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.
The election’s over, so it’s time to drink. Heavily.
Which brings us to the second installment of our tribute to the Great American Drinking Song. And we’re using the same basic guidelines that applied to the first post:
No rugby songs or sea chanteys
Primary sources: honky tonk, R&B and blues
Extra points for referencing alcohol consumption in song title
Lyrics should convey hopelessness, denial and/or complete lack of higher cognitive activity
Accompanying music should be oddly uplifting to discourage impaired listener from blowing his/her brains out
So there you have it – five basic tips on how to write an effective drinking song. It also helps if the songwriter has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like to spend several hours in a dimly lit honky tonk, staring at a bubbling beer sign while listening to the finest examples of first-generation drinking songs by the likes of Hank Williams, George Jones, Wynonie Harris, Dinah Washington, Louis Jordan, Merle Haggard, Amos Milburn… Oh, and downing crappy cocktails that somehow taste better when the bartender’s yelling “Last Call!”
Of course, I’m assuming you have the time, inclination and energy to actually write a drinking song. If you’re like me, you’d rather have someone else go through all the trouble of coming up with these hard-earned odes to a life well wasted.
First up, a tune by the great blues piano player Memphis Slim. Apparently, Slim ended up with the beer-drinkinest woman in all of Chicago. We’re talking $45 of beer in one sitting – and that was back in 1940! Now, either this woman had her hand in Slim’s back pocket or he was slammin’ a few himself. Regardless, I don’t think this was a long-term relationship for Slim, who went on to record with numerous labels – Decca, King, Mercury, Vee-Jay and Folkways, to name a few – before making a permanent move to Paris (France, that is) in ’62. And that’s where he lived the good life for the next 26 years, far from the beer-drinking floozy who inspired this tune… Beer Drinking Woman/Memphis Slim
Guitar slinger Goree Carter came across a similar woman down in Texas. But instead of dumping her at the first opportunity, Goree realized that he loved his baby no matter how much she had to drink. I especially like the drunken rumba rhythm on this tune… Sounds like something the band decided to screw around with late at night, when they were sick of doing shuffles and just sober enough to play while sitting down. Goree’s guitar is just right, with enough grit and grease to give fellow Texan Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown a run for his money. You can find both of them on an outstanding collection we featured a few posts back – “Boogie Uproar: Texas Blues and R&B, 1947-1954.” Drunk or Sober/Goree Carter
Now let’s flip this around and look at it from a woman’s perspective. Most women know that a man who’s had too much to drink occupies roughly the same spot on the evolutionary scale as a brain-damaged chimp. And we know what chimps do when they’re pissed off. That’s why God made it difficult for drunks to walk upright (and God help the drunk who passes out in front of a woman done wrong). It’s safe to say Dinah Washington dealt with more than a few over-consumptive men during her turbulent life – married eight times, divorced seven, and many lovers on the side. And she gave as good as she got, as evidenced by this nasty couplet: “He’s a mess when he gets his head full of junk… and every time I kiss him he’s smellin’ like a skunk.” I’m guessing this next one was an “answer song” to Juice Head Baby by Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson. Another interesting side note: It features a young John Coltrane on sax. Juice Head Man of Mine/Dinah Washington
But just like the sad sack featured in that song, a hard-drinking woman can be a victim of her own doing. Take Helen Humes, for example. She was sitting in the corner just as high as she could be – so drunk, in fact, that the cops didn’t even notice her when they raided the joint. So if there’s a bright side to this cautionary tale, it’s probably this: “When in doubt, just pass out.” Hardly the stuff of self-help books… but it worked for Helen. They Raided the Joint/Helen Humes
Speaking of self-help messages, Merle Haggard came up with a great one on this next song. Merle’s baby just left him, so instead of wallowing in self-pity, he decided to act like a man and head straight to the nearest bar. Of course, the main reason to listen to this song is the masterful guitar of James Burton, who had just replaced another legend of hard twang, Merle’s original string-bender Roy Nichols. Burton joined Merle and band in ’66 to record “I’m a Lonesome Fugitive,” which included the title cut, Life in Prison, this next tune and nine other prime examples of the classic Bakersfield Sound (even though the album was recorded at Capitol Studios in Hollywood). Merle’s ‘60s albums inspired countless cowpunks and modern-day honky tonkers – from Dwight Yoakam and Steve Earle to Gretchen Wilson and Jamey Johnson. Long Live The Hag… Drink Up & Be Somebody/Merle Haggard
