Back in the heyday of Cleveland rock radio, this wildman named Murray Saul – sounding a lot like Howard Dean when he blew up his campaign for President – would usher in the weekend with a full-throttle rant on WMMS-FM. Here’s a taste from one of the station’s TV commercials, circa 1975:

Typically, Saul would stick it to the “slavedrivers” who owned us all week at the office or factory. Of course, that was back when most of us had office or factory jobs. Today, Saul’s rants seem like quaint reminders of an era when 5 p.m. on Friday was something worth celebrating. If you’re lucky enough to have a job today, it’s probably one of three low-paying gigs that keep you working all weekend. If not, well, Friday is just another day to smoke weed and hone your Xbox skills while waiting for your mom to get home so you can borrow her car.

I sort of enjoyed the whole ‘MMS “Home of the Buzzard” schtick, even though I was turned off by much of the station’s hard-rock playlist (did we really need to hear Ian Hunter’s “Cleveland Rocks” every four hours?). Which led me to wonder, what if I were in charge of picking the song that would officially kick off a weekend of unholy activity? What homage to hell-raising would I unleash on the populace, whipping thousands of worker bees into a frenzy of drinking, drug use and other forms of debauchery? Sure as hell wouldn’t be anything by Loverboy (with all due respect to ‘MMS fans around the world).

In my alternate universe, it could easily be something by Southern Culture on the Skids. “I got eight slappin’ pistons ri’cheer under my hood”… kind of says it all, doesn’t it? Sure, “just wrap your legs round these velvet rims and strap your hands across my engines” is a pretty cool come-on for a lost weekend together. But here in the real world, you only have a few seconds to make the pitch. So I’ll defer to SCOTS frontman Rick Miller and his timeless ode to parking-lot dating. Besides, how can you resist a song that name-checks Tony Joe White and announces its presence with the mighty cowbell? Voodoo Cadillac

In honor of The Black Keys’ new release dropping on December 6, I’ll simply point out that my favorite song on the album could wreak havoc any night of the week. Unfortunately, I can’t sample the cut without getting sued by my nephew. So let’s go back to one of the band’s more overlooked efforts, “Magic Potion,” and a tune that’s destined for the Garage Rock Hall of Fame. By the way, where would one locate such an establishment? Maybe Boone County, West Virginia – home of the one-man garage band, the late Hasil Adkins… or how about Link Wray’s “Three-Track Shack” on the family farm in Accocreek, Maryland? RCR’s phone lines are open… Your Touch

Those of you who reside on more rural routes probably like to start the weekend with a healthy dose of twang. Forget about that overprocessed horseshit you hear on modern country radio. Let’s revisit a honky tonk classic and one of the great career launchers of all time – the very first cut from Dwight Yoakam’s debut on the Reprise label. Once again, cars play a key role (hard to spend a memorable weekend without one). And thankfully, the guitars are in the capable hands of Pete Anderson, who along with Dwight led the “Back to Bakersfield” movement in the mid-‘80s. If it’s possible to make hillbilly music hip, those two guys pulled it off with this one: Guitars, Cadillacs

So Friday night rolls around, you’ve put in your 40+ at work, the next two days are all yours… but it still doesn’t seem like you have anything to celebrate. You can always ease into the weekend with a little blues, Jimmy Reed-style. Might help you face the facts – like, for example, your boss is a dick and you don’t get paid squat. Maybe this tune and a little “liquid courage” will help you set things straight on Monday morning. Good luck with that. Big Boss Man

I can already predict the comments. “How can you get the party started without the Bubba anthem, Freebird?” Well, I’ve hung out with a few bikers over the years… spent an evening or two at a Bourbon-fueled bonfire… experienced the primordial forces within this storied ballad-cum-guitar throwdown. I get it. But I’d rather start the weekend with Lucinda Williams spreading her own brand of Joy. This tune has no use for a ballad-style opening. It jumps in with a snarl and then works itself into a barely controlled rage. Which is how most people feel after five days at a dead-end job. So don’t hire me as your Friday-night DJ if you’re trying to escape reality. Joy

What’s the best party ever thrown? Woodstock. What was the best performance at Woodstock? Santana, hands down. OK, Sly and the Family Stone gave them a run for their money. But to me, Santana playing Soul Sacrifice defines Woodstock. And I can’t believe Carlos played as well as he did, watching his guitar neck writhe like a snake while he was tripping on acid (which is only more discouraging for the rest of us who can barely play straight). If I were head of the Rock Police, all drum solos would have been outlawed after Michael Shrieve tore it up at Woodstock. That dude from Rush can whirl around all he wants – he can’t touch what Shrieve laid down in ’69 (video below).

