsense bluesy Texas shuffle clocking in at less than two minutes with a familiar stop-start riff and some phenomenal pickin’ from the Telecaster as well as the steel guitar. This is a git-er done, workhorse rockabilly at its very finest, designed to cause folks to fall all over themselves while schlepping around the dance floor.
Wrong Turn is thematically dense and layered. It has it all – sin, betrayal, and violence… in other words, it’s pure Americana. Andrew Brydon’s guitar sound is powerful and fluid - each note resonates deeply, complementing the complex emotional tangle of the lyrics. The images are insidiously surreal as the devil creeps up and becomes the perfect metaphor for Cash’s pain and suffering.
The cover of punk anthem Ball and Chain is a truly magnificent choice, it’s a song about heartbreak and the effects of too much alcohol. I’ve been there and I know the mantra, it’s really a prayer for forgiveness and release from someone who is down for the count and broken hearted - take away this ball and chain, the monkey is on my back and there seems to be no other way to get better…just a little nip to bathe my glands, ahh. This is Social Distortion’s near masterpiece about a harrowing experience that is existentially annihilating.>
The Way I Left You feels like a 50’s rocker that Jack Scott coulda sung with the Tennessee Two. It has a cool middle eight with a hand jive beat. Brydon’s guitar work continues to shine throughout the entire disc –with the intuitiveness and empathy necessary for greatness. He just may be the heir apparent to Don Rich. The lyrical themes are quietly stated but are no less devastating…it’s a breakup song and despite his anger and depression, the protagonist understands he may have caused the problem in the first place. The song ends with a slowed down 12 bar blues
Damn Right I Care has a minor key vibe with a dobro sliding up and down the scale sounding like an alter ego telling you to watch your back and get out while you can, sucker – she’s not alone. Brydon’s tuneful riffs hold the other side, the hang-in-there part of the romance. It’s a monumental battle between guitar and dobro – the curmudgeon and the optimist - and everyone wins!
Ownsome ends the disc on a glorious upbeat about the down low. Cash’s husky tear-in your- voice delivery is cradled by gorgeous harmonies supplied by the Daddies and a coupla guests. This is killer country rock ala the 1970 Grateful Dead masterpiece, Workingman’s Dead. The relationship theme is a dirty nasty brokenhearted mess – though Cash is better off now on his own…some.
That’s why I feel so liberated whenever I listen to Cash O’ Riley and the Downright Daddies. They don’t white wash it or try to make it any better, they just tell you the real story. By putting the pain outside themselves they loosen its hold and sing it with the voice of the everymanvoice. As I listened to this disc it allowed me to look at my anger and my frailties without flinching. I know that they know and somehow it’s alright. That’s what Cash is trying to teach us that Rockabilly is music with integrity. Rockabilly is Johnny Cash singin’ Ring of Fire all the while he’s sweating and trembling with dark obsessions. It’s when he finishes his brief set before its time, walks off the stage smiling and shaking hands before he rushes off to the rest room to puke up a fifth of Johnny Walker Black and a fistful of black beauties, washes off his face and grabs another fifth before finishing the show. Man that cat had stamina. Rockabilly is George Jones genuflecting as much as singing with a demonic other-worldly sorrow, joining Hank Williams in a harrowing spiritual union…to you my friend, and you my friend and we shall die together. But then Hank died alone. And George wished many times over he could have followed Hank, curling up in the back seat of his 52 Cadillac for the long sleep.
Above all Rockabilly is like an ancient lost religion with an almost forgotten holy text. Perhaps its real hero is Charlie Feathers, an obscure artist canonized by a few true believers. And though he toiled in relative anonymity, he never gave up, playing for the locals at the Hilltop, singing Tongue Tied Jill like he’s still a grease haired kid. It can all be summed up by this Feathers quote from a Robert Gordon interview in 1991 :
“There must be another world beyond this one. I don’t know why I can’t quit. You don’t think nobody cares- yet you meet people from all over the damn world…They come here and they care and they know. I don’t understand it, man”
Peace,
Bo White
The Cameo Parkway 1957-1967 Box Set
Well, let me tell ya, listening to this box set was an absolute hoot, more fun than takin' your best gal for some back seat canoe-lovin' when she's got the hiccups. Loved every minute of it. The music stirred a chain of memories a mile long and put a smile on my face. It seemed to evoke a warm summery feeling that's at once transforming and reassuring. It reminds me of my younger days when music (and my life) was, on the surface anyway, more innocent and a helluva lot less complicated. And to accomplish this musical slight-of-hand required considerable sophistication. And that perhaps is the genius Bernie Lowe and Kal Mann, middle-aged tunesmiths, writing and producing music for the burgeoning youth culture. These guys were slick, no doubt, and were able to lay down some formidable music despite the limitations of their advanced age and their eye on the market...perhaps not a limitation? Still, Lowe and Mann (and Dave Appel) thrived in this nascent form of rock 'n roll. In fact, as this 4-CD set attests, they damn near covered every possible genre and all the fads and trends in this formative decade of popular music. And it seems that, unknowingly, in their calculated appeal to the teen market, they inadvertently showed us the interconnectedness of seemingly different forms of music and, in doing so, revealed the potential for tolerance and diversity. Alas, this was more hidden than known and it was pretty much unspoken, perhaps too heavy a topic to scaffold dance music, so it was never quite articulated or developed until just a bit later by folks like Sly Stone, Les McCann, the Moody Blues, and other icons of the late sixties.
You gotta make some precious ching to make it in the recording industry and Cameo Parkway's brief yet incredible run of success is testimony to their somewhat gutsy and unorothodox manner of doing business. From 1957 - 1967, the Cameo Parkway team crafted an incredible body of music ranging from Brill Building formulaic Philly-based tune-smithing to jazz, R&B, country, British Invasion, and Midwest garage rock. There are so many forgotten "classics" in the box set that I'd find myself thinking (again and again), "My god...they did "THAT". Ah yes, and the songs that I didn't know...I remembered them too, just for the hell of it.
The set contains a nice booklet with photos and a great set of liner notes tha's both informative and interesting. The first ever Cameo release (not included) was Arlene Demarco's Old Enough To Know. It went nowhere. But the 6th release Butterfly, written by Mann and Lowe and recorded by Charlie Green, hit paydirt. And though it sounds just a bit trite, it went gold and opens disc one in this set. Lowe and Mann continued to dominate the creative juices at Cameo Parkway. And for middle-aged hacks, they created an impressive body of music. And they dominated the "Dance Craze" boom from approximately 1960 to 1963, a Herculean accomplishment to be sure! Included in this set are a total 14 "dance songs" from the Watusi to the Bird and back to the Bristol Stomp, which catapulted Cameo Parkway to a prominent role in the race for teen dollars. In the meantime, despite such measured calculation, the creative team of Mann, Appel, and Lowe created a catalog that is memorable and a whole lotta fun. You may recall the Twist, Slow Twistin', Let's Twist Again, Teach Me to Twist, The Pony, The Limbo Rock...well, you get the idea, doncha. It's all cool, in fact, it was an incredible feat of repeating the same song, chord progression, and lyrical themes over and over again, and a type of self plagiarism that is wickedly adroit and kinda fun. I mean, for chrissakes, how many times can Chubby re-do the Twist without revealing its origins? Is the public that unsuspecting and preocuppied? So... how low can you go?
