When I tried to figure out the many reasons why I really enjoyed Bindley Hardware Co’s first release, Ever Satisfactory, it wasn’t the fact the band were named after the lead singer forebears’ retail outlet, but the irreverent and entertaining lyrics. It also helped to have a great Country Rock sound with some fine tunes.
Jon Bindley has an independent mind. After falling out of love with Nashville he returned to his hometown, Pittsburgh, where he (unforgivably) coined the genre ‘Rust Belt Americana’. His disenchantment with Music City had him reporting, “it felt a little disingenuous. You know everyone’s wearing a Stetson hat and cool tattoos and loves Townes Van Zandt”. His back story suggests that he is a serious student of song writing and this album displays that it was time well spent.
With a superb selection of musicians Bindley has created an important 32 minutes. “Down The Run” warns of avoiding violence in Greenfield, a suburb of Pittsburgh, where a teenager might find himself on the wrong end of a knuckle sandwich. A steady rock groove showcases the sound of guitar – acoustic and electric, bass, keys and drummer.
“Alright, Already!” has a thumping beat. Bindley sings of rolling with the punches and playing it by ear as to what life throws up. Delightfully the band steps up: particularly Christopher Putt on guitar and Waylon Richmond on violin. Putt is a real asset; with his variety of sounds he lends the album a tremendous quality and breadth.
“Good Ones” places us in Country music’s preferred venue for rumination: the bar. Here our hero reflects on the trials of being left with a selection of women who have been picked over. Presumably in a state of inebriation he tells his lucky winner the words she’s been longing to hear “you’re not the girl of my dreams!” The traditional melody had me imagining Keith with a cigarette in the side of his mouth leading the Stones through “Faraway Eyes”.
“Queen Of The Upper Middle Class” is an acerbic tour de force. “She’s a product of the suburbs, real luxury type of gal” may be tongue in cheek but could be a little close to the truth. A hard-bitten spoilt woman falls under Bindley’s critical gaze as he surmises that her entitled and pampered lifestyle makes her repellent. Fiddle and banjo lead and we get a gentle bluegrass melody with harmonies, which border on a hoe-down that gives this a real pace to match the story.
I never thought I would write that the duet is the standout track but Bindley and Angela Mignanelli have proven me wrong on “Easy Game”! Bindley and home town girl, Mignanelli, swap their disagreeable idiosyncrasies on their way to arrangements over a future liaison – “I’m easy game but I can be tamed”. Their chemistry is palpable and the words delicious, especially in the flirtatious spoken exchange. Hot!
Well, what an unexpected delight. I hope the record gets some traction and more people get to hear it. A real find.
I was reading a book I bought in Canada called The Chitlin’ Circuit And The Road To Rock ‘N’ Roll by Preston Lauterbach. For those who know little about the circuit then it was a selection of venues in the American South. The circuit was initially popular for large bands that played to dance goers in small and often lethal venues. The story is not only about the locations, African American culture and music but also the promoters. Predictably the promoters were less than lovely: prostitution, illegal gambling and money laundering came in tow. The venues were often dangerous. They had no fire safety and there is a horrific story about the loss of 244 lives in Natchez, Mississippi when one such venue caught fire. I cycled past the plaque in 2015 on my way to New Orleans. In this instance the event organisers had sought to keep out gate crashers by nailing the windows and doors shut.
Chitterlings were pig’s intestines and associated with an African American diet. The history says that their taste for such offal arose from what was left after their white employers took the choice cuts. So the venues were for African Americans and it was here that some of the most remarkable and legendary acts started their careers. When recorded music became popular the folk wanted to hear them play live. This co-incided with rising costs of putting large acts on the road. So the venues turned to recording artists who often performed alone but maybe backed by a pick up band. This worked perfectly with Blues and early Rock n’ Roll.
So anyway as I’m reading this book about this phenomena I came across Champion Jack Dupree as a ‘bouncer’ at the Naptown Nitery in Indianapolis in the 1940’s. He was already a barrelhouse pianist in demand after having playing live for many years and having recorded several sides for Okeh Records. The club in question was owned by Denver Ferguson the pre-eminent promoter on the Chitlin’ Circuit.
At this point I remembered my father’s record collection.
My father loved jazz. He played a four string rhythm acoustic guitar in the Royal Air Force (as well as repairing Halifax bombers) and collected records (which were passed to me). These were mainly Dixieland and his heroes were Louis Armstrong, Bix Beiderbecke, Kid Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton, Frankie Trumbauer, Wing Manone, Muggsy Spanier and other bands of the late 1920’s and 1930’s. When he passed I looked through my vinyl inheritance and there was this album, it seemed very out of place. It was like someone discovering a Kanye West record in my collection. (In case you’re interested then no I haven’t).
He liked the Blues if it was played on a cornet and had a funeral paced trombone pouring emotion behind. Granted, he had the obligatory Bessie Smith records but why Champion Jack Dupree? I’d love to have asked him.
In some idle emails with Steve Jessney of Nothin’ But The Blues radio fame on Vixen 101 William Thomas ‘Champion Jack’ Dupree came up and Steve forwarded some of his recording for me to absorb. This I did and I then reached for my Dad’s vinyl. Dupree is described as a barrelhouse piano-player and Blues singer. There is beauty and emotion in his soulful voice that is complemented by his rolling piano that fills the gaps or keeps the rhythm. In fact the sound is complete and the need for other instruments is often not necessary. This is early 20th Century Blues in the late 20th Century, which could only be played by a man of his heritage and background.
If I had to write about a fictional Blues musician I could never have dreamt up Champion Jack. My attempt would include some prodigious talent, a lot of racial prejudice, New Orleans as a birthplace, possible being orphaned and then some addictions before legendary status and reverence.
