Rubber City Review

The Great Flood of 1927

So I’m pondering my next post and it dawns on me, some of my favorite songs are about rivers. Or, as Mr. Springsteen would put it, The River. That murky, mythological force that keeps drawing us down for purposes both sanctified (such as baptism) and sinful (e.g. killing your baby).

Charlie Patton

Here’s one that falls under the “bad things happen by the river” category. Recorded in 1929 by legendary bluesman Charlie Patton, High Water Everywhere chronicles the Great Mississippi Flood that occurred two years prior. Consider modern-day floods like the one that overcame much of Nashville in 2010, or several more in recent years that have plagued towns along the Mississippi River. The Great Flood of 1927 topped them all – taking 246 lives and causing more than $400 million in damages (probably the combined value of virtually every home and business within miles of the river). Patton’s lyrics are gut-wrenching: “It was 50 men and children come to sink and drown; Oh Lordy, women and grown men drown… Oh, women and children sinkin’ down Lord have mercy.” The song obviously had a big impact on Bob Dylan, who paid tribute to it with High Water (For Charlie Patton), recorded in 2001. High Water Everywhere Pt. 1

I’m sure you’re familiar with Johnny Cash’s cool cover of a tune originally performed by Australian singer Lucky Starr: I’ve Been Everywhere. You know… Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota, Buffalo, Toronto, etc. etc. (Lucky used Australian locales in the original). Well, it wasn’t the first travelogue song tackled by the Man in Black. He wrote a great one back in ’58 that he recorded that same year for Sam Phillips’ Sun label. Instead of highways and byways, it takes us down a veritable river of heartbreak (the Big Muddy, of course). Now I love Cash’s original, but I think I’m a little partial to a later version done by Texas honky-tonk hero Delbert McClinton – maybe because it borrows from the backwoods funk of Tony Joe White instead of the more familiar chunk of the Tennessee Three. I spliced them together on this one… you be the judge. Big River (Johnny Cash/Delbert McClinton)

Allison Krauss almost fooled me into thinking she’d written an American classic when I first heard her moving rendition of Down to the River to Pray (from the soundtrack to the movie “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”). Turns out it’s an old traditional that dates back to the 19^th Century – and, like most great traditionals, it was sung by African-American slaves in the fields. In fact, the tune appeared in an 1867 slave songbook as The Good Old Way, and some ethnomusicologists believe the song might have its roots in Native American culture. In more recent years, it’s been covered by a number of artists who have used various titles and lyrics that were loosely based on the original. Here’s a version that the Appalachian singer and flatpicker Doc Watson recorded in 1966 for his Vanguard album “Home Again!”: Down in the Valley to Pray

Getting back to more nefarious riverside activities, Neil Young wrote this dark little ditty for his classic 1969 album with Crazy Horse, “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere.” And the tune’s basic sentiment is summarized in one startling line: “Down by the river, I shot my baby.” Why did he shoot her? Who the hell knows. I guess she decided not to take his side or, for that matter, take him for a ride. He seems to feel pretty bad about this senseless act of violence, and I’m sure he got his comeuppance (if you conveniently ignore worldwide sales of well over one million for Nowhere and Young’s continued success as a solo artist of utmost integrity). Apparently, Young wrote this tune when he was at home in bed suffering from a severe fever. Maybe the same malady inspired his brilliant, one-note solo in one of my all-time favorite tunes, Cinnamon Girl. Down by the River

Have to hand it to Al Green for somehow combining the sanctified and sinful in one river-related song. Some of you might be more familiar with The Talking Heads’ version. Let me respond to that by borrowing a line from Donnie Brasco: fuggedaboudit. But I’ll give David Byrne credit for recognizing the inherent power of a song that, in his words, “combines teenage lust with baptism – not equates, you understand, but throws them in the same stew, at least. A potend blend.” (The Independent, Feb. ’94.) Syl Johnson came up with a nasty version of Green’s original (using the same musicians and producer, Willie Mitchell), and Delbert did a fine job with it too. But no one does that dance between the sacred and profane better than Mr. Green. Take Me to the River

J.J. Cale seems to have a real affinity for the river song. River Runs Deep. Mississippi River. River Boat Song. And this next one, Stone River, which stands out as a true rarity in the Cale catalog – an environmental protest song. “They bottled up and dammed it, choked it up and jammed it, killed the life around it and stole it like a bandit.” I think Merle Haggard wrote one of these recently too, but being pissed off comes easily to Merle. It’s nice to hear J.J. slip out of his comfort zone and get worked up about something for a change! Stone River

The river often is used as a metaphor for an obstacle or challenge, and reggae singer Jimmy Cliff works that image beautifully in this next song. Speaking of water metaphors, the tune can be found on one of my desert-island albums, the soundtrack to the gritty Jamaican gangster movie “The Harder They Come.” I wore through the original release from ’72… couldn’t get enough of Jamaican treasures like Rivers of Babylon by The Melodians, Sweet and Dandy by The Maytals, Johnny Too Bad by The Slickers and no less than four classics by Cliff. So I jumped at the opportunity to pick up the two-CD “Deluxe Edition” released in 2003 that includes 18 more reggae essentials (I often play it in the dead of winter as an act of extreme denial). Actually, Many Rivers to Cross isn’t a reggae song at all – it’s more of a simple, plaintive soul tune with strong gospel overtones. And it’s easily one of the most beautiful songs to come from Jamaica… or anywhere for that matter. Many Rivers to Cross

The sound of the swamp is in good hands with bayou bluesman Tab Benoit. He might be standing on the bank, but it sounds to me like he’s getting sucked right into some dark, dirty backwater. It’s from his ’99 album of the same name. For my money, it’s about as good as contemporary blues gets. Check here for Tab’s upcoming gigs and info on his new album that drops on April 3 – “Legacy: The Best of Tab Benoit.” I have a fair amount of Tab in my own collection, so I’m hoping the new release unearths a few lost nuggets for my listening pleasure. Standing on the Bank

Let’s close on a high note with the gospel sound of my favorite harmony singers, The Louvin Brothers. Another old traditional, another river to wash our sins away… Hopefully Neil Young isn’t upstream plotting another senseless act of violence. The River of Jordan

OK, one more… A masterful river song written and performed by French roots-rocker Don Cavalli. We featured it here, but this post practically begs for its return. I like how the videographer creates this sense of foreboding without taking us to an actual river. Why screw up a good metaphor?

Another band from Akron makes it big… “The Blues Snob” is on record as liking this song and this video (should Dan & Pat be worried that they’re getting namechecked for their coolness?).

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 50^th 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).

The Stanley Brothers: Ralph and Carter

I come from a big family of harmony singers. Myself, I can barely sing in unison… with Autotune. When my sister Caroline and I accidentally ended up at the same college for a year, she sat me down for hours on end and tried to teach me the harmonies to what seemed like the entire Emmylou Harris songbook. I failed miserably.

When we got together for family gatherings, my brothers and sisters would work out intricate harmonies to popular bluegrass songs. One tune in particular, Fox on the Run, required an extra voice… it had one of those staggered, layered harmonies, just like the Three Stooges used to do (“hello, hello, hello… goodbye”!). I’d always bring everything to a screeching halt by screwing up my big moment – I think it was the fourth “like a fox.” Many laughs at my expense.

But I rolled with it… mainly because we didn’t try to tackle that song until later in the evening, when just getting up from the couch qualified as an amusing activity. Besides, I’m perfectly happy sitting back and listening – because there are few things more sublime than the sound of clear, natural voices, locked together in harmony.

I think most of this need to sing came from my Dad’s side of the family and particularly his mother Sarah (Jahant). In his autobiography “The Time of My Life,” the late philosopher Willard Van Orman Quine – my Dad’s first cousin and guitarist Robert Quine’s uncle – describes what it was like to hang with his relatives who grew up in the shadows of Akron’s rubber factories:

“Our two subfamilies converged just once a year, after Christmas, midway at my grandfather’s house. With Grandpa and Aunt Bess we made twelve. Aunt Sarah would play the old treadle organ and Uncle Harry and my cousins would sing. I thought it admirable, and still do. There was no singing at our house. My mother played the piano occasionally and my brother and I were given lessons in the violin and mandolin respectively, but somehow it was embarrassing to sing.” Oddly enough, W.V. loved the harmonies of The Everly Brothers and at one party made my brothers Jack and James serenade him with a few of the Everlys’ hits.

There’s no mystery to why so much great harmony singing comes from the bluegrass tradition. Is there any other form of music as communal and democratic as bluegrass? OK, maybe African drumming, or the barbershop quartet. But let’s keep the focus on the human voice in its natural state (my apologies to you glee-clubbers and straw-hatters out there). And as much as I love gospel music, it approaches harmony more from the blending of big vocal sections, as opposed to two- or three-part singing.

Of course, the iconic bluegrass image is four or five musicians, straining to sing into the same mic, often with their instruments at their sides. So I guess we can thank technological limitations – or maybe a reluctance to spend a few precious bucks on an extra mic or two – for all the hard work that these musicians put into creating amazing harmonies with strong, distinct and soulful voices.

I’ve asked my brothers and sisters to give us a few of their favorite examples of harmony vocals. But first, a few thoughts on what it means to sing in harmony…

“When singing harmony, I think it’s helpful to narrow your voice a little to help it blend and, if you have a vibrato, lose it,” says James. “There are a lot of great harmony singers you wouldn’t necessarily want to listen to all night if they were singing alone. Also, a little dissonance is a beautiful thing.” Here’s one of James’ favorites – Tragic Romance, by The Stanley Brothers: Tragic Romance/The Stanley Brothers

“Great two-part harmonies can stand on their own as melodies,” says Caroline. “Uninspired harmonies tend to hang out on the thirds or fifths and follow the melody around like a shadow. Melodic harmonies, on the other hand, will stay close, open up, come back — interweave with the melody.” A good example is Doc Watson’s Your Long Journey (covered by Robert Plant and Alison Krauss on their Grammy-winning album “Raising Sand”): Your Long Journey/The Doc Watson Family

Jack offers some basic, straightforward advice: “Hit the note and make it ring… and pay attention to the phrasing – which was something that acts like Simon and Garfunkel and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young obviously worked very hard at.”