The Twist, in and of itself, is a remarkable story. It was written and recorded by Hank Ballard and his version made it to the top ten in R&B charts but when he failed to show for a slot on American Bandstand, Dick Clark, encouraged a young lad by the name of Ernest Evans aka Chubby Checker to record the song. The power of televison played a role in making the Twist a #1 hit in 1960 and repeating that success in 1962. In the end, Chubby had the last laugh, and his unprecedented double-dip success with "The Twist" makes his self-promotion to the Rock 'N Roll Hall of Fame a tad more sympathetic.
Cameo Parkway's dominance in the youth market was in no small way a function of their working relationship with Dick Clark and their facility for providing easily accessible entertainment to American Bandstand, especially for the occasional no show. But it was heartthrob Bobby Rydell who was primarily responsible for Cameo Parkway's ascendance starting with a string of hits from 1959 to 1963 that included Kissin' Time, We Got Love, Wild One, Swingin' School, and Forget Him. Rydell was the most talented of the Philly-based "Teen Idols" and possessed an incredible set of pipes, great comic timing, and he was an accomplished musician (drums). My mother had his "Golden Hits" album along with albums by Dion and the Everly Brothers. And at the time, I felt that Rydell held his own with these (now) better known rock icons. Rydell's "smile in his voice" presentation of teen angst (Wild One) seemed to compliment Dion's street-punk smarts (The Wanderer) and the Everly Brother's down-home edginess(Cathy's Clown). But Rydell wasn't alone in helping make Cameo-Parkway a powerhouse. The fabulous Dovells are represented by three great tracks. Led by the soulful vocals of Len Barry, they hit the mark with the stone classic, You Can't Sit Down. The Thymes' So Much in Love was a monster hit that owes a considerable debt to Johnny Mathis, just check their cover of Wonderful Wonderful and you'll find the origins of this gorgeous summertime ballad. Even the tacky gets it goin', like Jo Ann Campbell's The Girl From Wolverton Mountain, or Senator Bobby's Wild Thing - would even make the Troggs cringe, or Patti Labelle doin' Danny Boy, or what about Screaming Lord Sutch creepin' us out with She's Fallen In Love With The Monster Man... each one a "SO BAD IT'S GOOD" classic that helped me smile away my breakfast and take a brisk walk through Central Park.
Being from Michigan, I was pleased that Michigan rock bands were so well represented in this box set. Question Mark & the Mysterians led the way with three tracks including their #1 1966 garage-rock masterpiece 96 Tears. The Rationals' Respect predates Aretha's soulful hit version, and as good as Aretha gets it, I still favor the Rationals' modest garage rock reading. And for my money, singer Scott Morgan has one of the best voices in rock 'n roll, or at least during the heyday of "Michigan Rock" (from approximately 1966-1970)and went on to fame - or infamy - as a singer/guitarist with the Sonic Rendezvous Band with Fred Sonic Smith (MC5) and Scott Asheton (the Stooges). Bob Seger's Heavy Music is perhaps his best song, an undiscovered rock classic. Problem is, he recreated it over and over again, with each version worst than the last. In this manner Heavy Music begat Ramblin' Gamblin' Man (still great) which spawned Rock And Roll Never Forgets (not bad) which inspired Old Time Rock and Roll - a massive hit that is a plodding, dirge-like appeal to the masses...dumb it down and suck out all the youthful energy of the original and ya got a hit, son! In 1966, Terry Knight & the Pack was one of the premier bands from Mid-Michigan and they competed directly with label mates, Dick Wagner & the Bossmen, for the local crown. Though Knight may not been as talented as Wagner, he beat him to the punch with I (Who Have Nothing), a wonderfully moody track with a dramatic reading. All and all, it's a superb performance.
The Cameo Parkway Box has a number of great and wonderful surprises. Bunny Siegler's Let The Good Times Roll/Feel So Good is simply incredible, great energy and a powerful production makes this one of the sets standout tracks...just knocks me out! Former Beatles drummer Pete Best does a fine post-Beatles version of Boys and Sounds Orchestral's jazzed up instrumental reading of Cast Your Fate To The Wind is a sweeping and majestic panorama of sound and feeling with considerable technique thrown in for good measure. Chris Bartley's The Sweetest Thing This Side Of Heaven is an out & out Motown classic, only it's not Motown, go figure. And the Kink's dismal cover of Long Tall Sally is revelatory in that it portrays them, warts and all, before they found their own voice.
So here is an incendiary "Box Set" from an outrageous label that dared to be anything it wanted to be, damn the torpedos and full speed ahead. So all you aging boomers take heed, you really do matter, and if you take a chance and purchase this little jewel of a collection, I think you'll discover, in the deepest regions of its modest packaging, all the best and worst impulses of your generation.
Peace
Bo White
6/20/05
Brush Lopez Trio - Live at White's Bar CD
Recorded at White's Bar on September 16,2001, "Brush/Lopez (with Mark Dault) Live" is like a phone call from an old lover. It's warm and comforting with more than a hint of sensuousness. The vibe is relaxed and underscored by a message of love and friendship. It's a mature work performed by consummate artists. Mike Brush is an exceptional keyboardist with an expressive bluesy vocal style that recalls Tom Waits and the more sensual musings of Boz Scaggs. Ron Lopez is one of the most tasteful and economical guitarists this side of Wes Montgomery. And Mark Dault..well..he's just one helluva drummer. He is attuned to musical spaces and the ambient tones he creates to accentuate the trio's overall sound. A true master that doesn't forget the "feel" of the music. This 8 song set captures the trio in a "Cool Jazz" groove with hints of 12-bar blues (afterall, jazz is derived from the blues), glorious be-bop syncopation, and Gershwin/Kahn pop tunes. So put it in your CD player, cuddle up with your favorite partner, and prepare yourself for a night of musical lovemakin'...
