What if Lady Gaga turned out to be The Antichrist? Imagine armies of her meat-clad minions cutting a huge swath of destruction across the country. Entire towns are being leveled by massive, boob-guided lasers. Deep below the earth’s surface, a team of scientists works frantically in its secret bunker to develop an antidote. Finally, they emerge with a powerful force – the only weapon that can crush the protective titanium globe around Lady Gaga’s head. That weapon, my friends, is the mighty sound of Big Maybelle’s voice: Ain’t To Be Played With

Although we’re clearly delusional, those of us hiding out in RCR’s bunker are dedicated to bringing a little overdue recognition to artists who remain criminally ignored. And you’d be hard-pressed to come up with a more deserving subject than Big Maybelle.

Consider that she recorded Whole Lot of Shakin’ Goin’ On more than two years before Jerry Lee Lewis set the world on fire with his more rockin’ version, recorded at Sun Studios in May 1957. Granted, Jerry Lee kicks the song into overdrive. But he can’t top Big Maybelle’s voice, which sounds like it could peel every layer of paint off the church: Whole Lot of Shakin’ Goin’ On

Shakin’ is one of many outstanding tunes Big Maybelle cut for the Okeh label from October 8, 1952 through March 21, 1955 that feature the crème de la crème of New York City studio musicians, including Sam “The Man” Taylor on tenor sax, the red-hot Mickey Baker on guitar and the legendary Panama Francis on drums. But the centerpiece of these songs is clearly that big, bold and brassy voice – a truly wondrous sound, even by the high standards of post-war, pre-rock R&B. A voice that made a microphone and PA system seem practically meaningless. Where the hell did this 250-pound powerhouse come from?

A little background… Born on May 1, 1924 in Jackson, TN, Mabel Louise Smith honed her awe-inspiring instrument in the tradition of the Sanctified Church, a highly spirited denomination that made Southern Baptists seem positively tame. At this point, I’ll defer to music researcher Peter Grendysa’s liner notes from “Big Maybelle – The Complete Okeh Sessions”:

“At the age of eight (Mabel) fearlessly entered the Memphis Cotton Carnival amateur contest and took home First Prize. Pushed to the front of her local Sanctified Church congregation, little Mabel learned to shout and cry for the glory of the Lord. The raw, uninhibited emotion of her church remained with her throughout her professional career.”

But so did an insatiable lust for the bad stuff. Obviously, she ate more than her fine frame could handle. And a nagging drug habit throughout her adult life contributed to her poor health. Grendysa’s notes include this revealing quote from an autobiography by Ralph Cooper, a former emcee at the Apollo Theater: “She was a wonderful singer and a funny character who did a lot of sniffin’. Heroin was her thing, and it cost a lot of money. She used to hang out at the theater, and whenever she needed the powder, which was all the time, she would put the touch on anybody who was around” – including the great boxer Joe Louis, who apparently had a soft spot for Big Maybelle’s constant come-ons for money.

The one-two punch of an unhealthy lifestyle and drug use led to Big Maybelle’s untimely demise in 1972. She passed away in a diabetic coma in Cleveland at the relatively young age of 47.

Mickey Baker

Big Maybelle wasn’t as prolific as some of her contemporaries, including Big Mama Thornton and Etta James. But her explosive Okeh tracks remain some of best examples of blues-influenced R&B you can find from the Fifties.

Previous to ’52, Big Maybelle had recorded for Cincinnati’s King Records and toured as a singer for labelmate Tiny (Train Kept a Rollin’) Bradshaw’s jump blues band. During the down time, she’d perform in some of the bustling nightclubs across the river from Cincinnati in Newport, KY. At one of those gigs, a local DJ named Ernie Waits introduced her to indie record man Fred Mendelsohn, who cut a deal with Big Maybelle right on the spot. Mendelsohn eventually set up the Okeh recording dates in NYC that cemented her reputation as one of the most dynamic voices in R&B.

The next tune is from her first session for Okeh. It opens with a nice sax riff by Taylor and features some meaty fills by jazz guitarist James Cannady, who also recorded with Miles Davis and Benny Carter, among others: So Good To My Baby

Baker joined the sessions in January ’54, and his stinging, bluesy guitar served as the perfect foil for Big Maybelle’s soulful growl: No More Trouble Out Of Me

Here’s a hidden gem from one of Big Maybelle’s last sessions for Okeh, with a Ray Charles-like arrangement and more stunning guitar from Baker: Don’t Leave Poor Me

Big Maybelle continued to perform and record as her health declined, with mixed results. She cut some great sides for the Savoy label from 1956 to 1959 – some in a jazzier vein, but others that matched the power and majesty of her Okeh recordings. This one was covered by Charles Brown on his excellent 1990 release “All My Life”: That’s a Pretty Good Love

She also was a major influence on a young Aretha Franklin, who later covered two songs from Big Maybelle’s Savoy years – Pitiful and So Long – on her unheralded album “Soul ’69.”

I may not understand the junkie lifestyle, but when I listen to Big Maybelle’s classic sides from the Fifties, I definitely want more. And that’s the tragedy of her all-too-brief career – although I’m hoping Big Maybelle’s legacy will outlive Lady Gaga’s titanium headdress. I’ve Got a Feelin’

This might be the only live video of Big Maybelle on youtube – from the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival:

Brother Jack is back with a reconsideration of that old lefty anthem, Kumbaya.

Time for a change of pace here at RCR, an interlude from the rock and blues. Time to quiet it down and turn off the amps. Time to tear down the drums, pack up the fuzz boxes, and bring out the acoustic guitars, banjos, dulcimers and autoharps. We’re going to talk about a folk song.

You readers know that my brother Tim came up in the heyday of rock and roll and tries to keep alive the memory of blues-influenced rock. Being a little older, I got caught up in an earlier craze, “the great folk scare” as it is sometimes called by the survivors of the era. So for a change of pace and a chance to give Tim a break from his grueling blogging schedule I’m going to talk about the world’s most famous folk song, Kumbaya.

You know the song; you may be very tired of the song. Maybe you were forced to sing it over and over at summer camp. Maybe you sang endless choruses at Folk Mass — “Someone’s dying, Lord, Kumbaya.” Maybe when you heard the song you felt like Bluto (John Belushi) in the movie Animal House when he came across an impromptu rendition of I Gave My Love a Cherry:

Kumbaya is much maligned these days. It would be hard to sing the song anymore without being ridiculed. Some people think that it addles the brain, getting people to sing together who really should be killing each other. Some people think the song encourages coddling terrorists. Many years ago, I saw a  T-shirt with a cartoon of a drill sergeant grabbing a long-haired peace protester around the neck and shouting, “Kiss my kumbaya, hippie!” That gave me a jolt. I used to sing the song a lot back in the days of the folk scare. I didn’t know I was making anyone angry. I was just learning my first three chords on the guitar. I played it a lot at Folk Mass in Ann Arbor, MI, and I’m sure there were a lot of people in the pews thinking “what ever happened to Panis Angelicus?” It wouldn’t have occurred to me then, but they may have wanted to do a Bluto on my guitar.

How was this song transformed from an uplifting spiritual to the whipping boy for the right? Jeffrey Weiss of the Dallas Morning News did extensive research, and the first reference that he could find mocking the song was from Aug. 16, 1985. In a Washington Post review, Rita Kempley wrote, “Tom Hanks and John Candy make war on the Peace Corps in Volunteers, a belated lampoon of ’60s altruism and the idealistic young Kumbayahoos who went off to save the Third World.” Upon questioning by Weiss, Kemply could not remember seeing such a mocking reference before. Yet, probably Kumbaya’s loss of innocence started before 1985. The swing to the right was in full force during the Reagan years, and this innocent song was probably one of the first victims of the backlash.

The song got off to a non-controversial start. It was one of many folk spirituals found by collectors. Back in the time before internet and blogs, those wanting to prevent good music from being forgotten had to do it the hard way, by recording it on a wax cylinder. Two such music preservers were Robert Winslow Gordon and John Alan Lomax. Gordon founded the Archive of American Folk Song at the Library of Congress, and in his collection was a recording of Come By Here sung by Ethel Best and Group in Raiford, FL and recorded by John Lomax in early May of 1936. A transcription of this recording reveals a song that probably sounded very similar to the one recorded soon after the Selma march in 1965 by the congregation at Zion Methodist Church in Marion, AL: Come By Here

Robert Winslow Gordon, calibrating equipment for future use by RCR research staff

A similar song, Come By Yuh, was collected sometime between 1922 and 1931 and published in a collection of spirituals called “The Carolina Low Country.” Come By Yuh is Gullah dialect for “Come By Here” and is probably why the song came to be known as Kumbaya. Here is an example to give you an idea of how a spiritual sung in that area of Georgia sounded. This is Bessie Jones and the Georgia Island Singers performing O Day: O Day/Georgia Island Singers

A Rev. Marvin V. Frey copyrighted the song and claimed to have written it in 1936. The consensus now is that he wrote the song in the same way that George Harrison wrote My Sweet Lord. If you recall, the court ruled that Harrison subconsciously recalled an earlier song, He’s So Fine. Frey’s version of Kumbaya was published in hymnals and disseminated widely, and this is probably the reason it still survives.

During the time of the great folk scare, due to mistreatment at the hands of countless folkies, Kumbaya contracted a serious case of anemia and became ripe for ridicule. But the song still retained its power, propelled by the great voice of Joan Baez: Kumbaya/Joan Baez

Or this fine arrangement by those blacklisted lefties, The Weavers: Kumbaya/The Weavers

I believe Kumbaya was a victim of the political winds, and I say it’s time to resurrect it. In the best spirit of this blog, let’s try to find some new life in the old music. If ever there were a time we need to be singing together, it’s now — and this is a real easy song to sing and play. But maybe three chords on the guitar is a little too wimpy. Searching the web, I found a version with some powerful gospel piano and a full chorus — multicultural, no less. Check out this version from J’on & Voices. Maybe it will help bring the song back to life. And, as that old lefty Pete Seeger would say, “everybody sing along, Kumbaya”:

We’re in full holiday mode here in the Rubber City – plenty of white stuff on the ground and white people in our malls searching for Susan Boyle’s latest CD.

Now I’ve got nothing against Ms. Boyle, who recently released a Christmas album called “The Gift.” And I’m sure the album will hit its sales targets without RCR’s support. But when it comes to holiday-themed music, I prefer something with more of an edgy, go-for-broke, Santa’s been drinkin’ again vibe. The kind of music that typically doesn’t get piped into a Wal-Mart store. James Brown’s Funky Christmas. Blue Yule. Christmas Greetings from Jamaica’s Studio One. Hillbilly Holiday. Anything by Otis Redding, Billie Holiday, Amos Milburn or Sister Rosetta Tharpe will do just fine too.

With that in mind, here’s Rubber City Review’s second annual holiday song roundup – the perfect soundtrack for sharing a yule log with that special friend or loved one.

I love the fact that James Brown appears in “Ski Party,” a b-movie with Frankie Avalon about non-stop hi-jinx on the high slopes of Idaho (video clip at end of post). And I don’t think it’s ever fully explained how J.B. and his Famous Flames got there, or how they became the resort’s resident ski patrol. That’s a long way from Augusta G-A (although I’m sure the Godfather of Soul’s fabulous footwork would serve him well on the slopes). I’m far more comfortable with the idea of J.B. reinventing the classic Christmas song with more urban fare like Go Power at Christmas Time and Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto. Here’s another fine funky take on the holiday season from the world’s most soulful Santa: Let’s Make Christmas Mean Something This Year/James Brown

When Jamaican music legend Clement “Cosxone” Dodd founded his Studio One label back in ’54, I don’t think he had holiday songs in mind. But when you record as many artists as he did – Bob Marley and the Wailers, Lee “Scratch” Perry, Toots and the Maytals, The Skatalites and The Ethiopians, to name a few – you’re bound to come up with a few holiday gems. The “Christmas Greetings from Studio One” collection delivers the goods and then some with tunes by Marley, Toots, The Silvertones and other masters of ska and reggae. Think Christmas on the beach with a string of lights hanging from a palm tree, a case of Red Stripe, some jerk chicken… well, I’ll just leave it at that. Jingle Bells/Roy Richards

Christmas in California is another alien concept to those of us who spend much of the holiday season chipping ice and blowing snow. But we can always dream. And sometimes we drift away on thoughts of bikini beach parties at twilight, with freshly scrubbed kids named Bif, Binky, Tad and Ginger dancing around an open fire to the sound of twangy guitars against the crashing surf. Then the snow plow slams into the curb outside and it’s back to reality. Screw it… Time to hit the hard stuff, drop the needle on “The Ventures Christmas Album” and start twisting the night away. Where the hell did I put that goose-down Speedo? Jingle Bell Rock/The Ventures

What about the guy who has everything? You know, Magnavox hi-fi, portable wet bar, leopard-skin furniture, Philco TV… Maybe he’s never had his mind blown by the exotic sounds of Esquivel – his piano, orchestra and chorus. Let’s go right to the liner notes from “Esquivel! Merry Xmas from the Space-Age Bachelor Pad” (Hoboken’s Bar/None label): “Mingle ‘round your tinsel-draped Sputnik, flick on the twinkling lights, fix up a libation if you like, and let Esquivel’s otherworldly sounds transport you into Santa’s saucer, high in the stratosphere on Christmas eve.” I’m sure this would’ve sounded great on my dad’s home-built Heathkit, if only he could’ve fixed that annoying buzz in the left channel… White Christmas/Esquivel

Many posts ago, we talked about the glory years of Cincinnati’s legendary King Records label and studio. And I’m surprised it’s taken me this long to come across “Merry Christmas, Baby,” a compilation of holiday-flavored King R&B. How can you lose with a lineup that includes Charles Brown (Merry Christmas Baby), Lowell Fulson (Lonesome Christmas, Pts. 1 and 2), Lloyd Glenn (Sleighride) and Johnny Moore’s Blazers (Christmas Letter)? Richmond, VA, native Mabel Scott scored a hit with this next tune back in 1948, a year before she became Charles Brown’s wife for about a New York minute. After a second marriage failed in the mid-‘50s, Scott went back to her gospel roots and left the more secular pleasures of boogie woogie behind: Boogie Woogie Santa Claus/Mabel Scott

Time to drag Santa through the honky tonk, pour some whiskey over his head and toss him out the back door. Last year we featured Daddy’s Drinking Up Our Christmas by Commander Cody – one of several roasted chestnuts on “Hillbilly Holiday,” a great collection of country-flavored Christmas tunes. Let’s revisit that bonanza of backwoods fun with Brenda Lee, the 4 foot 9 inch dynamo from Atlanta. Lee scored a hit in 1960 with Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, which actually was recorded two years earlier. But it wasn’t her first holiday rodeo. This next tune was the B side of a 1956 single (w/ Christy Christmas) aimed squarely at the kids, but with just enough of the honky tonk in it to keep the barflies happy too. I’m Gonna Lasso Santa Claus/Brenda Lee

I’ve always wanted to spend the holidays in New Orleans. But I fear my Christmas spirit would be tested in a city where the nights are far from silent and holy. At least I could sober up listening to the sacred sounds of the world-famous Zion Harmonizers. They started as a quartet of teenagers back in 1939, singing traditional spirituals in the churches of New Orleans’ old Zion City neighborhood. Now they’re a powerful sextet that likes to mix it up a little bit with more modern arrangements of tunes like Down By The Riverside, and tourists can sometimes catch them at the House of Blues’ Sunday Gospel Brunch. I’m sure more than a few omelets go uneaten when they launch into this tune (special thanks to Bill Austin in St. A for this one): White Christmas/The Zion Harmonizers

As long as we’ve got the gospel spirit, let’s close this one out with the pride of Cotton Plant, Arkansas – Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Here she gives O Little Town of Bethlehem the sanctified treatment. Sister Rosetta also recorded a few blues and R&B numbers during her remarkable career, and she never got enough credit for serving as an inspiration to Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash – virtually anyone who recorded at Sun Studios during the ‘50s. And brothers and sisters, could she play some guitar (visual evidence provided in video below). Dear readers, repent for your sins… throw away those holiday CDs by Sting, Michael Bublé, Mariah Carey and the like, and get right with someone who really knows how to throw down a Christmas song: O Little Town of Bethlehem/Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Here’s James Brown and his Famous Flames entertaining a ski lodge full of shiny happy prepsters (notice how quickly J.B. and Flames head out the back door when the performance is over)…

And here’s one of the few living documents – video or otherwise – of Sister Rosetta’s amazing prowess on electric guitar:

It’s time to bring back the funk of Johnny “Guitar” Watson.

Why not? You can hear Seventies funk of every stripe on TV commercials and movie soundtracks by everyone from The Isley Brothers and Betty Wright to Curtis Mayfield and The Staple Singers. But sadly, Johnny G’s funk gems remained mostly buried in the past. As the man himself famously asked in the title of his ’79 album, what the hell is this?