Now that I’ve downplayed Sly’s performance at Woodstock, I have to admit that he came up with one of my all-time favorite Friday-night jams: Thank You (Falletinme Be Mice Elf Agin). How can you hear that deep groove kick in – fueled by Larry Graham’s funky bass – and not want to jump up and shake something? I’m pretty sure this song helped popularize that unfortunate dance known as The Robot. But I’m willing to overlook that (and the title) to place it at or near the top of my list of weekend kick-starters. Hell, you could put another four or five tunes by Sly on that list. In fact, just slap on his Greatest Hits and stand back – someone’s about to hit the switch on this ‘bot. Thank You (Falletinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

We’ll close by taking one step back from Sly and paying tribute to the Godfather of Soul, James Brown. Forget about songs that build to a climax… This next tune starts with an explosion of sound and never lets up. The guy driving the beat is the original “Funky Drummer,” Clyde Stubblefield – someone who I’m sure didn’t miss Michael Shrieve’s attention back in the ‘60s. For a number of years, Stubblefield had a regular Monday-night gig at a small club in downtown Madison, Wisconsin (I understand he’s now ailing and in need of a new kidney… if anyone has an update on Clyde, set me straight). If you need the aural equivalent of a kick in the ass, bring this to the party and watch your backside. There Was A Time

Santana at Woodstock, with a 20-year-old Michael Shrieve. The only drum solo you’ll ever hear on this site. It’s been 42 years since this performance… Can any modern-day jam band touch this?

From the sublime to SCOTS… The wizards of white trash extol the many virtues of the Mojo Box:

(Click here, then read on.)

Mongolia… Mexico… Africa… Scandinavia… Rubber City Review travels the globe to bring you amazing and exotic sounds from far-away lands! From Tuvan throat-singing to Finnish disco, we offer a rare look at native peoples expressing their hopes, their fears, their joys, their tears… So climb aboard our special climate-controlled blimp as we take you on a journey you won’t soon forget, brought to you by Burma Shave: “When super-shaved, remember pard’ – you’ll still get slapped, but not so hard.”

Alright, got that out of my system. Didn’t feel like writing this week, so I was glad when my sister (Madame Auerbach) sent me a video of Mongolian throat singer and horse-hair fiddle player Bukhchuluun Ganburged serving up an otherwordly rendition of an old standard, Waltzing Matilda:

I’ve been on an African jag for a few months, and I keep coming back to Malian master Ali Farka Touré. Here’s a clip from one of his final performances, with fellow Malian Toumani Diabaté on kora and the late Orlando “Cachaito” López on bass. Deep African soul with a taste of Cuba. R.I.P., Ali and Cachaito…

This just in from Twitter: “That’s great, Tim, but when are you going to feature some Mexican surf-rock?” How about the Twin Tones – a band that I know absolutely nothing about, but they sure seem comfortable around some pretty cool vintage gear.

When in doubt, show one of the few existing videos of the world’s greatest Gypsy jazz guitarist, Django Reinhardt – seen here lounging around with his longtime sidekick, violinist Stephane Grappelli and a few sleazeballs… er, fellow Hot Clubbers in a swank hotel before they take the stage at a nearby club.

Let’s close this out with a stirring tribute to white peoples everywhere – from a place that’s got plenty of ‘em, Finland. For this clip, you can blame our West Coast correspondent, Mike Matousek:

Here’s a tasty guitarist I lost track of a few years back. Then when I recently looked into his newer stuff – expecting to hear more variations on the rock-solid blues he recorded in the ‘90s – I was surprised to find out he’d reinvented himself as a 21^st Century Rastaman… in a very sincere and soulful way. Let’s put it this way – the California native didn’t slap on a reggae beanie and start chunkin’ so he could get a gig on a cruise ship.

My first introduction to Rusty Zinn was a fine album he recorded for the Black Top label back in ‘96: “Sittin’ and Waitin’.” It was produced by Fabulous Thunderbird Kim Wilson, who also sings and plays soaring harp on a few tunes. I pulled the album out of cold storage after listening to Steve Cropper’s tribute to The “5” Royales, “Dedicated” – which I liked, but felt Rusty did a better job covering the band with his gritty remakes of 30 Second Lover and this classic: Think

Rusty the bluesman

As you can tell, Zinn really didn’t need any help from Wilson in the vocals department. Although he started out as a sideman in the Bay Area for blues-based artists like Mark Hummel, Larry Taylor (Canned Heat) and Wilson, Zinn started singing in the ‘90s, probably in anticipation of a solo career. And his voice has only gotten stronger and more assured with each release.