A walkin' bassline opens the disc with Delbert McClinton's "Cease and Desist". A great tune elevated by the generous virtuosity of Brush's piano and Lopez' guitar. Solos are traded off but never invade and possess the song structure. The instruments enter the song, accentuate the message, and fade from the foreground. Musical economy at it's finest! "Our Love Is Here to Stay" is an ode to love and hope. To the backdrop of Brush's mid-tempo arrangement, some tasty fretwork by Lopez, and syncopated accents by Dault, the listener truly feels the protaganist will prevail and love will win in the end. The next song, "Your Mind Is On Vacation", is from the catalog of the iconoclastic Mose Allison. The lyrical themes convey Allison's sardonic humor. But it's the quirky piano solo and offbeat chordings and bluesy rhythms that elevate the total impact of the song. Brush's piano is red-hot.... absolutely breathtaking! "Walking My Baby Home" recalls an earlier time. A time of innocence. Imagine a couple holding hands, kickin through the autumn leaves, and making big plans on a lovers' stroll. "A Nighingale Sang in Berkeley" is a thematic match to the previous track. But the music is at once more majestic and melancholy. Track six, "Jack", is a Brush original that honors the memory of mentor and friend Jack Bruske. The music's uptempo arrangement complements Brush's warm and personal lyrics. It's a compelling tribute and the highlight of the album. Brush, like Bruske, is a "heavy cat" indeed. "Pennies From Heaven" has a strollin' laid back vibe and a sonic sweetness that underscores the positive "take the good out of the bad" message of the song. Brush sings convincingly with Lopez answering with rich tonal fretwork. "It Had To Be You" is the perfect closer as it captures and refrains the overall message of love and friendship of the album. Lopez' guitar work is notable. His solos are rich and pure as he bends and strings notes with a remarkable musical economy. Less can be more.
So there you are, an elpees worth of "cool jazz". Go ahead, put it in the machine, lay back, and make a little love....that's what it's all about.
Brett Mitchell – Small House
Sit back, kick your feet up and prepare yourself for some of the best latte rock since Emitt Rhodes left Merry-Go-Round and did American Dream. Melodic pop never got much better than Rhodes’ You’re A Very Lovely Woman. Sure there were some mighty efforts put forth – Badfinger’s No Matter What, Todd Rundgren’s Hello It’s Me and Big Star’s September Gurls – but none could match the pure power-pop genius of Paul McCartney. From Yesterday to Helter Skelter and his stone masterpiece Maybe I’m Amazed, McCartney became the Holy Grail to many an aspiring pop singer. Brett Mitchell is among the legion of Sir Paul devotees as is his producer, former Haskels’ front man Andy Reed. Remember the Haskels’ splendid magnum opus, Rewind or the glorious Let Down - wonder if a Jedi could do that one?
After an early incarnation as strong-arm power drummer for Gutbucket Blues Band, Mitchell morphed into a sweet honey-toned singer songwriter and blew us all away with his 2005 debut release Brett Mitchell (STEREO) that featured such gems as Sun Is Leaving with its gorgeous cello backdrop, the late-sixties-Kinks-inspired Defrost and the playful good time rim-clickin’ Goes My Way (with the wondrous Dave Kellan singing background). Like his idols Wheezer, Mitchell can swing sweet and soft but he can rock yer socks off too!
But before I review each of the songs on this glorious CD let me tell you the story – the real story – about how Brett Mitchell found the inspiration for Small House…
At the most unexpected times Brett’s memory swings back to his college days - sleeping-in till noon, pulling all nighters on those black bennies his suite-mate cuffed from a street vendor and the infamous swirly incident and… oh yeah…that lovely coed from Australia who called him “baby” and turned up at odd hours dressed only in a Bogie-like white trench coat and ready to go. Initially she was attracted to his strong wrists and would squeeze and kiss them like she was feeding a fetish or something...it kinda creeped him out though he really liked it. She told him she used to date the drummer from Air Supply and she found that drummers made great lovers. She loved the rough and tumble sexual gymnastics, the way he would thrust her into odd tangled-up positions – she learned so much from her athletic lover and proved to be such an eager pupil. Brett could only smile whenever he thought of her - you know that crooked half smile like he was Elvis or something. But when sweet pants learned that Brett’s musical ambitions had changed and he was beginning to sing (and oh, what a voice he had) and write songs, she decided full out to fall-in-love with him. She thought of herself as an erstwhile Patti Harrison and hoped she might inspire Brett to write great love songs like Something or Wonderful Tonight or especially her favorite song - Mandy…Mandy? But before it got too serious she jumped ship and left for Arkansas to campaign for Huckabee. She loved his Faith, Family, Freedom slogan - the sound of it, not the meaning - and sang back-up in his band Capital Offense. Some say she was the one who convinced Huckabee to run for the Presidency. Stump, caucus and rock n’ roll - politics is just too sexy!
Now THAT is what inspired Brett to write and record Small House…
HONEST.
And what a colorful musical landscape Brett creates on this disc. He’s the post-modern Georgia O’Keefe of rock n’ roll, painting his songs with such vibrancy and erotic tension while still evoking a quiet beauty in the music. This is in artist in transition, maturing and reaching his enormous potential while still achieving balance and centeredness.
The disc opens with Born Too Late a great mid-temp rocker with a riff straight outta the Cars songbook and musical landscape colored by the layered doodling of a moog synthesizer. This is a hook-filled joy to behold with an irreverence that captures the spirit of Cash, Lennon and the other masters mentioned in the lyrics.
Small House is a metaphor for a day in the life of a working musician, trying to make it - at least beyond the county line. It’s hard work, long hours and doesn’t always pay well. It’s both exhilarating and demoralizing, depending on the gig and the crowd response - do they ever really get it? All in all, the small house can prepare you for something bigger.
Don’t Worry About Me. This is Bob Marley meets Paul Simon – a reggaefied pop treat that seems to be the third movement in the opening trilogy of related songs about being a musician. Common themes include sleeplessness, loneliness, solitude, and relationships – problems that seem preordained for the lifestyle.
Friend is an ode to love and friendship and is one of the most beautiful songs on the disc. Mitchell’s pure tenor is used to great effect and helps convey his search for closeness and spiritual longing. Indeed, Mitchell’s voice is one of the best instruments on the CD. This is no small praise as the supporting cast of Mike Cramton (drums, conga, and percussion) Tim. Puckett (piano, lap steel, harpsichord), Bill Hall (bass), and Andy Reed (bass, producer) are superb – MONSTERS on each of their instruments!
Head in the Clouds is a cool jazz ballad beautifully sung with Mitchell’s vibraphone adding effect. The lyrical theme is about stasis – playing the same old songs and the uncertainty about an ongoing relationship. Everything seems so endlessly dull yet so temporary. And though he feels stuck, he can escape to the promise of the clouds…and he will not be tied down.
New Disease has a damn good hook and the metaphor is perfect. Hey dude…so what keeps you dippin’ the wicket in this crummy relationship? Church Lady says it’s the devil – and spells it S-E-X.
Going Away has a fifties Earth Angel vibe and is sung so high and pretty it makes me wanna moon & june and listen to some more. This is a breakup song that’s far too lovely to be a breakup song. But Mitchell puts just enough cry in his voice to get the message across.
Last Chance is a funky minor chord classic that has a foreboding tone and a dialectical message containing multiple truths - it’s just another day and this is your last chance. Every day you face moral dilemmas and make choices to live with integrity or to cast your values aside. These decisions can be both small and large. What is the price of betraying your beliefs?
Hypocrite seems to complete the theme introduced in Last Chance. It is a mid-tempo dose of vitriol aimed directly at one’s self – it’s our internal judge, a voice that rarely reaches consciousness and fills our soul with shame. Oftentimes these internal criticisms are projected onto others, mirroring our own culpability.
