Couldn’t write much this week. Too busy taking side bets on my March Madness brackets.
When you know as little as I do about college basketball, you have to be fairly resourceful in filling out your brackets. I follow a simple rule: borrow heavily from an expert (in my case, President Obama) while making a few exceptions based on emotion. Last year, I picked my lowly alma mater, Ohio University, to win in the first round. And when the 14th-seeded Bobcats did, people thought I was a basketball genius… that is, until the second round, when all my other emotional favorites tanked. This year, I relied a bit more on the President’s picks. But I think he was slightly distracted by global issues of a non-basketball nature. Next year, I’ll use a more sophisticated approach – a system that ranks the teams based on total merchandising revenue divided by annual recruiting violations.
In the meantime, let’s check out a few vintage videos that our research team has deemed blog-worthy. And in this round, it’s the men vs. the women.
Don’t you love the fact that, back in the Fifties, guys like Big Joe Turner and Bill Haley were rock stars? What are the chances of that happening today? Zero… even if Bill Haley wore assless chaps and had Autotune surgically attached to his vocal cords. Another reason to treasure this video of Big Joe struttin’ his stuff live at The Apollo, ’55. Watch it now before youtube replaces it with a clip of someone’s cat watching TV.
Some of the great Louis Jordan’s videos from the ’40s and ’50s have kind of a minstrel show vibe to them… that eyes-buggin’-out shuckin’ and jivin’ that made Miles Davis vow to never smile in front of an audience. This one is fairly reserved by Jordan standards. Looks like the director wanted to recreate a late-night, backstage jam session. Although I can’t figure out why he decided to trot out the three white chicks at the end of the song.
Here’s another one of those wonderful American Folk Blues Festival videos – this one from 1965 with Big Mama Thornton backed by the legendary Buddy Guy. I totally agree with one of the comments following the video – a sentiment that was reiterated last week on CBS Sunday Morning by the guys who wrote Hound Dog, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller: Why would Elvis screw up something this good?
Two years later, Koko Taylor was filmed during another AFBF tour performing Wang Dang Doodle with Little Walter and Hound Dog Taylor. It’s one of only two live clips I’ve been able to find on youtube featuring Walter (we included the other one in this post). 10,000 videos of cats doing flips, but only two of the world’s greatest blues harmonica player.
In 1977, I’d just landed in Athens, Ohio, to begin my junior year of college at Ohio University. But more important, I started working at a record store uptown – a great opportunity to fill out my collection with plenty of free vinyl.
Unfortunately, it was slim pickings for this unreconstructed blues hound. Guitar-slinger Freddie King had passed away at the end of ’76, and aside from Muddy Waters’ great comeback album “Hard Again” (which earned its title when a first listen gave Muddy a chub in his chinos), there really wasn’t much new stuff to get excited about. So I kept mining the old stuff – mostly on Chess and whatever label John Lee Hooker or Lightnin’ Hopkins decided to sign up with for a few extra bucks.
I really didn’t know much about Kansas City jazz and had yet to discover the many joys of jump blues artists like Buddy Johnson and Louis Jordan. So I was completely floored when I came across the first album by a mighty blues and swing band from Rhode Island called Roomful of Blues, with Duke Robillard on vocals and guitar.
The album was produced by the legendary songwriter Doc Pomus (Save the Last Dance for Me, This Magic Moment, Little Sister, Viva Las Vegas) with able assistance from Joel Dorn, another guy who had already lived the dream – producing more than a few hit records at Atlantic during the late ‘60s and early ‘70s for artists like Roberta Flack and Les McCann.
If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that Pomus and Dorn felt like a couple of love-struck teenagers when they first came across Roomful – a gang of sharp-looking, road-tested hipsters who were completely over the moon for records that rarely made it past the 78 RPM format. Even Count Basie was a fan, calling them “hottest blues band I’ve ever heard” after sitting in with them in ’74.