I would not included a father from the Belgian Congo and a half African American and Cherokee mother who were killed in their house by a fire started by the Klu Klux Klan. Credibility would be stretched by a career that involved 107 boxing bouts and the winning of the amateur title of ‘Golden Gloves (affording our hero the prefix of ‘Champion’). Now venturing into nonsense the pugilist would make ends meet by being a cook (mainly of New Orleans cuisine, of course). These were skills he’d use in the US Navy during the Second World War where he’d end up in a Japanese POW camp after his ship went down.
Subsequently he’d decide after a music career in the deeply prejudiced Deep South to move to Europe. He’d calculate that he was welcome and the competition for well paid gigs was less. Here he’d live in England, Denmark, Switzerland and Germany before dying in the early 1990’s. Along the way he’d be cited by white Blues megastars as an influence and also play with them.
Oh, yes and I wouldn’t have thrown in the three wives or the eleven kids.
Dupree spent his brief marriage to Shirley, a white waitress he met at a London club, in Ovenden. This is about 45 miles from my house in West Yorkshire. Ovenden’s entry in Wikipedia tells you that it boasts a population of just over 12,000. Its main claim to fame is being a former home of Dupree!
In fact the town is close to Halifax, a much larger town. Halifax is typical of many towns that have declined and or reinvented themselves after Britain’s industrial decline. The Calder Valley on which it sits historically was a centre of wool, carpet, confectionary and machine tool production. Today it’s best known for a bank that includes its name in its title.
Not all the locations that I have visited in the USA match the romance of the names. Without seeking to tarnish them then Muscle Shoals, Clarksdale, New Orleans, Highway 61 and the rest are important but not easy on the eye. I have to say that Ovenden wouldn’t have been in my improbable fictional Blues musician’s life. He must have loved her!
As regards the album then in 1982 Dupree was living in Hanover; this is his third album with guitarist Kenn Lending. Lending is Danish and he recorded and played with Dupree for the remainder of his life accumulating around 12 albums and over 1,000 concerts. The age difference was 45 years; it is unimaginable what Lending learned. Dupree was probably glad to have a younger and fitter companion for all the touring that they did to make a living!
The album still sounds contemporary with several songs that touch the edges of rock n’ roll with their boogie woogie rhythms. Lending plays a key roll often behind the piano in the mix but usually getting a turn at the melody as the young Dane picks on his Gibson delicately around the more robust stride piano of Dupree. Ten tracks are simply played and produced but it is a full sound.
When not singing he can regale us with a chat about Ray Charles’ in “Baby Please Don’t Go” or the evils of LSD in “You Better Kick The Habit”. “Rockin’ The Boogie’ is contemporary as it sounds and the telepathic electric guitar relationship comes to the fore. All bar one are self compositions. Roosevelt Sykes’ “I Hate To Be Alone” is the exception. Unusually this involves some unison vocals with Lending.
Lyrically throughout we get the full nine yards – women problems, humour, drugs, loneliness and a little bit of Christianity on the spiritual “Good Lord Born On Christmas.
Always in command and never straining you know he’s completely in control and probably only unleashing a small amount of this talent. The piano playing on “You Better Kick The Habit’ gives glimpses of the sophisticated jazzy patterns he could weave.
In between the vocal interjections redolent of old Bluesmen comes the humour. On the title track “I Had A Dream” he tells us about his mother in law. “She was crazy. I knew she was crazy… but not about me!”
I shall be rummaging through some jazz vinyl racks to see if I can lay my hands on more Dupree/Lending gems. If there is anything to remember from this ramble then don’t dispose of your Dad’s records as I came back to this 28 years after he’d gone.
You could forgive Lauren Stovall for saying how nice it was to be in the ‘village’ of Selby. She was a little wide of the mark: it has a population of over 15,000 (plus a McDonalds for heaven’s sake!) There again in the USA what we’d describe as a village they call a city.
The Railsplitters were approaching the last week of their UK tour after having been on the road since early January. They started in Australia and this was their third visit to our shores. They describe themselves as Bluegrass. However, a quote I stole, places them as more ‘Crosby, Stills & Grass’. I think in part that works fine.
As a local resident then how the delightful Selby Town Hall got a Colorado string acoustic quintet to play is still something of a surprise to me. Being sold out must be a joy for any visitors to discover. Judging by the audience’s lack of familiarity with any of the catalogue then I have to disclose that I expect most concert goers had bought tickets for a season of music, which included Boulder’s finest.
The band was slow to warm up, it wasn’t until their third song that they hit their stride and we got to hear Stovall’s fabulous and pure voice on “Lessons I’ve Learned” from their excellent third album, Jump In. The small, elderly and very wooden clad venue necessitated a minimum of amplification and the sound was very close to the albums. For the most part you could hear a pin drop as the 150 or so sat enrapt.
The accomplishment of the musicians and the seemingly democratic approach to how the band works was evident. The bass of Jean-Luc Davis held it together whilst the mandolin (Pete Sharpe), banjo (Dusty Rider) and violin (Joe D’Esposito) took various leads. Three of the 18 songs were instrumentals. The band covered all their three albums and threw in a couple of covers. On the latter Stovall asked “How many Dillard fans are in tonight?” As the tumbleweed rolled across the stage she gulped, recovered and said “oh well, there’s 5 on the stage!”
It was her voice and, on occasion, three part harmonies with Rider and Sharpe that enthralled. My particular highlight was “Everyone She Meets”. However, “Planted On The Ground”, “You” and “Where You Are” were memorable. The song structures are very melodic with the strings picking up the tune whilst Stovall’s guitar strummed rhythm. The interplay between banjo and mandolin was sensational and the amplified mandolin often mimicked an electric lead guitar.