As long as we’re doing the tonk thing, might as well walk around to the other side of the bar and see what it’s like to serve these losers. Even though George Jones spent much of his life at the mercy of the man serving drinks, he probably had a good idea of what it must’ve been like staring into the glassy, vacant eyes of hard-core drinkers for hours on end. So here’s George’s sad take on the plight of the bartender… Bartender’s Blues/George Jones
And while we’re at it, let’s look at what happens when the bartender has a little too much to drink himself. This guy ended up on the wrong side of the bar, cavorting with the very people he’s supposed to babysit. A great tune from the unfortunately named Asleep at the Wheel: Tonight the Bartender is on the Wrong Side of the Bar/Asleep at the Wheel
Bars don’t just cater to cognitively impaired rednecks. Great thinkers like to drink too… Scholars and poets like Dylan Thomas and Charles Bukowski. Not to mention the notable barroom bard Wynonie Harris. Before you go searching for the collected writings of Mr. Harris, understand that most of his poetry remains criminally ignored and undocumented. But RCR did manage to find this recorded evidence of his urbane and erudite witticisms – a loving tribute to the timeless vessel from which all wisdom flows. Quiet Whiskey/Wynonie Harris
No matter how much you try to dress them up with ferns, plasma screens and Purell dispensers, most bars remain highly democratic institutions. And none of them are immune to the occasional fight breaking out. Especially when O’Reilly’s at the bar. Must’ve been some character Dan Hicks came across when he was playing Bay Area clubs back in the late ‘60s with his band the Hot Licks. You can’t really blame O’Reilly for wanting to smash someone’s face – the guy stole his beer, for chrissakes! And assaulting a beer thief is a pardonable offense here in the Rubber City. O’Reilly at the Bar/Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks
Well, it’s closing time for this here missive – and obviously I’ve had a little too much to drink myself… so I’ll leave you with this six-pack to go:
A guy who plays a “guit-steel” double neck guitar is bound to apply the same dualism to other things, like party lights… Party Lights/Junior Brown
In our last drinking song post, we featured Ted Hawkins’ powerful version of There Stands The Glass. This one’s just as good… Happy Hour/Ted Hawkins
Sometimes, a great drinking song is simply a tribute to one’s favorite brand of booze (with Keith Richards on guitar and background vocals)… Tanqueray/Johnnie Johnson
I’m not from Texas, but I can’t resist a lyric like this: “Too much rum and rodeo got the better of your cowboy soul.” Rum & Rodeo/Heather Myles
Hank Thompson recorded the original back in ’52, but I think I prefer this version by rockabilly wildman Charlie Feathers… Wild Side of Life/Charlie Feathers
Here’s visual evidence that Dinah Washington knew how to deal with a man gone astray…
Think of the greats in any musical genre, and you’re usually thinking of a signature sound that gives the artist a distinct presence or personality.
In jazz, it’s the difference between Dexter Gordon’s sly, behind-the-beat phrasing and John Coltrane’s timeless, searching wail. In blues, T-Bone Walker and Magic Sam shared a common language but still seemed worlds apart, and I’d have a hard time picturing them together on the same stage.
Rare is the artist who dominates two separate genres with two radically different approaches to playing. Exhibit A: the freakishly talented Miles Davis, who made the transition from peerless balladeer to jazz-funk pioneer. Exhibit B: Clarence White…
Clarence White?
Yes, White is another one of those criminally ignored figures in music – a former child prodigy who revolutionized bluegrass flatpicking and went on to create a whole new vocabulary for rock guitarists. This post looks at his unique genius from two different angles. I’ll let Brother James, who has flatpicked his way through several north Florida bluegrass bands, comment on White’s innovative approach to his acoustic instrument of choice, the Martin D-28. And the Rubber City’s Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys will talk about White’s other musical legacy – as a rock guitar trailblazer.
For a better appreciation of what Clarence White was able to accomplish, consider an unrivaled virtuoso like Belgian guitarist Django Reinhardt. As you can hear from this next sample, Reinhardt couldn’t disguise his trademark sound when he made the switch from acoustic to electric guitar. In fact, he barely altered his touch and delivery. The sample starts with Django on acoustic and ends with one of his later performances on electric… Night and Day/Django Reinhardt (acoustic/electric)
White, on the other hand, completely transformed his basic style and approach when he moved from acoustic to electric. In this first sample, a 20-year-old White displays his fully formed mastery of the acoustic guitar… I Am A Pilgrim/The Kentucky Colonels
On this next cut, you’ll hear what sounds like Neil Young’s more proficient cousin rocking out with an amped-up pedal steel… It’s actually White on his “B-Bender” guitar, which was specially rigged with pulleys and levers to bend the B note when he pulled down on the guitar’s neck. And it’s from a live recording of White with The Byrds, circa 1971: Lover of the Bayou/The Byrds with Clarence White
You can argue about which Clarence you prefer – but there’s no doubt that White advanced the language of his instrument in two very different ways.
A little background… Born in 1944, Clarence White moved with his family from his hometown of Lewiston, Maine, to Burbank, California, when he was 10 years old. He soon gained a reputation as a jaw-dropping instrumentalist, playing acoustic guitar with his brothers Roland and Eric in a bluegrass outfit called The Three Country Boys. One early fan was Andy Griffith – that’s right, the Mayberry Man… and the Three Country Boys soon found themselves guesting on one of TV’s highest-rated shows. Here’s a clip of Clarence and the Boys jamming with Andy:
The Three Country Boys eventually morphed into the Kentucky Colonels, who staked their claim as a groundbreaking and popular act (at least by bluegrass standards… in other words, small clubs filled with 70-80 enthusiastic fans). The band boasted several top-notch instrumentalists, including the great fiddle player Scotty Stoneman and Clarence’s brother Roland on mandolin. But aspiring guitar players – bluegrass and otherwise – were completely knocked out by Clarence’s blazing runs on his 1935 Martin D-28.
“The Kentucky Colonels’ ‘Appalachian Swing’ album was already seven years old when I first heard it, and I immediately got obsessed with Clarence’s acoustic style of playing,” James said. ”It was his idiosyncratic sense of timing that separated him from his mentor, Doc Watson.”
As mandolin legend David Grisman points out (in the liner notes to White’s “33 Acoustic Guitar Instrumentals”): “When we used to do ‘Bury Me Beneath the Willow,’ he would play the guitar part a whole quarter of a measure off. He was into screwing with time, but in a very accurate way so that you knew what he meant.”
“One thing that puzzled me about Clarence’s innovation is that it didn’t seem to come from anywhere,” James said. ”Doc Watson didn’t play like that. And although it’s often mentioned that he listened to Django Reinhardt, I don’t hear so much of that in his playing. Then I read a quote from Byrds bassist Chris Hillman saying he ‘probably’ got it from Bahamian guitarist Joseph Spence. I don’t know if Hillman was speaking from experience, but it makes perfect sense. Spence’s wildly syncopated playing, with its bizarre, unexpected accents, is very similar to what Clarence was doing.” Case in point… Don’t Take Everybody To Be Your Friend/Joseph Spence
I think it’s safe to say that Clarence was the very definition of a “musician’s musician.” In some circles – mainly, bluegrass and alternative country pickers – you can simply say “Clarence” and everyone knows who you’re talking about. From a performance standpoint, he showed little flash or showmanship. In fact, his stoic stage presence seemed to say “I’m just the guitar player, here to serve the song.” And he maintained this stoicism throughout his career, even while playing in front of whacked-out rock fans at the Fillmore.
White began experimenting with the electric guitar during the latter part of his stint with the Kentucky Colonels, and he stuck with it after the band fell apart in 1965. This led to the next significant stage of Clarence’s career – doing session work for a host of acts that were part of the West Coast’s quickly evolving country music scene. “Nashville West” was the term used to describe California’s answer to the dominant sound of country music in the early- to mid-Sixties – and it was also the name of a band that White joined to play assorted dives and honky-tonks in El Monte and other towns around Los Angeles.
By then, Bakersfield had become the Western hub of country music – where Merle Haggard and Buck Owens developed a tougher, more visceral alternative to the “countrypolitan” sound that Nashville had perfected. Owens even made an impression on the Beatles, who covered Act Naturally with a winning vocal by Ringo, and Owens returned the favor by incorporating some Beatle-esque flourishes into his own sound.