Maybe the Count was overserved that night. But no question, Roomful of Blues was in a class by itself. At a time when the Sex Pistols were pissing all over Seventies schlock-rock, Roomful of Blues had taken the exact opposite approach – retreating to the hardwood-floored dance halls of the Forties and Fifties to recreate the red, hot and blue sounds of T-Bone Walker, Big Joe Turner and Roy Milton. Red, Hot and Blue
Robillard was the consummate swing-blues guitarist, an old soul who had spent a big chunk of his young 29 years woodshedding with the masters – T-Bone, Lowell Fulson, Buddy Guy, jazz greats like Charlie Christian… Robillard had those and other classic styles down cold. But his soulful voice only added to the timeless feel of that first record, and it was clear that this was Duke’s band. I especially love this rockin’ version of a tune by R&B stroller Chuck Willis (one of three Willis covers on the album): Take It Like A Man
Duke and company also did a wonderful job covering a T-Bone original first recorded back in 1947, during the last of his landmark sessions with the Black & White label. Based on several focus groups I’ve conducted over the years, I can tell you with great certainty that I’m Still In Love With You drives women crazy. Every time I hear a lame version of You Look Wonderful Tonight and You Are So Beautiful and At Last at a wedding party, I wonder why this next tune never makes the cut (especially if the couple has a more complicated relationship than those other songs would imply). And it features some fine sax by guest Scott Hamilton… I’m Still In Love With You
Robillard recorded one more album with Roomful, and it’s every bit as good as the first one. Released in ’79, “Let’s Have a Party” has the same supporting cast – including the very capable Al Copley on piano, sax prodigies Greg Piccolo and Rich Lataille, and swinging drummer John Rossi. As the title and cover suggest, the album is the perfect soundtrack for a booze-fueled house party in some fleabag joint that hasn’t seen a freshly paved road in years. Let’s Have A Party
My favorite moment on the album is the horn-driven climax to Big Joe Turner’s The Chill is On. It makes the point that, unlike many of the retro bands that were part of the ‘90s swing revival – Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, Who’s Your Daddy (OK, I made that last one up) – Roomful understood the power of dynamics… of slowly building the tension in a song or solo to the point where you can’t help but run over to the stereo and crank it well into the red zone: The Chill Is On
You can argue that, creatively, Duke and Roomful didn’t break any new ground. Most of the songs were covers, and they never strayed too much from the original versions. But for me, those first two Roomful of Blues albums had the same impact that many young guitar slingers felt when they first heard Cream play Crossroads – they opened me up to a lot of music I didn’t know existed. Those albums led me to the masters of jump blues, and the seductive sound of Ella Johnson crooning over brother Buddy’s fearsome horns and relentless rhythm section: (Gonna Go) Upside Your Head/Buddy & Ella Johnson
Roomful had a big influence on many blues bands that followed – including the Fabulous Thunderbirds, which used Roomful’s horn section on their “Butt Rockin’” album, and Stevie Ray Vaughan, who followed up on Roomful’s cover of Texas Flood with his own version some six years later.
Duke, today
After leaving Roomful in 1980 for personal reasons, Robillard went on to a fairly successful solo career and even joined the T-Birds for a short spell. He eventually recorded with Bob Dylan and toured with Tom Waits, and remains a sought-after session player.
Roomful of Blues continues to record and perform, having gone through a number of lineups over the years. In fact, some 50 musicians have played with Roomful since it was formed as a four-piece back in 1967 – including blues guitarist Ronnie Earl, T-Birds drummer Fran Christina and the late trombonist Porky Cohen, who played with Tommy Dorsey and Artie Shaw, among others. Today, Rich Lataille is the only remaining member from the original band.
Roomful also rose to the challenge of recording with a few of their idols, mainly Big Joe Turner, Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson and Earl King (I especially like the King album, “Glazed”). The band has earned five Grammy nominations and many more blues awards – but I keep going back to those first two albums with Duke Robillard. That’s a band for the ages.
Didn’t hear enough Duke on guitar? This’ll take care of that.
You might be able to find a few vinyl copies on ebay, but CDs of Roomful’s second album are only available on the band’s web site.
I have more than 21,000 songs on my iPod. And I wrap tin foil around my head to keep out the gamma rays.
Do you think less of me? I’m referring to the iPod, of course. Normal people would find this to be a symptom of OCD. Audiophiles would scoff at the idea of listening to all this music in a highly compressed electronic format. My brother thinks I should be more selective in terms of what I put on my iPod. But my wife likes the fact that hundreds of CDs, records and tapes are now stashed away in the deep recesses of my basement (where I routinely hunt for liner notes to help me with these posts).
One thing about having this many songs on your iPod is that you can put it on shuffle and still feel that sense of discovery. I mean, how many of those tunes could I actually listen to before I dumped them into my library? It’s like tapping into a radio station programmed by a guy with… well, tin foil wrapped around his head.
And that’s the subject of today’s post. No, not mental illness. I thought I’d put the entire contents of my iPod on shuffle and write about what pops up.
This exercise was not audited by the blog authorities. You only have my word that I didn’t screw with the results. As usual, I was surprised by what the little genie in my iPod chose to play. And, as usual, the results reflect the fact that I am completely out of touch with today’s youth culture (Exhibit A: use of term “youth culture”).
But first, let me point out that I typically don’t put my entire iPod on shuffle. It’s simply too dangerous, especially if I’m driving. I once almost drove into oncoming traffic after Coltrane segued into Coldplay, which I’m sure ended up on my music library by accident.
I prefer using playlists – even if they include several hundred songs – and I’ve got some great ones. Drinking songs (see “There Stands the Glass“)… pure, unfiltered honky tonk… post-war jump blues and R&B, including some rare reissues that appeared on CD for about five minutes (see “Jumpin’ the Blues“)… choice cuts from the glory years of Blue Note… playlists devoted to other great labels like Stax, Sun, Fania, Riverside…
I even have my own genres – mainly because I don’t like the ones provided by the record companies. For example, I think Freddie King, Link Wray and Lonnie Mack belong in the same category as Dick Dale. So I created the genre “Surf & Beyond.” Django Reinhardt doesn’t really go with my jazz stuff… he has his own genre. The Black Keys’ “Chulahoma,” G. Love’s “Coast to Coast Motel” and John Hammond’s “Wicked Grin”? Dirty Blues. And, as I’ve already pointed out, R&B ain’t Kool & the Gang. It’s Louis Jordan, Wynonie Harris and Big Joe Turner. So take that, Mister Genre-Impaired, Think-Inside-The-Box Record Man!
But back to the grand experiment. The first tune selected by my iPod is… Strollin’ With Bone, from T-Bone Walker’s “Complete Imperial Recordings.” Whew… damn good start! I’ve always been a big fan of T-Bone, and this is one of his best numbers. T-Bone started out as a street dancer, which helps explain his almost percussive attack along with a completely original sense of time and phrasing. And he had a huge influence on virtually every blues guitarist who followed – especially flamethrowers like Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown and Johnny “Guitar” Watson. Strollin’ With Bone/T-Bone Walker
Next up – honky-tonk hero Dwight Yoakam, from his 2005 comeback of sorts, “Blame the Vain.” This isn’t my favorite cut from the album (the title song is one of Dwight’s best). But there’s a lot to like on “Blame.” Dwight’s singing is less affected than on his first recordings. And his new hot-shit guitarist, Keith Gattis, has plenty of opportunities to show off… like this nasty little riff he uses to bring the song back down to the key of E: Intentional Heartache/Dwight Yoakam
Now the iPod genie picks the great Professor Longhair, the King of New Orleans Piano. This is from the 2-CD set “The Mercury Blues ‘n’ Rhythm Story 1945-55: Southwest Blues” – actually one of four releases in a first-rate overview of Mercury’s landmark R&B recordings. I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a bad cut by Longhair. I can highly recommend the nine that show up on the Mercury collection… as well as Rhino Records’ “’Fess: The Professor Longhair Anthology” and especially “House Party New Orleans Style,” which features two of my favorite guitarists of all time – Gatemouth Brown and Snooks Eaglin. Been Fooling Around/Professor Longhair
Here’s a tune written by Johnny Cash but performed by the Louvin Brothers, who showed up in our recent post on harmony singing. You have to wonder what pit of despair Cash stumbled into to write this one: “Lord have mercy on me was the kneeling drunkard’s plea, and as he knelt there on the ground I know that God in heaven looked down… Bring my darling boy to me was his mother’s dying plea, and as he staggered through the gate alas he came just one day too late.” Give me a few minutes to recover… I’ll be right back. Kneeling Drunkard’s Plea/The Louvin Brothers
We stagger from that one to Hearsay by The Soul Children – a vocal quartet, split evenly across gender lines, that recorded for the Stax label in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Both of the male Soul Children – Norman West and J. Blackfoot – still perform today. This tune sounds oddly reminiscent of Soul Man, which is exactly what Stax songwriters Isaac Hayes and David Porter had in mind… They were hoping to strike gold with a different combination after Sam & Dave slipped away (they remained with Atlantic following a split with Stax in ‘68). You can find Hearsay on a two-disc compilation from 2007 celebrating Stax’s 50th Anniversary. Hearsay/The Soul Children
From Memphis we head up to Chicago – following the same route that Howlin’ Wolf took from Sun to Chess Records back in 1953. A year later he cut the song Forty-Four, one of many interpretations of a blues standard first recorded by Roosevelt Sykes in 1929. The original is more curious than menacing, with “44” used to reference a gun, a train and a cabin. Wolf, on the other hand, has one thing in mind, and that’s pumping lead into the poor sonofabitch who messed with his woman. Essential Chicago blues – with Hubert Sumlin and Jody Williams on guitars, Otis Spann on piano, Willie Dixon on bass and Earl Phillips on drums. Forty-Four/Howlin’ Wolf
And why wouldn’t you follow up that one with the dazzling sax of Sonny Stitt, playing the George and Ira Gershwin favorite Nice Work If You Can Get It? Yeah, I’m starting to get a little whiplash too. But at least this one’s by a master like Stitt, and not Sting (thankfully, I have a very effective “Sting-B-Gone” filter installed on my iPod). This version is from the 3-CD box set “Stitt’s Bits: The Bebop Recordings, 1949-1952”… with liner notes by Cleveland’s Harvey Pekar (“American Splendor”). Nothing groundbreaking on it, so don’t run out and get it – unless you happen to like beautifully executed jazz by one of the greatest sax players to ever roam the planet. Nice Work If You Can Get It/Sonny Stitt
Talk about whiplash… now we’re back in the honky tonks, this time with California cowgirl Heather Myles. I love the collection this song is from: “Rum and Rodeo,” which pulls select cuts from Heather’s first two albums on the Hightone label. She’s got a lot of that hard, Bakersfield sound in her… I’m sure she’s a woman you wouldn’t want to trifle with. An American original with loads of talent – playing music that’s authentic, honest and heartfelt. Wonder why she never caught on in Nashville? The Other Side Of Town/Heather Myles
Now let’s go down to the Crawdad Hole with Big Joe Turner. This tune is from “Big, Bad & Blue,” an essential overview of Big Joe’s storied career as the Boss of the Blues. You could argue that his glory days were long gone by the time he recorded this number in 1983 with R&B revivalists Roomful of Blues. But I would’ve paid good money to hear Big Joe sing along with the organ player at the ballpark. Now strap me in a time machine and take me back to Kansas City, 1935, Big Joe shoutin’ the blues over the boogie-woogie piano of the great Pete Johnson. Crawdad Hole/Big Joe Turner
We should’ve stopped right there… but I let my iPod play one more song, and up pops Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye. Actually, once you get past the crappy production, it’s a pretty damn good song. In fact, I’m not sure if anyone has ever celebrated the joys of getting it on with as much passion as Mr. Gaye. Well, maybe R. Kelly… but the only healing R. has in mind involves Feelin’ On Yo Booty (this is the same guy who recorded Heaven, I Need A Hug??). Come back, Marvin – we need you now more than ever…
R.I.P., Harvey… On the same morning I pushed the button on this one, Harvey Pekar passed away. Here’s a nice tribute in today’s New York Times. I found it interesting that Pekar might have been banned from the Letterman Show for lashing out against General Electric, then Letterman himself started trash-talking GE toward the end of his tenure at NBC. Here’s a clip of Harvey’s tirade… he’ll be missed (now I feel silly for wasting even a sliver of bandwidth on LeBron).