As I revisited some of Zinn’s stuff, I also remembered a conversation I had with bluesrocker Patrick Sweany about 15 years ago when I met him in a small club in Akron. After we shared a few niceties, he jumped right into a lengthy description of all that’s good and right about Rusty’s playing – a rootsy sound that combines the muscle and economy of a Cropper with the daredevil spirit of someone like Mickey Baker… a sound that seems to come from an era when Swing was King and shredding à la Stevie Ray was a disaster yet to happen: Stand By Me

Zinn put out another satisfying album for Black Top, “Confessin’” – a wide-ranging affair that included this great organ combo workout: Confessin’ About My Baby

He also did a brief stint at Alligator, recording “The Chill” in 2000 before moving on to a couple of smaller labels (Bad Daddy and 9 Above). That’s when things started to get real interesting…

His first post-Alligator release, “Zinfidelity, Vol. 1,” took a detour into classic ‘70s soul, including long-lost nuggets like Sammy Taylor’s Ain’t That Some Shame. Then the reggae influence began to take hold on 2007’s “Reggaeblue.” And the artist now simply known as “Rusty” hasn’t looked back since. He’s teamed up with some of Jamaica’s finest – including the legendary Sly Dunbar on drums and Mikey Chung on guitar – playing the island’s greatest export with surprising conviction. Here’s the title cut from his latest release, 2009’s “Manifestation”:Manifestation

Rather than try to guess what inspired Rusty’s move to reggae, we decided to ask the artist himself…

T.Q.: How did you get into the whole reggae groove? What were your main influences?

R.Z.: I was raised in Santa Cruz, which has always been a reggae-friendly town. I was exposed to reggae at an early age, and all my friends listened to a lot of reggae. However, it wasn’t until the mid-‘90s when my pal Bob Welsh turned me on to rock steady and early reggae through the music of Jimmy Cliff, Desmond Dekker and early Wailers. That started an almost “in the closet” fascination with Jamaican music, which eventually became a passion I couldn’t keep contained anymore! My biggest influences in Jamaican music have been classic singers such as Alton Ellis, Ken Boothe, Delroy Wilson, Slim Smith, Joe Higgs, Milton Henry and Clinton Fearon, just to name a few.

Rusty and Sly Dunbar

Do you still play the occasional blues gig, or are you solely devoted to reggae?

I am totally devoted to my reggae, rock steady and ska music. I turn blues gigs down left and right, unless it’s a gig I really want to do. Most of my blues playing now is only on recording sessions (they generally pay well!).

With the reggae influence now dominant, what’s changed about your guitar playing and singing?

The obvious change would be that I’ve committed myself to learning to play the music authentically, just like I did in all of my years playing blues. I sought out the pioneers of Jamaican music and have befriended many of my idols and have learned a lot from them. I never sing in patois but sing in my own voice to keep it real and be sincere with the genre. My guitar playing has taken a total back seat to my vocals. I do a lot of gigs with two guitar players, and I often will just merely sing on these gigs, which is very liberating! I have two guitar players in my group. One is Bob Welsh, who really is responsible for turning me into a bonafide Jamaican music nut. The other is the legendary Hux Brown, who played guitar on thousands of sessions with players like Bob Marley, Jimmy Cliff, Toots & The Maytals and Desmond Dekker, just to name a few. It’s funny, even though I don’t always play a lot of guitar on the shows, I have learned a lot about the guitar from Hux. My singing has become more intense and passionate singing this music because I never was really happy singing blues, and I feel like I’ve really found my voice. I always enjoyed playing blues on the guitar but was never satisfied singing blues. For about a year before I really took the plunge and started only playing reggae, I was singing soul music on the road with a seven-piece band including horns. I was also mostly just singing in that project as well and playing guitar on numbers that really needed it.

What do the old blues cats think about your reggae stuff? (I’ve noticed some blues players and fans can be a little parochial.)