Humour and bonhomie abounded on stage. It was pointed out that Jean-Luc had no French or Canadian connection and so why was he called this? The band volunteered ‘false’ facts between songs. The person who could identify which one it was could claim a free CD. I’m not sure which one it was but Joe D’Esposito claiming to be a Swansea City fan seemed as improbable as Pete Sharpe having been struck by lightning.
So after a couple of joyous sets they did the obligatory North American touring band put down of Donald Trump and launched into the traditional Bluegrass “Fly Around My Pretty Miss”. After this encore they were gone into the cold dark night and some other small town in the UK awaited.
(I have to be fair! Stovall, later in the second set, did work out that as they were playing at Selby Town Hall she’d been wrong about the ‘village’ and was gracious to concede and volunteer ‘Hey, I’m American!’ The audience loved her for that).
Colter Wall received a warm Yorkshire welcome as he strolled onto the stage at The Wardrobe in the centre of Leeds. If Colter wasn’t surprised, then I was, that well over 300 people turned up at this intimate venue to see this young Canadian strut his stuff. He’s currently doing a few UK gigs and has already been in Continental Europe.
With an amplified acoustic guitar Wall worked his way through his 2017 eponymous album and much of his 2015 Imaginary Appalachia EP. The crowd were familiar with his work and sang along in places. The bearded troubadour briefly introduced songs from beneath his Stetson and let his wry and panoramic lyrics speak for themselves as his distinctive slow paced baritone phrasing often engrossed. He sings of Canadian prairies, motorcycles, Highway 61, railroads and projects that he glimpses life, in North America, as a drifter.
The seventeen song set included a few covers (‘Wabash Cannonball’ and ‘Railroad Bill’). I really appreciated this nod to the past as it clearly illustrates that he’s steeped in American Roots music. All these songs fitted seamlessly into his catalogue. There were a few new songs and amongst the selection was ‘John Beyers’ – an excellent song that recounts friends firing bullets into their respective ’69 Chevrolet Camaro’s! However, it was the songs from the last release that brought the biggest reaction. ‘Kate McCannon’ went down a storm. I expect many had viewed the surprising YouTube low budget video, shot under grey skies. It depicts lives going nowhere, the expectations and necessary graft to create a life together and the treachery that eventually results in her fatal demise.
In fact it was on this song that the gift of Dave Cobb surfaced tonight. The album created the same intimacy that Rick Rubin captured with Johnny Cash on his America Recordings. On the record, in a classically stripped down setting, the voice commands with every inflexion, pause and deliberation. The timbre, depth and unique sound of Wall’s voice brought out the audience tonight. However, sometimes with the usual venue amplification and the wretched, unforgivable, babble from the bar crowd then some of that intimacy and impact was lost.
‘Codeine Dreams’, ‘Me and Big Dave’, ‘Motorcycle’ and the hilarious ‘Thirteen Silver Dollars’ were especially memorable. He opened the set with the latter and explained that this was a “true story about falling asleep in a snow bank” – we can all sympathise with such a predicament as who hasn’t at one time or another had this mishap!
I came away wondering if Wall will be an artist enjoying the same following on the next album? Cobb’s collaboration is the difference between interesting music and the propulsion to fame. He has the song writing talent and voice. I hope he gets the setting to produce more compelling releases. For all this then the crowd left happy and I for one hope that other visiting young and upcoming Americana entertainers can get them out in such numbers regularly.
(It was a pleasure to attend the concert with Mark Sutcliffe, who it’s be fair to say will recognise some of his observations in the above! Supporting Colter Wall was Ian Noe, a Kentucky folk singer).
LIONHEART is North Carolina’s H.C. McEntire’s debut release of nine self penned compositions. The title sums up her feeling about the courage to strike out and release music under her own name. This album fits delightfully into a slot of intimate, uplifting, melodic and lyrically interesting Country Americana with a possible drift into Folk.
North Carolina’s Heather McEntire has spent her career progressing from Post Punk to this dulcet and crafted genre. Her recent day job has been a combination of playing with Mount Moriah and more recently being a member of Angel Olsen’s touring band. She says that much of the album was composed whilst on the road with Olsen. The songs didn’t fit Mount Moriah hence the solo debut.
Affairs start with “A Lamb, A Dove” a plaintiff unadorned vocal that shows the beauty of McEntire’s voice against some occasional piano chords before building to involve harmonies with Tift Merritt and the nagging siren qualities of pedal steel. The song alludes to McEntire’s journey of coming out in the South with acceptance anxieties from her family and the tense background of the legal battles that the Gay community face to get equality in the Southern States. Lyrics include – “I have found heaven, In a woman’s touch, Come to me now, I’ll make you blush”. And connection with her spiritual side – “It’s a wild world, That will make you believe, In a kingdom, Full of mercy and faith, It’s a fine line, And I will walk it with grace, Come like a dove, I’ll show you love.”
However whilst this may be an important statement from McEntire I wouldn’t want to leave an impression that the album is a long heartfelt ‘message’. The tracks here stand alone and they are mellifluous, constructed at the right pace, have beautiful instrumentation and are delivered with lovely voices.
Such a track is “One Great Thunder” with heavenly voices and strings. It is a short ethereal piece that transported me to Delibes’ “Flower Duet” from his Opera Lakmé. It is simply delicious and a demonstration of her considerable talent to create such a short piece of heaven.
“Baby’s Got the Blues” is a pulsing but gentle acoustic rocker with Hammond behind the clear and assertive vocals with support from Ryan Gustafson. Some of the words hook you with mentions of “dogwood, surrogates, mama buried the revolver” etc. but what it all means is beyond me and starts to come across as a touch jumbled.
“Wild Dogs” is back to a slower pace where her vocal is backed by Angel Olsen’s different but exquisite harmony back in the mix. Meanwhile a cello and strings provide the accompaniment – “When we were wild dogs, How our teeth were stained with blood, From the fire, from the hunt, When I held for you that lust. ”
Despite the vicious lyric it is a delicate and captivating song! Maybe this is one of the intriguing and attractive elements of the album – that mix of delicate melodies with some disordered yet memorable imagery in the words.
This is one of those Americana albums that will be noted for its immense beauty and intensity. I expect to return to it regularly during the year.
Picture, if you will, a wide-open range with a couple of hundred steers shuffling at a hurried pace creating a dusty haze in the heat. The camera pulls back to find our lonesome cowboy leading his horse at a brisk pace singing “No One To Blame”. This is Dusty Rust, long time resident of Kansas City, Missouri, delivering a Country & Western tune with his attractive baritone. We get pedal steel, fiddle and reverb guitar as he channels his inner Frankie Laine.
Dusty Rust has been plying his trade for some years (sadly, not on horse back) and this is his third release. A quick search on YouTube finds him documenting a tour through Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, Washington and Missouri playing minor venues. He’s typical of many touring artists waiting for that elusive propulsion into The Big Time.
“I Was Wrong” brings to mind 1960s commercial Country, à la Glen Campbell, as a banjo picks out the melody whilst Rust’s winning and expressive vocal tells you of his heartache. This is on top of a nonchalant rhythm, all held together by harmonica. “Ride” continues in the same upbeat vein but pedal steel picks up the melody whilst the guitar chimes; I can imagine Rust singing, eyes closed and his head tossed back, up on the stage of these small bars whilst couples take the floor in front of him.
He has an ear for a melody. With crafted, structured and layered arrangements we work our way through 38 minutes of music that I’d describe as contemporary traditional Country. There’s plenty of Honky Tonk and Outlaw to be behold but there is that measured tunesmith sensibility. Making this record exceptional is Rust’s production. Subtle layers involving guitars, pedal steel, fiddle, banjo and piano, often way back in the mix, create a sound that places it in this millennium despite it’s 20th century origins.
Arizona includes the ambiguous description of his transport as a ‘slightly stolen van’! The stellar arrangement creates that ‘60s sunshine pop feel whilst exiting with present-day sounds that would impress Adam Granduciel.
“Hell On Fire”, my album highlight, picks up the recurrent theme of girl trouble, albeit this femme is more than tricky after shooting the farm’s banker – “Hey San Diego, how far are you? I’m shot in San Francisco and there’s nothing I can do, The lady I love is hell on fire and the world’s about to burn, The next train I’ll get to leaving, she’s no longer my concern, I’m out on my way”. Like a novel this tale unfolds whilst electric guitars howl behind the acoustic and drum shuffle creating that eerie and haunting atmosphere that this surprising story demands.
With only nine tracks we’re treated to all killer and no filler. With the supposed resurgence of traditional Country making a commercial comeback (albeit it helps to have an obligatory Willie Nelson duet and be supported by Jack White) then Dusty Rust may just catch the tide. Music as good as this deserves a much wider listen. Indulge me.
It’s been six years since Grayson Capp’s last solo album but Scarlett Roses is well worth the wait. This sixth release is a compelling combination of interesting words, great tunes, arrangements and production values that elevate this to one of the best late 2017 releases.
Capps appears to have now settled in Mobile Bay with his family after spells in New Orleans and Nashville. On my cycling travels then I have a working knowledge of many parts of the USA. In fact I well remember the ferry ride from Dauphin Island across the neck of Mobile Bay in Alabama. On the other side of this brief ferry ride was a continuing route along the Gulf Coast to Florida. It transpires that I was only 30 miles away from Fairhope, Capps’ new domicile. A really beautiful place to live.
The album reflects on life and love. In fact the lyrics are a highlight – we trip from lightweight love ditties such as “Hold Me Darlin’” to the dreamy musings on, the title track, “Scarlett Roses”.
On this Capps explains “That song came to me in that whole whirlpool of dreams, mixing emotions about old love and daughters and sons and ageing parents, it’s an interesting thing that happens when you let yourself enter that relaxed, hypnotic trance state. You start singing and all these lyrics just start coming from all these different places.”
“I watched you sail out on the ocean’
For a land to find your dreams’
You held out scarlet colored roses’
And you threw them in the ocean’
And they floated right on back to me.”
The album, if it has to be placed in a genre, is very much Country Rock. The pop sensibilities blend nicely with Americana (and its rougher-hewn edges). The ‘Rock’ comes from the long time collaborator, Corky Hughes, who wields a mighty axe. His career has included Black Oak Arkansas and he can either deftly fill in or ignite with a blistering solo.
Such an opportunity presents itself on “Taos” where excoriating distortion with a brooding thumping backing track allows Capps to howl about a 1,500 mile drive across Louisiana, Texas to New Mexico. Eventually the song slowly grinds to a close with feedback. The speakers bubble and gurgle worthy of Neil Young. I can well imagine playing this frightening loud and beating the steering wheel as the miles slip beneath the wheels. Enormous.
“Bag Of Weed” is a James McMurtry type trip around the community with characters he comes across explained and sympathised with as they struggle. This cinematic song is pure Country in its melody and delivery. Capps has explained, when playing this live, that it serves as some form of antidote to the typical Nashville lyrics that have little resonance for him at least.
The album has shade and light in the sound. Production was shared between Hughes, Capps and Trina Shoemaker, his accomplished wife. Shoemaker has worked with Sheryl Crow, Brandi Carlile, Rodney Crowell and the Dixie Chicks.