And what about a Watson biopic? How can Hollywood green-light the Bobby Darin story “Beyond the Sea” and ignore one of the most storied musical careers of the 20^th century? I mean, Watson died on stage in the middle of a guitar solo. How can you come up with a more dramatic ending than that?

Alright, I’m done ranting… Let’s head over to RCR’s “happy place” and dive right into some of these mind-blowing songs.

Now I’m no music scholar, but I’ll go out on a limb by breaking down Watson’s career into three distinct eras:

1. The Early Blues Years
2. The Transition Period
3. Superpimp Funkdaddy

Born in Houston in 1935, Watson started out on piano but eventually took his place in a long line of great blues guitar slingers with strong ties to Texas, including Blind Lemon Jefferson, Lightnin’ Hopkins, T-Bone Walker, Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, Albert Collins and Johnny Copeland. In terms of Watson’s early blues years, I’ll defer to our good friend The Hound, who did a fine job of rounding up the best of those recordings here.

But I’ll throw in a couple observations about the radioactive blues numbers that Watson waxed in Los Angeles (where he moved as a teenager) back in the mid ‘50s for the RPM label. First, if you don’t have a collection of those songs – and several good ones are still available, including one you can order at the end of this post (“Hot Just Like TNT”) – then you need to right that wrong immediately. Here’s a little taste of what you’re missing… Too Tired Also, as Hound rightfully points out, Watson laid down some pretty fearsome tracks both before and after he recorded for RPM. And you’d be hard-pressed to find a better slow burner from the early ‘60s than Cuttin’ In. At the risk of melting your laptop speakers, I’ll pack as much as I can into this next sample… Cuttin’ In

We’ll place Watson’s transition period (which we touched on here) in the early to mid ‘70s, when he recorded a couple albums for the Fantasy label, home of Creedence Clearwater Revival. Some view this era as Watson’s sweet spot, when he found that perfect mix of blues and funk. I’m guessing that was the late blue-eyed soulman Robert Palmer’s opinion – he covered this next song on his “Some People Can Do What They Like” album from ‘76. I like the slow grind of Palmer’s version, but you can’t top the sweet caress of Watson’s guitar solo on the original: You’ve Got a Hard Head

Which brings us to Watson’s most commercially successful period, when he came into is own as the ultimate pimp-hustler-gangster-soulman-funkdaddy. And, from what I’ve read, it wasn’t necessarily a role that Watson played to give his act a little “street cred.” As music writer Peter Guralnick puts it in his book “Dream Boogie: The Triumph of Sam Cooke,” Watson was “a star on the L.A. r&b scene whose talent was exceeded only by his panache and his ambivalence about whether he wanted to be a singer or a pimp.” And Hollywood still hasn’t picked up on this??

Watson’s string of hit albums released on the DJM label in the ’70s started with “Ain’t That a Bitch” in ’76. And at this point, you might be wondering how an unreconstructed blues nut such as me could appreciate these records, which were produced and orchestrated to within an inch of their lives with lush horns, precise yet funky rhythms and the occasional string section and synthesizer.

Well, I’ll give you three good reasons (sorry, I’m stuck on triads… seeking help): 1. Watson’s guitar – filled with Texas funk and L.A. fire no matter what he played; 2. Watson’s voice – an amazingly soulful instrument that only got better with age; and 3. Watson’s sense of humor – which makes virtually all of these tunes hugely entertaining (if a bit dated).

I probably should add that he had a great sense of drama as an arranger, which he used to create some fairly audacious openings to his best songs. Listen to how he kicks off A Real Mother for Ya with some powerful guitar riffs (cushioned by lush horns, of course): A Real Mother For Ya And that was simply an attempt to outdo the badass majesty of “Bitch”: Ain’t That a Bitch

One of the great strengths of these recordings is the tension that his down-home blues guitar and voice creates against the uptown arrangements. When was the last time you heard a guitar like this on urban radio? Superman Lover

No question, his music captures a very distinct time and place in American pop culture, with references to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s sky-hook, “makin’ milk out of powder” and hoppin’ on a “jet plane DC-10,” which today is primarily used to move Fed-Ex packages and the unfortunate passengers of Ghana Airways. It was a time when you could still find blaxploitation films at the theater (not the megaplex) and you didn’t have to explain the term “Detroit lean in a deuce and a quarter.”

He was the original Gangster of Love – a cool character whose red-hot guitar inspired a long and diverse list of artists, including Steve Miller, Bobby Womack, Frank Zappa, Sly Stone and Jimmie and Stevie Ray Vaughan. And he eventually gained a strong following of rappers/hip-hoppers with his deft wordplay and larger-than-life personality.

Watson continued to record and perform throughout the ‘80s and into the ‘90s. One of his biggest champions during this period was Zappa, who even credited the song “Three Hours Past Midnight” for motivating him to pick up the guitar. “One of the things I admired about him was his tone, this wiry, kind of nasty, aggressive and penetrating tone, and another was the fact that the things that he would play would often come out as rhythmic outbursts over the constant beat of the accompaniment,” Zappa said (from “Zappa, a Biography,” by Barry Miles). “It seemed to me that was the correct way to approach it, because it was like talking or singing over a background. There was a speech influence to the rhythm.” Watson appeared on several of Zappa’s later albums, although mainly as a vocalist.

As I referenced at the top of the post, Watson went out in a blaze of glory. He dropped dead on stage in Yokohama, Japan, right in the middle of one of his funky-ass guitar solos. Reportedly, his last words were “ain’t that a bitch.” And I ain’t makin’ that shit up.

Before I Let You Go

At this point, I need to direct you to two videos on youtube, neither of which I’m able to host on my site. They show Johnny G in and his band in their prime, filmed live at a TV studio in Bremen, Germany in 1977. And they drive home the fact that Watson was one hell of a showman. Stick with Gangster of Love through the “calling all cars” schtick up front (if only to watch Watson ask his keyboard player what city they’re in) – the song starts at about the three minute mark. And on Ta-Ta, look how far up the neck of his guitar he places his capo, a la fellow Texans Gatemouth Brown and Albert Collins. Awesome solo too. So much soul:

• Gangster of Love
• I Want to Ta Ta You Baby

This next video is a surreal treat. As Frank Zappa was dying of cancer, his wife Gail would try to boost his spirits with Friday-night “salons” at his house – eclectic gatherings of musicians and artists who had little in common other than showing up in Zappa’s rolodex. “He liked to introduce people from entirely different musical traditions and see what happened when they played together,” Miles notes in “Zappa.” Filmed by the BBC in January ’93, this one includes Zappa’s long-time friend Watson as well as a trio of Tuvan throat singers, violinist L. Shankar and members of the Chieftains. Zappa died in December of that year.

One more piece of Watsonian lore… I found it interesting that, after guitarist Jimmie Vaughan parted ways with harp player/lead singer Kim Wilson and the Fabulous Thunderbirds in 1990, both men got in touch with their inner Watsons – Vaughan with a credible version of Motor Head Baby from his ’98 album “Out There,” and Wilson with this number that gives guitarist Duke Robillard a little room to burn too… She Moves Me/Kim Wilson with Duke Robillard

We’ve emptied all the bottles and thrown away the broken furniture. That means our panel of judges has completed its deliberations and picked a winner to The Black Keys ticket giveaway.

But first, a few idle musings (in other words, let’s take a cue from all those lame-ass reality shows and leave you hanging a little bit)…

The best entries seemed to fall into two basic categories: funny and heart-rending. Regarding the former, funny is funny. It really doesn’t matter if our readers make this stuff up. If you can elicit a small laugh, or perhaps even a mild chortle, from a group of folks who share the same grim outlook as a meteorologist for a Cleveland TV station, then you’ve accomplished something. Hard-luck stories are much more difficult to judge. And I wouldn’t dare accuse anyone of making up one of these tales of woe. On the other hand, it seemed completely disingenuous to simply hand over the tickets to someone who lists the most mishaps in one tweet.

Then again, we’re not heartless bastards — even though we live in a city where asking for spare change is simply the first step in a lengthy negotiation. So we decided to announce winners in both categories, with a slight twist for the “non-humorous” award.

First, some of our favorites among those that made us smile.

Several contestants tried to string together the most references to Black Keys song titles, with varying results. Here’s one from Linjatheninja:

• I have a Strange desire for your touch during these strange times. So tighten up and give me those tickets for your show in Chicago!

OK, the “tighten up” reference didn’t work very well, but still clever. Or how about this one from Sam_Huber:

• Because I’m Busted, having No Fun Everywhere I Go, and b4 I become a Psychotic Girl, I need to see the Explosion on NYE!

Maybe Sam couldn’t spring for the tickets because he’s saving up for the sex change operation.

One of my favorites (from cgross) expertly mimicked the cover of The Black Keys’ latest album:

• This is a request for Black Keys tickets for New Years. This request should be the winner.

And we had a hard time resisting this one from MikaGolfcat:

• My psychic grandma said it’s auspicious to start a new year with great music played by a bearded man and a man with glasses.

The editor in me wanted to change it to “guy with glasses,” but you get the basic idea.

A few more favorites:

• fodork: I wanna rep AK in SHYY! give me the black eyed peas… er, black keys nye tix!
• abaldwin3278: should award the Keys’ tickets to me because I sold Dan his TV and need to follow up on how he enjoys it so
• ryanwells21: Black Keys=favorite band. Went to Bonaroo to see them put passed out before show from no water. I live right by Chicago!
• Enen1: You had me at “Goin’ upstairs to pack my leavin’ trunk”
• AcWendel: I need to prove to science that Stendhal Syndrome is contagious and doesn’t need a cure.
• MattGrouponPitt: Native of the Rubber City, Living in Chicago. Would make my NYE to win tickets to The Black Keys, will also settle for a Galley Boy…

Matt, next time you’re in town, look me up. I’ll take you to Swenson’s.

But the tweet that got the most votes from Dan’s uncles and aunts was this one, from AtomKanner:

• ‘Girl is On My Mind’ is a Zales commercial! I’d like to celebrate with the Keys and then yell at em.

Congrats, Atom… You’re a wiener! Enjoy New Year’s Eve with the Keys at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago. But understand that security has your twitter photo, so you won’t be allowed anywhere near the band.

As far as the other two tickets are concerned, I kept going back to this very straightforward entry from mvgpictureguy:

• I get back from Iraq about 4 days before the show! – perfect christmas present for me and my girlfriend!

Merry Christmas, picture guy (pictured in cammo on twitter)… I never considered enlisting, and I’m pretty sure the military wouldn’t have taken me even in my prime. Just seemed like a small way to show our appreciation. Now get home safely to pick up your tickets.

We’ll close with yet another video sent to us by Dan. It features two of the greatest stringbenders of all time, Roy Nichols and Roy Buchanan, backing up Merle Haggard at the Blackboard Bar in Oildale, CA. Buchanan’s solo on Merle’s Travelin’ Blues is a revelation.

(c)BarryFeinsteinphotography.com

How many of you are heading to Akron for the holidays?

Actually, once you get past the startling lack of color and “fresh as the driven slush” look of our winter landscapes, this time of year has its charms in the Rubber City. Especially when you can avoid the chill outside by checking out the current attraction at the Akron Art Museum – Who Shot Rock & Roll: A Photographic History, 1955 to the Present.

Akron Art Museum

The touring exhibition features 174 photos and 8 videos by 111 photographers and videographers, including Richard Avedon, Anton Corbijin, Diane Arbus, Annie Leibovitz and many more. It landed at our world-class museum on October 23, so of course it’s time for RCR to announce its arrival (we’ll celebrate the 40^th anniversary of The Numbers Band sometime next year). Besides, our good friend Barbara Tannenbaum, Director of Curatorial Affairs at the Museum, assured us that even a plug from the barely educated beer-swilling contrarians at RCR would be welcome as the holiday season quickly approaches.

“No form of music has ever been as integrally tied to the visual arts as rock and roll,” says Tannenbaum. “Photographers of rock did not just document the musicians and concerts. They helped create identities for the performers and their musical styles, providing visual equivalents as thrilling and entrancing as the music itself. This exhibition reveals, for the first time, the nature of the relationship between photography and rock and roll.”

Even though many of the photographs are by now familiar to the rock faithful, they still deliver a jolt – reminding us how the transcendent power of a great rock show could turn your standard multi-use facility into a sacred place of worship. Of course, the stars themselves look fabulous in settings that range from subterranean sleaze (the Ramones) to high-fashion glitz (Grace Jones). And who can resist the seduction of Amy Winehouse in bed, er… seducing herself? But the exhibition serves more as a tribute to the unsung heroes of rock ‘n roll – the photographers and artists who helped create the form’s most lasting images, including a few that focus on frenzied crowds and fans as well as the stars they idolize.

The Ramones, Ian Dickson/www.late20thcenturyboy.com

“Rock and roll was a bipartite revolution: the sound and the image,” said guest curator Gail Buckland. “The music alone could not create the revolution. The kids were reacting to the hairstyles and the clothes and the body language. And the people who gave rock its image are very, very important. Revolutions have to be documented to be believed.”

The exhibition offers a rare public look at some iconic rock ‘n roll images, including a 1963 photograph by Philip Townsend of the Rolling Stones half in the bag at an Australian pub; a candid shot of James Brown in curlers by Diane Arbus; Jean-Paul Goude’s working photographs and album cover for Grace Jones’ “Island Life”; the full sequence of never-before-exhibited photographs by Ed Caraeff of Jimi Hendrix burning his guitar at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967; Richard Avedon’s four classic 1967 Beatles portraits (as well as his stunning shot from 1961 of The Everly Brothers in Las Vegas); Ike and Tina Turner at Club Paradise in Memphis in 1962 by the African-American photographer Ernest Withers… And let’s not forget one of my favorite images – Alfred Wertheimer’s photograph of Elvis in rock’s golden year of 1956, canoodling backstage with an unnamed admirer:

Elvis Whispers Softly, (c)Alfred Wertheimer, The Wertheimer Collection

I also was captivated by Ebet Roberts’ 1993 photograph of The Cramps at New York City’s legendary CBGB club, with Akron’s own Lux Interior in all his sartorial splendor – wearing a skin-tight black vinyl jumpsuit with matching gloves and black pumps.

Some of the best photographs show image-conscious rock stars in private, unguarded moments. The previously mentioned shot of Amy Winehouse, Buddy Holly on a bus, Kurt Cobain breaking down backstage, Keith Richards having a smoke in Prague, Paul McCartney looking through his car’s rearview mirror… “People who later became icons were on the brink of their careers wondering whether anybody was ever going to notice them,” said the late photographer Linda McCartney. “That’s what made it exciting to be taking photographs. It was before the self-consciousness set in. I wanted to record what was there – every blemish, every bit of beauty, every emotion. I wasn’t interested in manufacturing a show business image.”

The exhibition also features music videos, a rock-and-roll chronology made from actual album covers, and an 80-image slide show by Henry Diltz – evocative of that whole Sixties back-to-the-land noble-hippie mythos that never seemed to get much traction in the Rubber City. And The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame generously contributed several rock costumes for display as part of the exhibition, including Phil Spector’s Gold Star Recording Studio jacket, Elton John’s sparkly “Hercules” suit, Tina Turner’s silver mini-dress and Madonna’s Girlie Show Tour purple velvet stage costume.

If that embarrassment of rock ‘n roll riches leaves you wanting more (or if you can’t make it to the Rubber City during the holidays), you can always spring for the exhibition catalog – a hardcover book authored by Buckland. “Who Shot Rock & Roll: A Photographic History, 1955 to Present” contains 298 color and black and white photographs, along with commentary about each image’s photographer, their influences and relationships with the musicians. The catalog will be sold in the Museum Store for $40, or can be purchased online at AkronArtMuseum.org.

Above: Wilson Pickett and Jimi Hendrix – Michael Randolph, Executor to the Estate of: William “PoPsie” Randolph.

Who Shot Rock & Roll is organized by the Brooklyn Museum with guest curator Gail Buckland. The exhibition will be at the Akron Art Museum through January 23, 2011. Also, the Museum will be open two extra days – Monday, Dec. 27  and Tuesday, Dec. 28 – to make it more convenient for those of you visiting from out of town.

Technically, this ain’t rock ‘n roll… but the Campbell Brothers rock a lot harder than anything on Cleveland radio. They’re a sacred steel gospel group from Rush, NY, with the mighty Chuck Campbell on pedal steel. This clip was filmed in ’98 at their home base, The House of God Church. If they open one in Akron, I’m in. Thank you Brother James…

Congrats, Dan and Pat! Four Grammy nods for The Black Keys:

• Best Alternative Music Album (“Brothers”)
• Best Rock Song (Tighten Up)
• Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals (Tighten Up)
• Best Rock Instrumental Performance (Black Mud)

Also, Pat’s brother Michael Carney was nominated for Best Recording Package for his “Brothers” artwork, which we touched on in our previous post.

Justin Bieber, beware… The Black Keys’ march toward world domination goes right up your backside!