I haven’t gotten much feedback from the old blues performers, as most of the older ones I used to perform with have passed on! Although Willie “Big Eyes” Smith got a kick out of it and laughed and told me he knew I went over to reggae cause that’s where all the weed was… He! He! Which is funny cause I don’t smoke herb at all. I have mostly gotten resistance from younger blues fans and performers. A lot of folks are always chatting behind my back. It often gets back to me. I grew dreadlocks and wore them for about five or six years and embraced many elements of the Rastafarian lifestyle for a time as well, and this seemed to terrify many “blues” folks. People told me I couldn’t switch to another genre and that I would be a bluesman forever, but I felt I needed to be singing something different that better suited my voice and songwriting talents. It has ultimately made me stronger to come up against this resistance. I’ve always loved music, not just blues. My first passions were R&B, soul, etc… and The Beatles when I was a young boy, which inspired me to learn the drums first. Not very many people know that! I even played drums in an after-school Motown cover band with girl singers when I was a teenager! We did one public performance back then before we all went our separate ways.

How has the move been from a business standpoint?

From a business standpoint it has been like starting all over again… I’ve been accused of being “crazy” and “courageous,” among other things. Some amazing things have happened to me in my reggae career already! The future looks bright, but the bottom line is I am happy singing and playing what I want. Check out www.rustyreggae.com and come join me on the journey.

More Rusty reggae… a live performance from “Parti Gras” in Toronto. Stick around for Rusty’s solo – he really burns it:

Andrae Crouch

I’ve been at this for more than two years now and this is our first post on gospel music. Bless me, my readers, for I have sinned…

I certainly feel sanctified now that I’ve seen “Classic Moments in Jubilee Showcase,” which features four broadcasts of the Emmy-winning gospel program that ran from 1963 to 1984 on WLS in Chicago. The Soul Stirrers, The Staple Singers, Andrae Crouch, Jessy Dixon, Inez Andrews… You can’t lose with this A-list of gospel talent. But the show’s secret weapon might have been its host, Sid Ordower – a buttoned-up guy who could’ve easily hosted a nationally syndicated game show, but made it his mission to present gospel music in a dignified, professional setting. And I’m not sure anyone’s done it better since.

I especially liked the ecumenical feel of Ordower’s commentary throughout the programs. As a Jewish man who was very active in the Civil Rights movement, Ordower brought a rich perspective to the music – one that made it clear the artists and their songs weren’t just glorifying a higher power, but also showing us a better way of living down here on earth. Here’s part of Ordower’s introduction of the Norfleet Brothers, from a 1964 broadcast:

“Many people wonder just where the spirituals and jubilee songs come from. But you know it’s really no mystery. They developed out of the experiences of people expressing their sorrows, their joys, their hopes and their deep yearnings for a better life. Some of these songs go back as much as 100 years. And they are as fresh and as full of meaning today as they were when they were originally sung.”

For a better sense of Ordower’s legacy, check out this 11-minute history of Jubilee Showcase, which includes parts of interviews with Mavis Staples and gospel/soul singer Otis Clay:

The performances by The Staple Singers alone – with Pops playing deep blues on guitar and Mavis wailing away – are worth the price of the DVD. But some of the lesser-known acts are equally fascinating, like the very funky Salem Travelers, named after the Greater Salem Baptist Church in Chicago. The group updates the gospel quartet tradition with a heavy dose of ’60s soul and even played New York City’s Apollo Theater – as it turned out, on the day Martin Luther King Jr. died. They eventually recorded a tribute to Dr. King, Tell It Like It Is, that they also performed on Jubilee Showcase on June 28, 1969. The group remembers it well, as singer Robert Dixon points out in one of the DVD’s interviews: “Sunday morning, a lot of them before they got to church they’d get ready to look at Jubilee Showcase. And they’d go to church saying ‘well, you know, those Norfleet Brothers really sung today! Those Salem Travelers were on there. Those Mighty Clouds…’ I was proud of it. I was very proud of it. It was just one of the best things that could’ve happened to the groups. As a matter of fact, I know it was.”

We’ll close with a little taste of Tell It Like It Is, recorded for the Chess subsidiary Checkers and arranged by Sonny Thompson, who played piano on some of Freddie King’s classic sides for the Cincinnati-based King label:

To order Classic Moments in Jubilee Showcase, check out this brief promo or go here.

But wait… There’s more! For some good old-fashioned showmanship, it’s hard to top The Mighty Clouds of Joy (from “TV Gospel Time,” a program that aired in Baltimore). Nice footage of gospel star (and show host) Jessie Mae Renfro too:

Here’s another hair-raising video of great American gospel. This one features The Campbell Brothers (with Chuck on pedal steel), a sacred steel gospel group caught rockin’ the House of God Church in Rush, NY. We tagged it on the end of a previous post… Definitely worth a second look: