Rubber City Review

Kevin and Tim tag-team on this piece about an American classic that still gets a lot of action some 50 years after it first hit the scene.

It can sneak up on you: that warm, soothing yet crunchy keyboard from the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. That would be the unmistakable tone of the greatest of all the electric pianos: The Fender Rhodes.

But first, a definition… Invented by Harold Rhodes in the 1940s, the instrument is a bastard offspring of the celeste and the electric guitar. Since we’re inherently lazy, we’ll let the good folks at “wordIQ” take it from here: “The action is similar to that of a conventional piano, but whereas in a conventional piano each key causes felt-covered hammers to strike a set of strings, in a Rhodes piano they strike a tuning fork-like construction to sound the note. The tuning forks themselves are ‘unbalanced’ or asymmetrical: one arm consists of a short, stiff metal rod (essentially a stiff wire) called a ‘tine’ which is struck by the hammer, and the other arm is a tuned resonator resembling a piece of metal bar stock, sized to sound the appropriate note. The actual sounded note is too soft to be practical, so each tine vibrates in front of an electric-guitar-style magnetic pickup. The pickup’s output is fed to an amplifier which can be adjusted to produce the desired volume.” Got it? Class dismissed.

Basically, it’s an electronic keyboard, but the workings are purely mechanical, like each key physically ringing a bell. So you get that natural, clicking sound – like the earthy scratch and itch of a great old electric guitar. Then add a vintage tube amplifier for that warm, organic sound that just makes people feel good, almost instantly.

The Fender company – source of the Telecaster, Stratocaster, Super Reverb amp and other great wonders of the modern world – began manufacturing the instrument in 1959 under an agreement with Harold Rhodes. And jazz pianist Bill Evans was an “early adopter,” later pairing it with his ever-present Steinway on his 1970 release, “From Left to Right.” In his interpretation of What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life, his left hand caresses the precise, time-honored acoustic grand piano keys, while the right dances across the Rhodes – a musical peace summit between clashing generations. What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life/Bill Evans

Hank Jones, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and Joe Zawinul also signed on, each adding the Rhodes to their arsenals, each heading in new directions. With Return to Forever, Corea worked the keys as foundation, lead and atmosphere. But his most influential recordings on the Rhodes were with Miles Davis’ first all-electric bands. Here Corea states one of the main themes to a moody original by Zawinul that gave the title to Miles’ 1969 release, “In a Silent Way”: In A Silent Way/Miles Davis

Zawinul plays organ on that cut – the same instrument that he used to drive another original that became an unlikely hit for Cannonball Adderley in ’66, Mercy, Mercy, Mercy (Zawinul also struck gold with Weather Report when his song Birdland became one of the most recognizable of the ‘70s). But just like Corea, he cut his jazz-rock teeth playing with Miles. On this next cut, you can hear the two-Rhodes attack of Zawinul and Corea wreaking havoc on a funky workout from Miles’ classic “Bitches Brew” (Zawinul is in the left channel, Corea the right)… Miles Runs the Voodoo Down/Miles Davis

That great Rhodes sound wasn’t confined to smoky jazz clubs and studios. Motown’s keyboard titan and Funk Brother, Earl Van Dyke, added the Rhodes to hit songs with Marvin Gaye, The Temptations and Smokey Robinson. And you couldn’t miss the Rhodes sound in 1969 – turn on any radio and you’d hear Billy Preston sitting in on keys with that little band from Liverpool: Get Back/The Beatles

Down in Memphis, Booker T. Jones spent most of his working hours at the Hammond B-3, but in 1971 his sister-in-law Rita Coolidge got him to hit the Rhodes on a song he co-wrote, Born Under a Bad Sign – from her self-titled debut solo effort. Nice backing band, too: Clarence White and Ry Cooder on guitars, Jim Keltner on drums: Rita Coolidge

The Rhodes also played a supporting role on many outstanding soul singles recorded during the Seventies. This next cut is from “Cheatin’ Soul and the Southern Dream of Freedom,” a first-rate collection of country-soul classics pulled together by the zealots who run the Trikont label in Germany. The artist: Ann Sexton, who also served up a song that became a “Northern Soul” hit for the equally zealous Brits – You’ve Been Gone Too Long. But getting back to the Rhodes, we like how it sets the perfect mood as Sexton tells a cheatin’ woman where to get off. Rapper GZA dug it so much, he sampled it on his song Living In The World Today… I’m His Wife (You’re Just A Friend)/Ann Sexton

Barron (striped shirt) in front of Butter

And let’s not forget the blues… We featured this next cut on a recent post about “Born in Chicago” blues-harpist Paul Butterfield. But this time we’ll focus on the song’s Rhodes solo, played by New Orleans singer and keyboard legend Ronnie Barron. Word has it that Barron was a major influence on Dr. John aka Mac Rebennack. We’ll defer to the liner notes from the good doctor’s “Gris-Gris”: “Ever since coming to L.A., Rebennack had hoped to make a concept album of sorts melding various strains of New Orleans music behind a frontman named Dr. John. Mac actually wanted New Orleans singer Ronnie Barron to be the Dr. John character, but when Barron was (fortunately) unavailable, Rebennack took on the Dr. John mantle himself.” Nobody’s Fault but Mine seems to share some of that same voodoo vibe… Nobody’s Fault But Mine/Paul Butterfield’s Better Days

Here’s another Rhodes scholar from the much-maligned Seventies. We didn’t buy Jeff Beck’s all-instrumental album “Blow By Blow” for the keyboard playing (did anyone?), but Max Middleton sure nails it on his composition, Freeway Jam. Great to hear all the instruments up in the mix… anyone still do that these days? Freeway Jam/Jeff Beck

Norah Jones, (the non-Jeff Beck) Beck, The Roots, Don Fagen’s little combo and many other contemporary artists continue to employ these battered, old, vintage warhorse Fender Rhodes in their live and studio work. (Radiohead’s Morning Bell from “Kid A,” for example, is an electric keyboard throwback with a modern sensibility.) But no other current band works the Rhodes harder than Nashville’s junkyard brawling duo, Black Diamond Heavies (and I think we’ve found the demon seed of Captain Beefheart and Marianne Faithfull). Here’s a live version of a tune from “A Touch of Someone Else’s Class,” produced and recorded in West Akron by RCR correspondent and part-time musician Dan Auerbach:

Sunday morning – a time of worship. And for me, that worship involves a cup of joe, the Sunday Times, and a playlist of soul-soothing music. (Hey, I did 12 years of hard time at parochial schools, so you Bible-thumpers can just back off right now!)

Now this sacred songlist is about as close as I get to much-maligned labels like Easy Listening or New Age. But don’t expect Mantovani, Enya, Celtic Women or Windham Hill. I’m trying to wake up, not go back to sleep.

On the other hand, I rarely play gospel music on Sunday morning. That’s because the best gospel music, in terms of energy level, is right up there with Metallica or the Jonas Brothers. It’s really something that should be experienced in person – preferably in an inner-city, African-American, “make you sweat, sway and swoon” church (I’m still searching for the right one, honest… I swear). But as an appropriate soundtrack for Arts and Leisure, it just doesn’t fit the bill.

Then again, Sunday morning music should not be without a certain aura of spirituality, as subtle as it might be. I’m thinking Coltrane-like spirituality, as embodied by both John and Alice. Or even the worshipful sound of Bill Evans or Ahmad Jamal on piano. And let’s stick with instrumentals for now. I’m going after an ecumenical vibe. Lyrics, like the Good Book itself, are subject to different interpretations and endless debate.

Someone suggested I should mix it up with a little Sanskrit chanting. So I gave it a shot. But I guess I’m a little too American to take that leap. Repetition’s cool when you hear it in a song by John Lee Hooker or Lightnin’ Hopkins, but kind of annoying when delivered by your yoga teacher. Besides, chanting reminds me of the Hare Krishnas I spent much of the ‘70s avoiding at airports.

With that off my chest, I’ll also admit that one of my favorite Sunday-morning albums is a musical love letter to Eastern culture and religion. John McLaughlin gained fame and notoriety with his fiery electric guitar on Miles Davis’ landmark “Bitches Brew” album (definitely not Sunday morning music). But his solo album from 1970, “My Goals Beyond,” is something altogether different. The songs were assembled as a tribute to his Indian guru Sri Chinmoy, and McLaughlin plays stunning acoustic guitar throughout in settings that range from single-note meditations to big, droning passages with soprano sax, violin, tablas and drums. It may be a product of its time, but “My Goals Beyond” is a timeless piece of work with moments of great beauty – like this one from his original composition, Follow Your Heart: Follow Your Heart/John McLaughlin