“Moving On” showcases Capps attractive voice – it holds a melody beautifully and demonstrates its character with a slight huskiness. The song is a Country tune drenched in harmonies and harmonica with ‘Dicky Betts’ guitar signatures, a rolling gait rhythm supported by an acoustic foundation.
Capps in all his interviews seems to talk about finding peace. Clearly the album came together over a period of time; it gives an insight into his mindset as he clocks up a half century. On “New Again” he throws in some thoughts on growing old:
“I’m getting old, my friends have died
I never got to say goodbye,
The dead they don’t miss you when they’re gone
Me too I’ll up and die,
But for now I’m still alive”
Despite his reflections on mortality then I expect there’s life in him yet. If you’re new to this talent then I urge you to catch up.
Newcastle on a New Year’s Eve is cold and dank with temperatures hovering at around 5°C. However the hardy natives brought in the New Year with a septuagenarian sensation from America’s Deep South, Candi Staton, at the Sage Theatre in Gateshead (a bridge walk from Newcastle). She ran through her catalogue of Southern Soul and classic 1970’s disco. The audience, several possibly only a couple of decades behind Candi, were resplendent in their party outfits and danced in the aisles and lapped up this night of glitter ball action. The revellers had come down from Scotland and further south in England: such was the draw.
Twelve songs over 80 minutes showcased her long recording career from “I’d Rather Be An Old Man’s Sweetheart”, released in 1969, through to 2014’s knock out “I Ain’t Easy To Love” from the Life Happens album. Both songs she explained had come from her collaboration with Muscle Shoals, legend, Rick Hall. (I, for one, genuflected at this point. For diligent readers then you’ll recollect that I rode a bike from Toronto to Muscle Shoals, Alabama to stand in the immortal Fame Studios). Her career has had gaps and it is a wonderful that she is now back regularly releasing albums and appearing on stage, notably in Europe. A six-piece band included her son, Marcus Williams, on drums, and former Style Council founder, Mick Talbot, on keyboards knew their stuff and immediately hit a funky groove. There was no loitering here! The crowd were soon in motion.
Much of her earlier chart success came with disco covers and we were treated to “Stand By Your Man”, “In The Ghetto” and “Suspicious Minds”. Most of the audience could sing along even if they knew the songs as originals by Tammy and The King. With the audience now well into their stride throwing shapes she lit the afterburners and the opening chords of “Young Hearts, Run Free” brought the expected loud cheers and a surge of energy. “You’ve Got The Love” kept the fans up and moving before an encore of “Hallelujah Anyway”. Then she waved goodbye and was gone.
Aside from the music Candi recounted stories of the Chitlin’ Circuit (a circuit of live music venues in the South of the USA notorious for being less than salubrious) and ensuring payment by the brandishing of a small pistol. However, for all the bravado, this is a God fearing woman. She told us she was blessed to sail into 2018 after the losses of Billy Paul and Percy Sledge in recent years. In fact her explanation for her continuing to perform was that “God has a purpose for me… and my work ain’t done yet”. When she said this then I wondered where I stood on Divine Intervention and a Mark Cohn line from “Walking In Memphis” came to mind – “She said, ‘Tell me are you a Christian, child?’ And I said, ‘Ma’am, I am tonight!’”
I think we can all agree we were blessed. A completely wonderful evening.
Despite seeing The Average White Band live then it wasn’t until sometime later that I really got into this majestic Scottish Soul outfit and bought their records. I’d seen them supporting Wishbone Ash; sadly like most support bands I’ve ever seen then I just wished them away so that my reason for being at the gig could start.
The ‘White’ album by AWB has folklore attached to it and is revered in many circles as one of the very best Soul albums ever released. This improbable collection of Scotsmen found themselves in the USA after recording this, their second, album which their then record label, MCA, subsequently had no interest in releasing. By this stage the band had played together for some time and their ‘sound’, song writing and machine precision tightness had been developed to such a degree that Los Angeles rather than Dundee came to mind.
After the blow of rejection then as luck would have it they met Jerry Wexler (of Atlantic Records and the mentor of Aretha Franklin) at a party. They had their tapes with them. He knew gold when he heard it and the band were despatched to Florida to record the album, again, with legendary Soul producer, Arif Mardin.
This 40+ minutes of Soul nirvana caught the USA by surprise after it’s release by the very ‘whiteness’ of the band. Black radio stations happily (ignorant of its Caucasian origins) played the singles. Inevitably black audiences streamed into venues to witness the music first hand. Considerable amazement followed as six badly dressed and very hairy pale Scots strode onto the stage. The disappointment soon passed as the act caught fire.
The album also caught fire and made it’s way to the top of the US Billboard 200 and spawned the funky single “Pick Up The Pieces” with its repetitive signature riff and chorus. This ascended all the way to the top of the US charts (it had initially failed to chart in the UK) and possibly more remarkable was that the song was an instrumental.
Classic Soul Funk groups had that telepathy amongst them. These musicians produced such a tightly produced sound – it propelled your hips and feet as if you were being physically prodded. So it was with Alan Gorrie’s thumping bass, the technically sophisticated yet hypnotic drumming of Robbie McIntosh, the silky, catchy and driving rhythm guitar of Onnie McIntyre interplays with Hamish Stuart’s lead guitar. Add the saxophones of Roger Ball and ‘Molly’ Duncan and you’re transported to Soul heaven.
Nine of the 10 tracks are originals. Gorrie and Stuart share the vocals. Their plaintive tenor falsettos are heart felt and pleading throughout. When they share a vocal then the fit and harmonies are as tight as the rhythm section.
Not all the songs are turbo charged. When they take it down with “Just Wanna Love You Tonight” strings are introduced. We hear of an assignation before lovers are parted with a long tour lying ahead. The vocals are expressive and mellifluous.
After the romantic interlude they find another gear seamlessly and speed is regained with “Keepin’ It To Myself”. A sax introduction makes way for Gorrie’s vocal. More heartbreak unfolds as he concludes that he’s not sharing his love after yet more disappointment.
Aside from the Number 1 single then most memorable is the cover of the Isley Brothers’ “Work To Do”. I always liked the lyrics that explain to a long-suffering wife why he’s not home.
There are some amazing British exports, like Rolls Royce. Just like the car then AWB were amongst our most refined, high quality, beautifully crafted and unique gifts to the world.
It was strange to be asked for my Top 10 albums of the year by the folk I write for. I’ve spent a lifetime poring over various lists every Christmas and now I had to submit mine! What is clear then you are conflicted as you compile the list: do you pick the most worthy, adventurous and surprising releases or something, a little more honest, that you’re likely to play again?
For me I decided to pick two lists. One is the stuff I enjoyed from 2017 releases. I think I can explain why I liked them so much and you may find it somewhere as a ‘Record Of The Week’ on the blog. The other list is a list of albums that I have bought and become absorbed with in 2017. Although you’ll note they are old; most are vinyl which were a complete pleasure to track down. Revisiting old albums and or artists is a joy – like meeting up with old friends.
Eternal gratitude to Calvin Powers, The Mighty Jessney (Steve) and Duncan Warwick who gave me so much music that it was nearly overwhelming. With what I bought and what I received then I listened to circa 210 new albums (to me) this year. That’s in addition to my usual listening to older stuff. I seldom passed a charity shop or HMV in York without buying something. In addition I bought albums this year in Leeds, London, Vancouver, Calgary, Stuttgart, Helsinki, Nuremberg and I looked in every other holiday destination I visited!
Streaming doesn’t work for me with poor internet in Acaster Malbis and I have to admit to being a ‘collector’.
2017 Releases
John Moreland Big Bad Luv
Tyler Childers Purgatory
Amanda Anne Platt & The Honeycutters
Courtney Marie Andrews Honest life
The War On Drugs A Deeper Understanding
Lukas Nelson & The Promise Of The Real
Miranda Lambert The Weight Of These Wings
Lee Ann Womack The Lonely, The Lonesome & The Gone
Hurricane Ruth Ain’t Ready For The Grave
Zephaniah OHora With The 18 Wheelers This Highway
Bought & Enjoyed In 2017
The Rolling Stones Exile on Main Street (1972)
Millie Jackson Just A Lil’ Bit Country (1981)
Humble Pie Smokin’ (1972)
10cc The Original Soundtrack (1975)
Candi Staton Music Speaks Louder Than Words (1977)
Vinegar Joe Rock ’n Roll Gypsies (1972)
Cat Stevens Tea For The Tillerman (1970)
Marcia Ball Live! Down The Road (2005)
The Average White Band Put It Where You Want It (1975)
Carlos Santana & John McLaughlin Love, Devotion & Surrender (1973)
As I’ve got steadily more into the Blues and Americana it became self evident that there is a lot to discover in The Rolling Stones’ late 1960’s and early 1970’s catalogue. My conversion started with Sticky Fingers. The 2016 Blue & Lonesome was confirmation that they were the real thing and their legend is built on some wonderful foundations. Exile, for me, was an overlong and messy confection. A double album with a couple of decent tunes on it?
My ‘Road to Damascus’ moment came when I was introduced (thanks Sooty) to a 2016 re-mastered vinyl version. The album was cut using specialist half speed mastering. This results in a superior high frequency response. So gone is all that mushy sound and now you can pick out the vocals and instruments. It was a revelation!
The album has a story beside the music. In 1972 the Stones became expatriates as they escaped British tax rates (top rate of 83%!), drug busts and contract battles. Keith Richards became a resident at Chateau Nellcôte near Villefranche-sur-Mer (Nice) in the South of France. It was here that the album was initially recorded. The stories abound about recording between 8pm and 3am most days and along the way Richards and half the musicians were high on heroin and booze whilst Jagger, Wyman and Watts made sporadic appearances to complete the record. Richards’ drug problems were so horrific that he was eventually banned from France, in 1973, for two years.
For all this then the Stones were in their pomp and magic came to pass. The album has that dirty bluesy rock n’ roll feel throughout and the irreverence and looseness suggests that they were beyond caring about the sensibilities of those more supposedly respectable.
The first of 18 tracks is “Rocks Off” a full throttle rocker with the horns and Nicky Hopkins’ piano driving it along. Maybe the listener starts to get a feel for the party that’s going on behind this:
“Feel so hypnotized, can’t describe the scene. Feel so mesmerized all that inside me. The sunshine bores the daylights out of me. Chasing shadows moonlight mystery. Headed for the overload”
We’re on our way.
Mick Taylor was holding down the present day Ronnie Wood position. Possibly the most accomplished guitarist the Stones ever had. Less pleasing to Jagger, because of his disruptive drug fuelled behaviour, was Bobby Keys. However, immediately you can hear his saxophone giving the whole album a Soul feel. “Shake Your Hips” isn’t a Stones composition but a cover of Slim Harpo’s who wrote it in 1965. It’s hypnotic percussive rhythm would have an audience up immediately. However, they won’t be sitting down anytime soon as we move onto “Casino Boogie” (with Taylor’s beautiful outro solo) and then finish side one with “Tumbling Dice”.
Phew. Epic
Side Two starts with “Sweet Virginia”. A great Country Blues song led off by Jagger on harp. Following we have three throttled back ballads but someone steps on the gas on “Loving Cup”. Jagger lays into a gutsy vocal. The song had a subsequent controversy when their previous manager, Allen Klein sued them for royalties claiming that the song was written during the time they were under contract to his company. Very rock ‘n roll.
“Happy” opens Side Three. This is a concert favourite when Mick leaves the stage and Keith croaks his way through this song. Apparently on one recording day Richards came to the studio early before the other band members showed up, found a riff and they recorded it with subsequent vocals and instruments added later. “Ventilator Blues” is a funky thing and Mick Taylor has no doubt been privately educating his kids with a share of the royalties that came from composing this with Jagger and Richards. “I Just Want To See His Face” references Jesus and is like a Soul coda with call and response – so different and innovative. As is the gospel ballad “Let It Loose” with female chorus harmonies, distorted guitars and horns accompaniment with Keys (sax) and Price (trumpet) providing backing for the ladies to take this gem home. This has never been subsequently played live but has ended up on two film soundtracks. My favourite track on the album.
I can’t believe there is another side to go!
Side Four rocks out starting with “All Down The Line” that seems to be an arrangement that we hear a lot of in later albums. Next the cover of Robert Johnson’s “Stop Breaking Down (Blues)” is without doubt the best cover of this standard. The band light it up with howling harmonica and great muscular guitar passages. All other efforts by latter day Blues luminaries are damp squibs compared to this. “Shine A Light” apparently is about Brian Jones and started life under Allen Klein’s management and became another legal dispute. As in all these histories about the album and songs then you have to be sceptical but it is a fine rocker with gospel leanings and a wonderful vocal. “Soul Survivor” ends the journey and what a journey it is.
There is a lot to discover and love. If some of the immense anthems and commercial classics were the earlier phase then this was a ‘back to basics’ package. Given that Richards was operating on automatic for another decade, as his addictions led him by the nose, you do feel that Jagger took control and led them into a patchy future of hits and outtakes on future albums. This is possibly forgivable as who was pushing or buying Blues and Country Rock albums in the Eighties or Nineties? Whatever the facts then the later records are out there awaiting my discovery and dissection. Can’t wait.
Ruth LaMaster, resident of St Louis, had three previous albums but wanted to move up a level with the next. To do this she persuaded drummer, Blues Rock producer and Grammy winner, Tom Hambridge, to lead the team. Magic ensued. Tom Hambridge has sat in with many luminaries and recent production credits include Buddy Guy and Mike Zito’s last barnstormer, Make Blues Not War. She knew what she was doing with this recruitment.
The calibre of musicians is weapon grade with ex sidemen for Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton and Joe Bonamassa. Hambridge places her up front; with that lungpower and charisma the results are fabulous. McMaster spends a lot of time on the road and it is no surprise the first track is “Barrelhouse Joe’s”. An easy swing rhythm tells you about ‘rolling till the break of dawn…’ and gives you a clue as to the type of night you might experience! Guitars and piano interplay.
“Far From The Cradle” (but we ain’t ready for the grave) allows the band to take it down for a 12 bar Blues. A wondrous guitar passage between Pat Buchanan and Rob McNelley leads off before Reese Wynams, on piano, takes his solo. The song was inspired by her father and her start at his bar where she used to sing. In the meanwhile we hear McMaster sing the hell out of the song. “My Heart Aches For You” is more slow Blues, an organ grumbles in the background before a beautiful picked guitar solo allows her to step away from the microphone to catch her breath. Think of a female Bobby ‘Blues’ Bland.
McMaster can sing at any volume and shows mellifluous tones when the lights are dimmed or delivering a stadium raunchy bellow if the song demands it. Pace changes demonstrate the flexibility and ability of McMaster to own the whole spectrum of the Blues.
“Estilene” is lively heartfelt advice to a ‘preacher’s daughter’ to leave married men alone (as it won’t lead to a long happy love). Hey, Ruth this is the Blues, so what did you expect? Out of the 12 tracks then nine are originals co written between McMaster and Hambridge but there is no doubt about the origins of “Whole Lotta Rosie”. Vintage AC/DC gets an authentic rerun. McMaster’s vocal is terrific with the rap introduction before the band hits the Australian groove. With a true Bon Scott plaintive howl she kills it.
A Willie Dixon compliment about her voice led to the name. He compared her vocals to a hurricane. He called it right. She’s not particularly famous and says she’s ‘humble and hard working’. Maybe this heat inducing 53 minutes can propel her to greater things.
Peach is an album that Blues aficionados will approach with caution. Reworking Robert Johnson and Blind Willie McTell songs is a dangerous business. However, the Lovell sisters do a great job, in fact I’m contrite for even doubting them. The renditions are hard-hitting and memorable.
The album includes five Blues covers and showcases Larkin Poe’s understanding of the genre with their energetic, sympathetic and passionate interpretations. If you add five fire-breathing Indie-flecked originals, you have a fine collection.
Larkin Poe comprises multi-instrumentalists Rebecca and Megan Lovell, Kevin McGowan (drums) and Tarka Layman (bass). Despite performing for some time then Larkin Poe is a relatively recent incarnation (2014). The story goes that after putting a few Blues videos online to a vociferous crowd they responded by recording an album of original compositions and Blues covers. What is clear is that they love the songs and have the authenticity and raw emotion to be convincing in producing Mississippi Delta and Southern standards.
Rebecca’s vocals have depth and presence; Megan sings harmony whilst coaxing mesmerising sounds out of her Rickenbacker Lap Steel. It is the masterful arrangements and high production values, which take this record to the next level. This is demonstrated on their own composition “Freedom”. A simple Rock riff starts proceedings and then the fuzzed-up drum and bass beat joins whilst a vocal chant completes the rhythm. The production separates every sound perfectly with the most important sounds are up front in the mix. “Black Betty” arrives with a North Mississippi Allstars type of arrangement. Instead of Luther we hear Megan tear up a storm. It was always an unstoppable song and certainly no brakes are applied here.