OCD is a baroque twist done in waltz time. The use of harpsichord recalls the sound of Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite from Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. This is a straight-up examination of a heart-wrenching struggle with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, an anxiety based problem that can be absolutely devastating. Breathe and find a way to fearlessness.
Night Glasses. Mitchell’s gorgeous tenor shines in this oblique soliloquy to one’s night labors, when one’s day is night and your body learns to take it in stride -even when its tough to hang onto what is right.
Consider Me Gone is a protest song that speaks to the dilemma posed in Night Glasses. Mitchell’s urgent echoed vocal recalls Billy Joel in A Matter of Trust. War is a metaphor for a relationship and the relationship just may be with his homeland, his girl, his fans. All is one.
Neighbors brings the protest front and center and decries war, death, and destruction. This is a tough message wrapped in a folk/blues shuffle. Mitchell is stretching out as an artist, revealing diverse musical shadings and a deeper lyrical perspective.
Good Intentions is just Brett and his acoustic. This is a soft beautiful song with some of Brett’s most heartfelt singing. The lyrics express Mitchell’s spiritual longing and his awakening to something bigger. Onion is a metaphor for resilience, the something deeper inside of us that keep us holding on. Puckett’s piano and Mitchell’s insistent guitar riff underscores the songs message of hope and faith. Life can cause us to doubt ourselves like an onion we can peel the layers back to reveal more than meets the eye. An affirmation and a great closer.
So there you have it. If you’re tired of the overproduced, ultra-compressed digital sound blasts that foul the airwaves and you wanna git yer paws on something home cooked and wreckorded then Brett Mitchell’s Small House is for you -
It’s sweeter than a fresh Baci di Dama and is about as much fun as tooling down the back roads in your’69 Mustang, top down and the sunshine kissing your face.
Peace
Bo White
Big Foot Bob & the Toe Tappers....That About Covers it
Another album of covers?
It's not a travesty of talent or a dearth of creativity. Afterall, Lennon did it. So did Van Morrison. Big Foot Bob is keepin' some fine company. And they have some pretty impressive credentials to back it up. These stellar "musicianers" have traveled up and down the highways of the American Dream for awhile and have approached the status of Lomaxian miners excavating an almost forgotten musical legacy. Nothing is beyond the scope of their craft. Their sound is like a wave of warm spring air after an exceptionally cold winter. Maybe it's the authenticity of the music. Or it could be their intuitive "knowing" what is musically compelling. And yet is just might be their love and appreciation for the pure expression of what is indelibly human. A fundamental assumption about musical integrity and that something important is reaching your ears. Regardless, these cats have created the most righteous musical landscape since Sinatra met Dorsey. Believe me, this music ain't archeology. It's timeless. And it's not the type of art one carries in a suitcase. No scratchin' discs on a turntable and shouting "YEAH" over a sampled rhythm track. Real instruments and real music.
Starting with the rockin' B-3 fed cool jazz of Paul B. Allen, the Toe Tappers have fashioned an elegant tapestry of All-American music. The covers aren't just obscure nuggets or gems of unrecognized genius. No, they have the audacity to record and transform HITS. Like puttin' the "Joe Cocker" to their gospel version of Lennon's take on Dylan on Hide Your Love Away . They pay respectful homage to Ray Charles on the blues masterpiece Georgia On My Mind and swing like Taj Mahal on Ain't Nobody Gonna Steal My Jelly Roll. And Bob Schultz' emotive vocal on Compared To What rivals Les McCann's iconoclastic version. His barely contained rage targets political hypocrisy. The sense of betrayal is palpable. And timely...
The disc closes with a joyful paradox on the Dixieland-inspired workout of Cocaine Habit Blues. It is simply sublime.
Bob Schultz is the leader of the band. He is a soulful vocalist with a great sense of style and nuance. His instrumental prowess on piano and saxophone is more than notable...it's exceptional. The core of the band includes Danny Hare (Guitar), Wayne Morton (Bass), Bubba Grundner (drums) and they are uniformly superb throughout. The Toe Tappers are joined by an all-star cast of sometime band-mates David Huber (saxophone) and Doug Decker (piano, organ), and the late/great Jerry Glassel (guitar).
Big Foot Bob and the Toe Tappers just may be a throwback to a long ago time when music was...well... more musical. A time when hearing a live band was sheer delight. The energy of the music drove our passions. It was like taking a kernel of corn at room temperature, adding salt and butter, and heating it up. Bob Schultz and his assorted minstrels do just that. They heat up a wondrous musical stew that incorporates seemingly diverse influences such as jazz, blues, gospel, country, and rock.
And so it goes...
T-Bone meets Louis Jordan in a seamless musical archetype that puts a smile on your lips and a spring in your step. So go ahead slap on the disc and divine the mysteries that unfold between the grooves.
Bo White
April 22, 2004
Ok folks, this is my humble contribution to BFB's CD...the "official" liner notes. I just hope I did it justice
Thanks guys...I love yer style
Bo
Bazooka Jones Gots What It Takes; Knows How To Use It
Bazooka Jones is one of the most exciting bands on today’s scene. Their brand of hook-laden rock and roll thunder and Gore-Gore-Girl group retro is a refreshing return to music that can get you revved-up and thinking that life can be fun after all.
At center stage is a foxy beautiful singer with the non de plume of Viagra. Well, I’d swallow that pill any day, stiff neck and all. She flat out sings her ass off, completely free and uninhibited, like the love shack child of Reg Presley and Kate Pierson. She possesses a marvelous range that allows her to sing like Chrissie Hynde over the power chords, hiccup like Holly or whisper sweet and Lolita-like before the music kicks-in
Hey…OK … I gotta admit - I jones for Viagra but this band is more than the sum of its parts. Each player contributes significantly to the overall sound, feel, look and vibe of Bazooka Jones. Sure, they look a bit oddly drecked out and surreal but that only adds to the fun and helps obscure a sometimes deeper message about commitment, love and the primacy of relationship. It could put off a fan base that comes of age plugged in, turned around and seeking a quick fix.
The guitarist - Mr. Bullethead Jones - is fantastic, slamming out power chords like a skinny Van Halen riffing as if his life depended on it. He crafts stinging solos that hit that E-string with a vengeance yet never neglects the bass line, giving his sound a sonic depth that Kenny Olson would give his left nut for. His power and plunder virtuosity recalls the ascendance of our early guitar heroes before the big hair and trickle-down lies of the eighties would ramp up the discord and change our country forever.
This is much more fun.
The drummer Billy Love is an absolute powerhouse Bonham-eyed monster of a time keeper. He pounds them skins like Johnny Wadd giving it to Misty Dawn for about the umpteenth time and ol’ Misty getting’ off on the last thrust just as much as the first stroke. Love’s beat packs more wallop than a Chuck Morris roundhouse kick and wipes out any doubt that this band came to town to rock yer socks off.
Bazooka Jones is a bizarre-looking, genre jumping testosterone fueled band led by a mighty she-girl and they have more balls than Denny Laine coming on to Lovely Linda with the old man sleeping-it-off in the next room. In other words, they rock.