If Alice Coltrane taught us anything, it’s that spiritual music isn’t necessarily “happy” music – it can be dark and dangerous but still uplifting. And few songs prove this point better than the next one. This groove sounds ancient to me, as old as any root that feeds the blues. The bass player is jazz legend Ron Carter – another Miles Davis alumnus – and he’s laying down one of the great bottom lines of all time. Then there’s Alice, playing an instrument normally associated with heavenly bliss. But this harp sounds as deep as the dark soil beneath us. It’s powerful stuff, haunting yet hopeful… from a master who left us in 2007. Given the huge shadow cast by her husband, she remains one of the jazz world’s most underrated artists. Huntington Ashram Monastery/Alice Coltrane

With due respect to Alice, let’s move on to a song by John Coltrane – and so many great ones to choose from. In an earlier post, I confessed that I tend to bail out of Coltrane’s more manic, atonal pieces. Some would argue that those performances are his crowning achievements. I prefer the more melodic vibe of his Atlantic recordings, as well as his earlier albums for the Impulse! label, like “Crescent” and “Coltrane.” Although a jazz standard, this next song – named after Coltrane’s first wife, Juanita Naima Grubb – seems to have the more universal appeal of a simple prayer. Naima/John Coltrane

Jazz producer Orrin Keepnews clearly knew good Sunday music when he heard it, which is why he booked New York City’s fabled Village Vanguard on Sunday, June 25, 1961, to record five separate performances by pianist Bill Evans and his trio. Two years prior, Evans played a key role in what many critics consider to be the greatest jazz album ever recorded, Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue” (are you noticing a theme here?). Davis loved Evan’s quietly expressive playing, and the two shared an appreciation of the empty spaces in music that can create far more drama than a flurry of notes. You can hear the same, sparse delivery on “Sunday at the Village Vanguard,” as well as near-telepathic interplay among Evans and his band mates, bassist Scott LaFaro and drummer Paul Motian. Improvisational music of the highest order – appropriate for any day of the week: Gloria’s Step (Take 2)/Bill Evans Trio

I can’t resist including another Miles Davis favorite, pianist Ahmad Jamal… and instead of speaking for Miles again, I’ll just share the man’s own words (from “Miles: The Autobiography”): “I had gone to hear him once when I was out that way (Chicago, where the Pittsburgh native had a steady gig at the Pershing Hotel) and he knocked me out with his concept of space, his lightness of touch, his understatement, and the way he phrased notes and chords and passages… I loved his lyricism on piano, the way he played and the spacing he used in the ensemble voicing of his groups. I have always thought Ahmad Jamal was a great piano player who never got the recognition he deserved.” Jamal’s still performing and is scheduled to appear at the Newport Jazz Festival on August 7. I usually start my Sundays with this gorgeous cut from “The Awakening”: Patterns/Ahmad Jamal

Guitarist Larry Coryell is commonly associated with the band Eleventh House, which played that dreaded form of music called jazz fusion that many of us listened to back in the day. I can’t bear to hear five notes of the stuff today (which, of course, takes less than a millisecond for your typical jazz fusion band to play). But Coryell put out a fine acoustic/electric album in ’74, “The Restful Mind” – and it serves as a nice companion piece to McLaughlin’s “My Goal’s Beyond.” It has one of those “seagull and sunset” covers with classic Seventies typography… something you’d typically see on the front of a self-help book. But the music inside tells a different story, drawing from sources as diverse as French composer Maurice Ravel, American songwriter Jimmy Webb, and the Eastern-influenced band Oregon, which backs Coryell on “Mind.” Trust me, it all somehow works. Julie La Belle/Larry Coryell

The paper’s read (mostly skimmed)… coffee’s cold… time to walk the dog and pick up whatever bottles landed in my yard last night. But I’m still feeling the spirit as I listen to Astral Traveling, a cut from Pharoah Sanders’ 1971 release, “Thembi.” And although I’ve never experienced myself outside of this mortal coil, I get the sense that anything’s possible as I drift away on the heavenly sound of Pharoah’s soprano sax. My dog sits and stares, but with an ear cocked to the speaker… maybe she’s feeling the spirit too. Astral Traveling/Pharoah Sanders

All that talk about Miles and nothing to show for it. I’ll fix that. Miles Davis with John Coltrane – 4/2/59, CBS Studio 61, New York City. That sound, that look… Forget about his screwed-up personal life. The man clearly had tapped into something eternal.