White did a fair amount of studio work in Bakersfield, but I wouldn’t mistake him for Roy Nichols – the guitarist of choice for Merle Haggard… If you’re not familiar with the Bakersfield Sound, here’s a textbook example – the biting intro to Merle’s The Bottle Let Me Down (Nichols follows the pedal steel)… The Bottle Let Me Down/Merle Haggard
Although just as far from mid-Sixties Nashville, White’s playing was more open and experimental than Nichols’ hard twang. This next tune was recorded in 1968 at the El Monte nightclub that gave White’s band its name – it shows just how far outside Clarence was willing to take his sound in a live setting: Ode to Billy Joe/Nashville West
Of course he had to pay the bills, too. So he logged countless hours doing studio sessions for West Coast artists like Gene Clark and the Gosdin Brothers. Here’s a number that also was covered by Owens’ guitarist Don Rich… It’s from an uneven but entertaining collection of White’s studio work – ”Tuff and Stringy Sessions: 1966-1968″: Buckaroo/Clarence White
White began playing with The Byrds in 1966, initially in the role of studio mercenary. In fact, he contributed to three albums – most significantly, adding some fine string-bending to several cuts on the classic “Sweetheart of the Rodeo” – before he was asked to join the band in 1968 following the departure of vocalist Gram Parsons and multi-instrumentalist/original member Chris Hillman (an old friend of White’s).
“For me, it was all about the B-Bender,” said Auerbach. “No one else had even thought of doing it – taking a Telecaster and making it sound like a pedal steel – until Clarence and Gene Parsons (The Byrds’ drummer) got together. I think Clarence had the idea and Parsons came up with the functionality, which included using banjo tuners to bend a few other strings.
“At the time, a lot of rockers were moving toward country – and Clarence was already completely immersed in hard country and bluegrass. He simply took those elements and incorporated them into rock ‘n roll, and it totally blew people’s minds… still does,” Dan added.
“The Byrds Live at the Fillmore West (February 1969)” may not be a favorite among rock critics, but it’s certainly one of Dan’s most treasured discs. “I could barely listen to studio tracks by The Byrds after hearing ‘Fillmore West,’” Dan says. “Even Clarence’s studio work sounds too polished compared to the Fillmore stuff. I think it showcases Clarence’s very best playing on the electric. Roger McGuinn is basically recycling Dylan on the 12-string – which ain’t bad, because he’s playing solid rhythm. But Clarence and Parsons are completely locked in and making each other sound better than ever. Parsons’ playing is muscular, but real country too. It’s like they were both leading the same revolution, because they came from country but really understood how to play rock ‘n roll.”
Listen to how Clarence plays fills around McGuinn’s vocals in this medley of The Byrds’ hits (first Turn! Turn! Turn!, then Mr. Tamborine Man, then Eight Miles High): Medley: Turn! Turn! Turn/The Byrds with Clarence White
White played with The Byrds until they broke up in 1973. But even before he left the band, his playing began to come full circle as he returned to his bluegrass roots. You can especially hear it in the title song and Bristol Steam Convention Blues from The Byrds’ last album, “Farther Along,” released in 1971. This next cut shows that White also was no slouch as a singer – he had a distinct and soulful delivery (in a nasal, Dylanesque sort of way) that worked well in harmonies with his bandmates in The Byrds as well as with his brother Roland… Farther Along/The Byrds
Two years later, White recorded a few songs with bluegrass standouts David Grisman (mandolin), Richard Greene (fiddle). Bill Keith (banjo) and Peter Rowan (vocals/guitar). These recordings, under the name “Muleskinner,” are mostly traditional bluegrass in the Bill Monroe vein.
“I spent a couple of years trying to unlock the secrets of Appalachian Swing when the newly formed Muleskinner band appeared on TV, and I was amazed,” James said. ”Clarence had refined his style, using a flatpick and two fingers instead of just a flatpick, and playing fewer notes, just the essential ones. His unique timing was still there, but even more complex and quirky. It was brilliant… sent me right back to the drawing board. I can only imagine what he might be doing today.”
James especially likes Clarence’s solo on this straight-ahead bluegrass number from Muleskinner: Dark Hollow/Muleskinner
White left us way too soon. He was killed by a drunk driver on July 15, 1973, while loading equipment into a van parked outside of a Los Angeles night club. He’d just finished a reunion gig with his brother Roland and other members of the Kentucky Colonels.
Here’s a little taste of what could have been – a long-lost recording of the White Brothers on tour in Sweden, 1973. In a way, this mini-tour was a reunion of White’s very first band, The Three Country Boys, as brothers Roland and Eric were part of the lineup billed as “The New Kentucky Colonels” (banjo player Bill Keith made it a quartet). Full circle indeed… New River Train/The White Brothers: Live in Sweden, 1973
More Clarence on video… Here’s a great artifact from the Sixties – Clarence and The Byrds playing on “Playboy After Dark.” Dig the black dude boogalooing up front!
And here’s a video from 1969 – from Earl Scruggs’ “Family & Friends Festival of Music” – where Scruggs and his hippie friends eventually get around to playing the same tune:
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.
Matt, next time you’re in town, look me up. I’ll take you to Swenson’s.