Their debut CD is a nuclear-powered sonic landscape akin to Apollo 11 blasting off to the moon @ G-Force. The opening two tracks packed the most unexpected and powerful 1-2 wallop since Cheney shot his best corporate buddy in the ass back in naught-six. Pants Off opens the disc with a ferocious gut wrenching gale-force power that takes my breath away and gets me thinking about takin’ a cold shower. This steroid-enhanced chest-pounding slam-fest is a direct descendant of Stepping Stone, Paul Revere’s version, with Mark Lindsey puffed-up and growling like a wild banshee, only Viagra has him beat by a mile. She not only steps up the heat she sets the whole place on fire, Ooh Poo Pah Doo this!
She Wants Me continues the stab-in-the-chest primal ear shattering glory that any died-in-the-wool Kinks fan could appreciate. The sexual ambiguities in the lyrics are a total orgasmic turn-on… and great fun.
Love up has a fifties bee-hive girl group feel that could even get a rise outta Spector as he sits strapped-in and ready to take the juice. This is sing-a-long song with a great rhythmic vibe. I can envision the dance floor filled with “girls and boys makin’ tons of noise, shaking their bones to Bazooka Jones”. Hell…even I shake my groove thing to Love Up…and I thought I lost it a coupla months back at Walmart. Oh baby!! Swinging on the Moon is power pop ballad sung sweet and pure and it makes you believe in love, at least for the moment. The singer’s been around the piss pot a few times and isn’t sure she can find the handle. She does… but her grasp is loosening.
Goodbye Mr. Nice Guy is one of the best kiss-off songs I’ve ever heard. It’s filled with a wondrous dialectic with tongue firmly in cheek e.g., anytime is the right time to say goodbye or he likes to see her cum, she likes to see him go…AMEN sister girl! That rehearsed nicely nice boy is a bit creepy - wonder what’s beneath the mask - a future Bank of America executive?
The lone cover, a heavy version of Lee Hazlewood’s These Boots Were Made For Walking, flashes a memory of Nancy Sinatra dropping the microphone on Sullivan, bending over to reveal her lovely cantilevered and mini-skirted derrière– and at the very moment she mooned the screen - sales went up to a half million! Truth.
Bazooka Ride is the most blatant attempt to fashion bubblegum leer-ics in the best tradition of Kasentz and Katz but it also seems to tag some autobiographical material like pink guitars and whammy bars - the Legend of Bazooka Jones?
Girl on Fire is a break-up song – a song of liberation, freedom the shackles of a controlling relationship. And Life of the Party seems to fit nicely as its companion piece. It might be telling the story of Edie Sedgwick and her central role in the Warhol myth. But it could be about any person with ambition who confronts a dilemma and has to make a choice.
Drive-in Boy opens with a drum riff straight outta the Human Beinz’ Nobody But Me. This is a grievous tale of role reversal. The girl is treating the boy like boys treat girls. Damn sex objects - love Viagra’s panting pastiche that recalls Reg Presley’s lascivious moans on Strange Movies, a great Troggs song featured on Bowie’s ’73 Midnight Special TV show.
Perfect One is a rollicking ballad about love and commitment – when two become a couple…the perfect one. A song guaranteed to get your foot tappin’ and put a smile on your face.
BABYFOOLAROUND is a funky fun tribute to the Troggs with shades of Come Now (the MC5 powered-up version) and a glorious mid-song riff borrowed from Wild Thing - a great closer to one of the best CDs of 2006 (and 2007).
Bazooka Jones is currently recording their next elpee worth of tunes entitled Sweet Tooth Crud. Stay tuned! Check them out @ www.bazookajones.com or myspace.com/bazookajonesdetroit.
Peace,
Bo White
At center stage is a foxy beautiful singer with the non de plume of Viagra. Well, I’d swallow that pill any day, stiff neck and all. She flat out sings her ass off, completely free and uninhibited, like the love shack child of Reg Presley and Kate Pierson. She possesses a marvelous range that allows her to sing like Chrissie Hynde over the power chords, hiccup like Holly or whisper sweet and Lolita-like before the music kicks-in
Hey…OK … I gotta admit - I jones for Viagra but this band is more than the sum of its parts. Each player contributes significantly to the overall sound, feel, look and vibe of Bazooka Jones. Sure, they look a bit oddly drecked out and surreal but that only adds to the fun and helps obscure a sometimes deeper message about commitment, love and the primacy of relationship. It could put off a fan base that comes of age plugged in, turned around and seeking a quick fix.
The guitarist - Mr. Bullethead Jones - is fantastic, slamming out power chords like a skinny Van Halen riffing as if his life depended on it. He crafts stinging solos that hit that E-string with a vengeance yet never neglects the bass line, giving his sound a sonic depth that Kenny Olson would give his left nut for. His power and plunder virtuosity recalls the ascendance of our early guitar heroes before the big hair and trickle-down lies of the eighties would ramp up the discord and change our country forever.
This is much more fun.
The drummer Billy Love is an absolute powerhouse Bonham-eyed monster of a time keeper. He pounds them skins like Johnny Wadd giving it to Misty Dawn for about the umpteenth time and ol’ Misty getting’ off on the last thrust just as much as the first stroke. Love’s beat packs more wallop than a Chuck Morris roundhouse kick and wipes out any doubt that this band came to town to rock yer socks off.
Bazooka Jones is a bizarre-looking, genre jumping testosterone fueled band led by a mighty she-girl and they have more balls than Denny Laine coming on to Lovely Linda with the old man sleeping-it-off in the next room. In other words, they rock.
Their debut CD is a nuclear-powered sonic landscape akin to Apollo 11 blasting off to the moon @ G-Force. The opening two tracks packed the most unexpected and powerful 1-2 wallop since Cheney shot his best corporate buddy in the ass back in naught-six. Pants Off opens the disc with a ferocious gut wrenching gale-force power that takes my breath away and gets me thinking about takin’ a cold shower. This steroid-enhanced chest-pounding slam-fest is a direct descendant of Stepping Stone, Paul Revere’s version, with Mark Lindsey puffed-up and growling like a wild banshee, only Viagra has him beat by a mile. She not only steps up the heat she sets the whole place on fire, Ooh Poo Pah Doo this!
She Wants Me continues the stab-in-the-chest primal ear shattering glory that any died-in-the-wool Kinks fan could appreciate. The sexual ambiguities in the lyrics are a total orgasmic turn-on… and great fun.
Love up has a fifties bee-hive girl group feel that could even get a rise outta Spector as he sits strapped-in and ready to take the juice. This is sing-a-long song with a great rhythmic vibe. I can envision the dance floor filled with “girls and boys makin’ tons of noise, shaking their bones to Bazooka Jones”. Hell…even I shake my groove thing to Love Up…and I thought I lost it a coupla months back at Walmart. Oh baby!! Swinging on the Moon is power pop ballad sung sweet and pure and it makes you believe in love, at least for the moment. The singer’s been around the piss pot a few times and isn’t sure she can find the handle. She does… but her grasp is loosening.