As an example of great harmony singing, Sister Mary points to alternative country favorites Buddy and Julie Miller: “The thing about Julie Miller is the timbre of her voice, which is really extraordinary. She makes the normal country harmonies seem special.” Music critic Thom Jurek calls them “the most important duet in country-rock since Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris.” Here’s the more rockin’ side of Buddy and Julie: You Make My Heart Beat Too Fast/Buddy and Julie Miller

Speaking of Emmylou and Gram, Caroline loves virtually everything they sang together, but especially this one from 1973’s “Grievous Angel.” In fact, all of us picked at least one song featuring Emmylou, which places her in the newly formed RCR Harmony Hall of Fame. Emmylou went on to a successful solo career post-Gram, staying true to their legacy by recording with great vocalists like Jonathan Edwards and Ricky Skaggs… Love Hurts/Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris

Jack has a weakness for bluegrass gospel – which probably offers more outstanding examples of harmony singing than any other sub-genre of music. The Stanley Brothers, The Louvin Brothers, Bill Monroe, Jim & Jesse, The Osborne Brothers… They all drew from a big repertoire of gospel songs that they would play at gigs that didn’t involve honky tonks and heavy drinking. Jack can sing and play just about all of them, usually with James, Mary and Caroline adding some well-placed harmonies. Here’s one of Jack’s favorites – Lord Protect My Soul, by Bill Monroe and his Bluegrass Boys. “Monroe’s vocal on this one defines the ‘high lonesome sound,’” Jack adds… Lord Protect My Soul/Bill Monroe & His Bluegrass Boys

Just to show that it ain’t all bluegrass, James singles out Bring It On Home To Me – a soul classic that blends the incomparable voices of Sam Cooke and Lou Rawls. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame named it one of “500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll.” This song gets back to Caroline’s point: Both parts would clearly stand on their own as great melodies. And the contrast between Cooke’s silky soul and Rawl’s deep, rich voice only makes it better. Bring It On Home To Me/Sam Cooke with Lou Rawls

In rock, the gold standard remains The Beatles, followed closely by The Beach Boys. But since I live in a landlocked community devoid of sunlight for much of the year, I’ll stick with The Beatles. We could argue endlessly about which song best captures the harmonic convergence of John and Paul. I’ll just throw this one in so we can move on… It proves that harmonies sound cool even when one person (in this case, Paul) only sings one note: Please Please Me/The Beatles

Former hippie that she is, Mary can’t resist the intricate harmonies on Helplessly Hoping by Crosby, Stills and Nash. And, getting back to Jack’s comment, the phrasing in this song is just as essential as the harmonies. You don’t hear this kind of singing anymore. Hell, Crosby, Stills and Nash don’t even sing like this anymore. Time to bring back the bold scent of patchouli mixed with bad weed… Helplessly Hoping/Crosby, Stills & Nash

As Caroline and I talked about great harmonies outside of the bluegrass tradition, we both honed right in on one of our favorite musical acts – Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks. Part cowgirl, part Andrews Sisters, and certainly a product of the Sixties underground aesthetic, the Hot Licks’ harmonies are simply timeless. I’ve worn out several copies of “Striking It Rich” over the years… When is some enterprising music exec going to step up and give Dan Hicks’ early Blue Thumb recordings the “deluxe remastered” treatment they deserve? You Got To Believe/Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks

Jack believes no discussion of harmony is complete without mention of Charlie and Ira Louvin. “A lot of bluegrass, country and pop artists were inspired by the Louvins, including The Everly Brothers,” Jack said. Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris, The Byrds, Simon & Garfunkel and a whole slew of contemporary country performers owe a huge debt to the masters of “close harmony.” Here’s a good example, a country hit for the Louvins in 1956: You’re Running Wild/The Louvin Brothers

Obviously, Mary’s son Dan Auerbach grew up surrounded by a lot of bluegrass and harmony singing. Although he’s better known for some of the heaviest riffs in modern rock, he remains a big fan of family duets – especially The Stanley Brothers and The Everly Brothers.  Like the rest of us, Dan also loves the harmony singing of Gillian Welch and her long-time musical foil, David Rawlings.

Although she grew up in West L.A., Welch couldn’t get enough of traditional family acts like The Stanley Brothers and The Carter Family. And you couldn’t find better accompaniment for her stunning, unadorned voice than Rawlings, who seems to take harmony singing – and guitar playing – to a whole new level. Here’s the gorgeous number that opened her 1996 debut, “Revival.” Orphan Girl/Gillian Welch with David Rawlings

Nephew Dan and Brother James put on a clinic… Dan and James keep the family harmony tradition alive – from Dan’s solo album “Keep It Hid.” This was filmed at Dan’s home studio in Akron, Easy Eye.