Son House’s “Preachin’ Blues” is played out against a thunderous back beat. The words never fail to have an impact – “I’m going to be a preacher, so that I don’t have to work”. If “re-imagining” is the right description then the original’s message remains intact whilst sounding very 21st Century.
“John The Revelator” would stop traffic it is so good. Rebecca’s slow vocals over an eerie backing nails the standard. It’s here that the quality of her voice shows its interpretative skills as she sits above a multi-handclap rhythm whilst an excoriating guitar clears a path.
The album finishes with an Alan Lomax-sourced 1959 cover of a prisoner gang song – “Tom Devil”. Very much a call and response refrain. There’s no cherry picking the hits by these two.
Kendell Marvel emerges from the shadows with the release of his first album, Lowdown & Lonesome. For a couple of decades he’s been writing hit records for the cream of Country music. Marvel says “I decided to make that record (Lowdown & Lonesome) once credible music started coming out again”. With Sturgill Simpson, Jason Isbell and Chris Stapleton being promoted by the mainstream then you can see why.
Marvel has writing credits for Gary Allan, Blake Shelton, Lee Ann Womack, Travis Tritt and George Strait (as well as Stapleton). However, the good news is that he’s kept back some gems for his own album.
The selection is pure early millennium Country, which includes sentimental classic tearjerkers and some full-bloodied rockers adorned with pedal steel and fiddle.
“Lowdown & Lonesome” kicks things off with a raw electric guitar riff that quickly finds a groove with Marvel sharing his lover’s lament. There is a strong infusion of Southern Rock and Blues. “Gypsy Woman” takes things down and a Hammond organ, sounding absolutely magnificent, underpins this slow rolling melody. On this and several other songs he sounds somewhat like Chris Stapleton but he is very much his own man. “Watch Your Heart” continues to show his gift for a slow song. Eventually this ramps up into an Allman Brothers style rock out with snatches of twin guitars and harmonica.
“Closer To Hell” betrays his day job for others. A classic Country song about being driven to drinking whilst guitars pick, twang or slide. This is always at a gentle lick with signature sounds bordering on comedy – despite this journey to purgatory.
Honky tonk piano on “Untangle My Mind” embellishes a standard upbeat song. Which was co written with Stapleton. “Hurtin’ Gets Hard” just about clambers over the other tracks to be my stand out. For a man who never chose to sing his own songs he has a rich and deep baritone that is often commanding yet yearning.
Lastly “That Seat’s Saved”: the title tells you alone that this is a barroom tale about a girl ‘that is all that and more’ who he’s hoping arrives to take her place beside him. The voice with pedal steel when combined is exquisite.
This is an exceptional record and for those of you who’ve become fans of Chris Stapleton and also regularly check the Internet for the next Jamey Johnson album then you’ll be thrilled to own this. Thank heavens he eventually concluded it was time to say his piece.
This is a complete tonic for jaded Country music ears. And who knows with his friends in high places and the Country pop sensibilities then this may get some decent radio exposure. Wonderful.
Travis Meadows’ life is frankly overwhelming. He’s suffered parental abandonment, childhood cancer, addictions/rehabs, many years of preaching and, not least, composing and playing some exceptional music. Somehow he seems to have lived every lyric that I have in my record collection.
First Cigarette is his third release and boasts some impressive collaborations starting with Jay Joyce, who literally has a ‘who’s who’ of Nashville talent using his production services – Keith Urban, Little Big Town, Brandy Clark & Eric Church, the list is much longer but you get the picture. After you’ve written hit records for Dierks Bentley and Jake Owens then you have a lot of Country song writing luminaries on speed dial and several appear in the credits.
So this is all bright and shiny Country pop? Well not at all although it does have some of that sensibility as regards a melody, a layered sound and some compelling words. We start gently with “Sideways” as Meadows sings with an acoustic guitar before the backing creeps in. The words set the scene for a trip through a life that has had its battles, defeats and victories – “If I could buy myself a conscience that wasn’t broken, Mend every fence I drove my hard head through, Re-lock all the doors I wish I never opened, Unlearn the things I wish I never knew, And it came through the bottle, It came out through my fists, It came out way to early, I wish it never did.”
Fasten your seat belt we may experience turbulence.
“Pray For Jungleland” obviously references The Boss but the whole album lyrically reminded me of the storytelling skills of the New Jersey deity. It is here that Meadows’ slightly straining but insistent and attractive voice brings a conviction and gravity to the rendition.
The title track “First Cigarette” has a stunning vocal as Meadows against a sparse arrangement tells of his reaching a point where he’s learned a lot of lessons and is able to cope with life and take simple pleasures. In fact he’s said that after kicking various addictions then he’s staying with cigarettes as his last remaining legal indulgence!
“Underdogs” sees the stadium raise their hands above their heads to clap in time with the hypnotic drum beat and roar out the chorus – “We are – we are, we are the underdogs”. After a little while I can envisage a skinny man wearing a denim shirt with long hair stepping forward for a few incendiary guitar licks before the spotlight fades on him and all the band find a microphone to sing out the song in unison. A simple lyric, a simple tune but a major impact.
“Pontiac” is back with Bruce and I reckon I would be trying your patience by quoting another lyric but this is a terrific Rock paean to someone who is finding their way through their emotional and material millennial adventures.
All the compositions really deserve a name check but suffice to say that the voice leads with a great tune, lyrics that make you want to catch every word and arrangements that showcase rather than swamp to compensate for any shortage of creativity or talent.
Much of the record could sit comfortably on a Rock station playlist. It isn’t Country, but there again who cares? The point is that you’re going to like this a lot.
Tony Ives’ Blog 