Goodbye Mr. Nice Guy is one of the best kiss-off songs I’ve ever heard. It’s filled with a wondrous dialectic with tongue firmly in cheek e.g., anytime is the right time to say goodbye or he likes to see her cum, she likes to see him go…AMEN sister girl! That rehearsed nicely nice boy is a bit creepy - wonder what’s beneath the mask - a future Bank of America executive?
The lone cover, a heavy version of Lee Hazlewood’s These Boots Were Made For Walking, flashes a memory of Nancy Sinatra dropping the microphone on Sullivan, bending over to reveal her lovely cantilevered and mini-skirted derrière– and at the very moment she mooned the screen - sales went up to a half million! Truth.
Bazooka Ride is the most blatant attempt to fashion bubblegum leer-ics in the best tradition of Kasentz and Katz but it also seems to tag some autobiographical material like pink guitars and whammy bars - the Legend of Bazooka Jones?
Girl on Fire is a break-up song – a song of liberation, freedom the shackles of a controlling relationship. And Life of the Party seems to fit nicely as its companion piece. It might be telling the story of Edie Sedgwick and her central role in the Warhol myth. But it could be about any person with ambition who confronts a dilemma and has to make a choice.
Drive-in Boy opens with a drum riff straight outta the Human Beinz’ Nobody But Me. This is a grievous tale of role reversal. The girl is treating the boy like boys treat girls. Damn sex objects - love Viagra’s panting pastiche that recalls Reg Presley’s lascivious moans on Strange Movies, a great Troggs song featured on Bowie’s ’73 Midnight Special TV show.
Perfect One is a rollicking ballad about love and commitment – when two become a couple…the perfect one. A song guaranteed to get your foot tappin’ and put a smile on your face.
BABYFOOLAROUND is a funky fun tribute to the Troggs with shades of Come Now (the MC5 powered-up version) and a glorious mid-song riff borrowed from Wild Thing - a great closer to one of the best CDs of 2006 (and 2007).
Bazooka Jones is currently recording their next elpee worth of tunes entitled Sweet Tooth Crud. Stay tuned! Check them out @ www.bazookajones.com or myspace.com/bazookajonesdetroit.
Peace,
Bo White
Friday, February 11, 2011
Banana Convention - Dirty Negatives
Banana Convention’s been happening for awhile now and they have weathered more poundings than a catholic girl’s camel toe at high school band camp – it’s more than music being laid down in them woods, mother…
“No one will see us, c’mon over here…under the tree
But…ah…do you have any protection?
Umm…ah …no - but I’ll be careful
You sure?
I promise –I just need to be with you…I…ah…I loooove you
You do?
Ouch, put down yer flute, will ya
Ohh, I’m sorry…ok
Move your elbow
Ouch, that hurts!
How do you unbuckle that damn razzamfraszzzam
Here let me…
Ohh baby…
ohh baby…yes, oh YES
Oh baby…babybabybaby…OH YES…OOOOHHH - oops, sorry.
But the natural state of reality is change and BC has evolved with a series of events that unfolded and brought a welcome new energy into the band. Sometimes things get stale and this quality of stasis becomes a signal to another crossroad - an opportunity to let go and open up to the moment. It’s a state of mind that doesn’t disparage the past or idealize the future. Dirty Negatives is part of a dialectic of creativity and change. The music is edgier and rocks hard and heavy at points yet still retains elements of that early 60’s girl group sound that enamored so many of Banana Convention’s early fans. The addition of one of Ray Torres, one Saginaw’s most innovative guitarists, no doubt boosted their musical capital and between Shar Molina’s husky soulful vocals, Monte Nothelfer’s excellent songwriting, the multiple talents of drummer Chris Howard and the surprisingly fluid and powerful basslines of Sean Drysdale the Banana Convention has a tight stripped down lineup that is ready to rock. The musical focus is no longer bubblegum – though that is always a worthy goal – it is an updated amalgam of styles and approaches that range from Motown to classic rock and experimental sounds. This is a time of possibilities…
The disc opens with Creed, a piece of ambient sound and fury that developed from a cool Sean Drysdale bass line and some heavy metal guitar slinging from inimitable Ray Torres. It recalls the tonal landscape of 7 O’Clock News/Silent Night, a mid-sixties effort by Simon & Garfunkel - though it seems closer aligned to Revolution #9, a Beatles’ experimental montage engineered by John Lennon. In the final analysis Creed is unlike either of its famous cousins, in that it speaks to BC’s self-doubting musical humility and its courage to observe itself as a good set-up band that can get the crowd moist and ready for the next act. Cool Bus is a punked-up road trip song with a strangled lost-key vocal by Mont - and it’s just sloppy enough to make it real…Perfect! This is BC fulfilling the prophecy of the late/great B-52’s with just a touch of inspiration from the mods and rockers of the early-to-mid-sixties.
Friday is one of my favorites ‘cos it takes me back to the early days of rock n’ roll when I was listening to my mother’s Ronettes records. It hearkens back to a more innocent time that wasn’t innocent at all…it was just hidden - and every once in awhile when I heard Ronnie Spector moan ooh, oh, oh…I wanted to know more. Fridays’ updated girl group sound is sure to get people on the dance floor doin’ the bend it and shakin their groove thing. Shar Molina’s earthy singing takes the soda shop and varsity sweater to a more emotionally vulnerable hue and cry due to a lyrical theme of unrequited love. She sounds like a funkier Madonna circa Say a Little Prayer and has the pluck and pipes to make it real and break your heart.. Sugar Buzz combines a soulful Motown musical backdrop with red hot bubblegum leeeric that holds the lovin’ promise of Yummy Yummy. The buzz is more than just sexual release….it’s about love. And it’s irresistible.
The Telephone Song is a phenomenal 50’s style romp that recalls the theme of Billy J. Kramer’s modest hit, Little Children, that bemoans the presence of your best girl’s siblings ‘cos sometimes they’re in the way but if you play it smart and treat ‘em nice you just might win her heart and fulfill your wildest and sickest dreams. Every bubblegum song has a Sheila in it, right? But this one has a Danny too. There is a fine line between bubblegum and the West Side Story lovelorn juvenile delinquents. I love the verse - short and to the point- nothing else needs to be said:
“Danny let me talk to Sheila
Put your sister on the Line”
For Your Love is pure pop confection crafted by Graham Gouldman (of 10CC fame) back when he was just a wisp of a lad and it caught the ear of famed producer Giorgio Gomelsky who was working with the Yardbirds at the time. He took them kicking and screaming into the studio to record their first and most lackluster hit of their career. The Yardbirds hit version of the tune gave it legendary status as the reason Eric Clapton quit the band and created the musical impetus for him to form Cream. The rest is history…though Clapton would resurface years later with a version of I Shot the Sheriff so bereft of the energy and conviction of the original that it makes For Your Love sound like screamin’ EMO. The BC version gives it a new lease on life and a renewed sense of purpose. Shar and the boys take For Your Love from a place of shame to a rock n’ roll redemption. Molina’s soulful vocal anchors a sensual charm and gives it a warmed up groove that far surpasses the original.
She Makes it Easy is a rockin’ still-the-one love song that speaks to the everyday life of coffee and small conflicts that can rip at the seams of a long term relationship. You may get on each other’s nerves but you still hang on – there’s so many shared memories and deep affection and you still give it to each other. Licorice Whip begins with a pulsating bass riff, grinds up to breakneck speed-of-light rocker. This is raw and raucous bubblegum at its best like Alex Chilton doing a heavy metal take on Sugar Sugar - gives it a whole new meaning!
Prognosis is musically complex and has a minor chord vibe that is quite ominous. This is a difficult pill to swallow. The doctor lyric is somewhat of a cliché that serves to ease the raw pain and bitterness that’s underneath. The lyric may have been more authentic with a dose of misogyny and a whole lot of bad words.
Replan is a Ray Torres original. It’s a mid-tempo dance friendly arrangement belies the dark message in the song though Torres’ blistering guitar work underscores the cry of confusion and despair in the lyrics. The protagonist is in deep trouble, a downward spiral from which he feels no escape. He is immersed in misery and doesn’t know that the only way out of hell is acceptance. The chorus “Maybe I’ll pull up a chair and spin it through my replan” is a pre-contemplative stage that could prove hopeful or fatal depending on the level of denial - a heavy theme for BC and a signal of its deeper musical convictions.
Rust Belt Blues is a straight ahead up-tempo rocker with a marvelous bassline. The slowed-up 12 bar blues coda seems a fitting musical accompaniment to the metaphorical jab at the sad state of our community.
Anyway is a stone masterpiece that is both emotionally layered and lyrically complex. It’s an acoustic folk tune that tells a story about making peace with those things that you cannot change and finding meaning in suffering. Is it possible to let go? Shar’s mature vocal colors the lyrics in nuanced sepia tones reminiscent of Christine (Perfect) McVie prior to her soiree with Fleetwood Mac. This could be a college radio hit – that’s where the best music is heard.
On their first full elpee of tunes the Banana Convention reached deep and creates a body of music with emotional depth and maturity. It’s like 1910 Fruitgum Company in a 1969 concert at Mt. Holly promoting their final LP Hard Ride…heavy guitar, horn section, long jams…and then 1,2 3 Red Light . I loved every minute of it then and I love it now. Hats off to BC!
Peace,
Bo White
Andy Reed - The Great Compression EP
It was a helluva scamp, more dumb luck than coincidence and perhaps, just an unusual twist and turn of circumstances – still…it was a thrill of a lifetime. It started with Laura, this psychologist friend of mine, seems she’s a big Beatles fan, collected all the records, cds, videos and the odds and sods that accompany that type of passion. Her goal was to meet the Beatles, at least one Beatle before she died. It was a few years back when she told me her cousin, Noogie Wicker, is a musician and that his group Jackie-O-Sister Lovers was playing the Cavern Club in Liverpool. It was a benefit for something, can’t remember offhand, I suppose it doesn’t matter. But what does matter, at least for this review was that Paul McCartney turned up at the benefit and shared the stage with the Sister Lovers. They got along smashingly and agreed to collaborate again someday when they were back in the states. Well, as luck would have it, Sir Paul traveled back to Arizona in late November fresh from the debut of his latest classical offering, Ecce Cor Meum, at the Royal Albert Hall. Though the music raised a few eyebrows and seemed to register just above tepid on the response meter, Sir Paul was undaunted, even enthusiastic…and ready to take on the world. So Paul rang up Noogie who called Laura who told me and I contacted my buddy Andy Reed. This was it…finally - a chance to meet a Beatle! But to everyone’s disappointment Paul had to cancel our meeting, something about a court solicitor. So, Paul apologized and gave Noogie the exact location of a portal to the afterlife so we could interview a “Dead Beatle” - yep, John Lennon. George declined citing ill health and a preference for a disembodied state. Yoko Ono first discovered this portal back in ‘85 but kept it secret for all these years, only her closet confidantes, spiritual advisors, and investment bankers knew about it. According to Noogie, the astrological aspects had to be aligned with the algorithm of the earth’s rotation in order for the portal to open. Noogie calculated that perfect alignment would occur at 7pm on December 7th in the front yard of Andy Reed’s home. Andy and I were beside ourselves, my god, this is a dream come true to meet a dead Beatle...it had to rank just a notch above meeting dead Elvis! What a thrill!!! Finally the day arrived, I got to Andy’s around 6pm, Laura and her husband arrived a few minutes later and at 7pm. Noogie knocked Andy’s front door with John standing beside him. After the obligatory introductions – “Hallo, I’m John and I’m as dead as a doorknob - nudge, nudge, wink, wink” - an awkward silence filled the room. It was excruciating, I could hear myself swallowing as I attempted to say something clever. But nothing came out except a strangled wheeze and a whistle of hot air. I was paralyzed. Finally John spoke…to Andy,
“Heaaaad yau hauv eh neeuw recaaahden.”
Andy nodded, “Ahem, yes it’s called the great compression, it’s just 5 songs, would you like to listen to it?
Shor ‘enuuff, laddie buck, sooo wha doos grrreat cumpression mean”?
And that’s how it started…
"Hmm. wha’s the neame of the fuurst one, cum again…The Day The World Was Lost?...hmmm - like that harmooonika, sounds like Baaakcly James Harvooost… or a bit like George unn Ohnlee A Noothen Sung”. And then Lennon leads us in singing’ the chorus,
When I leave you, don’t forget my name
Don’t wear it out
Cos you’re the reason I got beat in this game
So don’t ever change
"luv them wuurds, reminds me ovv Yoko…
at that point Lennon looks a wistful, even sad, “We was jus’ wuurkin’ it all owt when it happened…damn her fir takin’ up with Elliot, I wuz barely cold und pushin’ up the daisies when Yoko stahhted shaggin’that bahhhstid …and he sez he’s a frriend ovv mine - and I donna cah what Yoko sez about May and me …it was hehr idea in the fuurst plez, it donna givv her the right to shag evvvryone like some tweedy coont affftah I’m gonn.”
What about your relationship with Paul?"
Hmmm, Macca....he ain't dunn noothing since Yuusterday. Now he's juust Anoother Day
Oh...I see - sounds kinda familiar
Well, it shoood ya twit, it's one of me song lyeerics. Doncha remummmbah How doo Ye sleep at nacht?...baaasturd, he's always hadd hees head uup hees boooshwah arse.
We all sat silently, stunned at Lennon’s brutal honesty and wondering why a spirit would be so attached to such earthly matters and be so angry. We didn’t know quite what to say so we listened to the next track…
June
At the first piano trill, Lennon perked up, “sooonds like ah Carol King riff…hmm, (he sings)“It’s too Laayt… luv her! And I dig yer vocal sounds like the Rup chards or the Beeech Bouys, he sings, “Let the Love shine”… I cahn feel Che sugah plooomb fahary oon tha wun. Yer gitar solo is smaaashing…full booodied is that a Fendah strut?
”Andy, tha next toon – Suuuft Taagit - sounds like a few old chums oov mine…Peter and Gordon – right outta World Without Love. Paul worked out tha woon oout. I luv the aloneness in yer wuurds”
”No, No, No…hmmm, that minar chorrd is quite the menacing lil buggah, innit? Yer lyeerics are jus what I’m going thruuu….canna get outta the paaast, and soma tha time I feel so sick and boooring like a spiv or some daft wanker. All them earthly questions have lingahhed evah since… "
"What’s that last one…Smile Looook and Listen? Ahhndeee…yer cool synthesize rriff sooonds like that chap Roondgren or the Cars…I keep up on all the latest ya know, up to 1980 anyway. The middle eight sounds like suuumthin I woood write….nice. I can hare the message…"left feelin’ so dirty but endin’ up so clean” - sooonds like me.
"Andy, we was the hip ones in the sixties. But it’s nahtt like that anymooore. I luv yer music, you can doo anything…the unknooown is what-it-is, donna be frightened by it all, thaats why people are scurrying about chasin dreams, illusions. Bollocks to 'em...the dream is over....it's yer turn”
With that Lennon walked out the front door and disappeared into the whiff of a cloud. We looked at each other silently but knowing…
Andy Reed is the toppermost of the poppermost
Give Peace a Chance
Bo White
1/8/07
A Man Called Destruction AKA The Tortured Genius of Alex Chilton
Hey baby in the 1980s
Baby Doc brought it up from Haiti
Can’t get it on
Or even get high
C’mon Baby, fuck me and die
And he speaks to our worst, on the down low fears with :
I worry about the future
Junky blood is gonna pollute you
Pretty soon we’re all gonna get it
It’s time to buy some stuff on credit
No Sex
But the unrealized genius of No Sex is only part of the problem. I’m really trying to understand the almost lost art of creating and performing original rock n’ roll music. 30 years ago Greg Shaw (BOMP Records) wrote that live original music was becoming cultish and that the mass appeal of rock music had declined, just as did with Big Band, Blues and Jazz.
For every time there is a season, and now rock ‘n roll sits on a shelf in Cleveland, like a dusty artifact in a museum to be gawked at wearily and half bored like middle school kids on a class trip not wanting to go and caring less about rock and roll music when they could free-rap like Robert Johnson riffin’ with the Devil at the crossroads. But it’s tight to mug with Aguilara’s tiny stage dress and wonder what it might be like with someone like her – sex is always part of it. But the exhibit conveys little of the energy and sexual tension of the music - it’s all too…perfect. Music was never intended to be perfect or to be put on the shelf. Doesn’t matter if it is blues, jazz or gospel, the medium is the message and the message is steamy, slicked back, all wet and swampy. Just ask Charles Fountain from the Blind Boys of Alabama. Back in the day when he was just a pup, in some little backwoods town in Mississippi or Alabama, a grandma would come to the revival and bring him back home to her 15 year-old granddaughter. You didn’t know exactly what to expect - until she made a move. And she always made a move. It was kept quiet yet it was known to all the gospel performers. One show after another – it was hard to call upon real emotion…every time, after all its just business -maybe a little comfort would do. But for grandma it was real, it was all about experiencing the truth – the Holy Ghost. Lawd have mercy, let God’s will be done!
Maybe that’s why I dig Alex Chilton…he sifts through the bullshit and tells it like it is – while speaking in tongues. His gospel is at once exhilarating and infuriating. I don’t really understand his point of view yet I seem to “get it” intuitively. Which brings us to the best record I’ve heard in 2007: Alex Chilton – Live in London. Only problem is it was recorded in 1980 and it was thought to be so criminally bad that it wasn’t released until 1982. I absolutely love it. And I can’t stop playing it. If I go a day without it, I become anxious and shaky and I lose control of all bodily functions. Call me crazy for my cultish devotion to Chilton’s Dadaism. Chilton no doubt is a “doomed artist on a collision course to hell” why else would he record such a mess as Live in London and then decide to release it. In turn it’s both invigorating (the glorious Rock Hard) and irritating (the drizzle and sludge of No More the Moon Shines on Lorena). His early success is covered by a punked-up and sloppy version of The Letter – perfect. This may be the spit-in-the-face to the suits that controlled every aspect of the Box Tops career. Chilton was only 16 at the time. In a later interview, he referred to the experience as “scummy”. The disc opens with a dusky slowed down version of the decadent punk classic Bangkok –
Two slanty-eyed men lying in bed
one got his mauser, the other said
Bangkok
Making love the Japanese way
I learned aggressively in Hong Kong
Bangkok
In rapid succession the Chilton gospel comes alive with energetic versions of Big Star’s “In the Street” followed by solo gems such as the astonishing,sonic perfection of “Hey Little Child”, the testosterone fueled, tongue in cheek “Rock Hard” and the hilarious My Rival. Chilton’s guitar work is supremely sloppy and iconoclastic. This cat just flat out plays his ass off. He’s a masterful guitarist that eschews technique for sound and feel. Nighttime (from Big Star3) is a Lennon-esque minimalist masterpiece about pain and longing. Chilton digs down into his early Memphis roots and dusts off a coupla gems in masterful fashion -Train Kept a Rollin’ is better than the Yardbirds version and has a heavy rockabilly sound that rivals the Johnny Burnette’s original and Alligator Man takes us way back to an eccentric Cajun folklore. Big Star’s pop masterpiece September Gurls gets an undeserved hurried and somewhat disappointing treatment. And though the Panther Burns’ juiced and ready “Stranded on a Dateless Night” is a pop rock gem the disc closes with the out of place yet almost charming Carter Family oldie “No More the Moon Shines on Lorena”. What was Alex thinking…did he purposely set out to piss off his well-bred British fans – or was he giving them an education? What more can we expect of a man called Destruction?
Peace,
Bo White
Epilogue: Alex Chilton continued to evolve as an artist after moving to New Orleans in the eighties. He dropped out of the music business for six months after the poor reception of his Live in London CD, working as a dishwasher and a tree trimmer. In due time he was back performing and recording obscure yet phenomenal musical gems in a series of EPs that included Feudalist Tarts, No Sex and Black List. His association with New Orleans’ led him to a more restrained cool-jazz approach to his craft and his incredible guitar technique continued to expand and evolve. New York punk mavens, The Replacements, wrote and recorded a song in his honor entitled, Alex Chilton, of all things - go figure. Chilton released Live in Anvers in 2004. Reviews suggest it is a typical Chilton show, solid and professional with good singin' and good playin'. It should also be noted that Chilton was still living in New Orleans during the Katrina debacle and experienced some harrowing moments before he was rescued and brought to safety. Alex Chilton is a survivor.
If you want to learn more about Alex Chilton and the golden era of Memphis music and culture, pick up Robert Gordon's remarkable no-holds-barred chronicle It Came From Memphis.
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