Rubber City Review

Last year, you couldn’t avoid hearing The Black Keys on TV. And I have to admit, it started to annoy me a little bit. But I realize their marketing strategy is dead right.

I mean, who listens to the radio anymore, unless it involves sports talk or NPR? And with the music industry such a fragmented mess, TV is now the new Top 40. But it’s more like a radio station programmed by a small army of ad agency geeks – which is a good thing, actually… far better than listening to something programmed within an inch of its life by so-called professionals sporting the latest Arbitron ratings.

And that means occasionally I get turned on to some pretty cool stuff just by watching my favorite TV shows. For a while I thought Mad Men was the best thing on cable. Turns out it’s quite possibly the third-best show on AMC, which also is home to the incredibly tense and satisfying series The Killing as well as my new personal favorite, Breaking Bad.

Our flawed hero, Walter White

The latter is really an extended exercise in “what would you do under the same circumstances?” Chemistry whiz with dead-end teaching gig finds out he has cancer – and his lame-ass health care plan threatens to make his wife and son indigent upon his demise. What to do? Why not team up with a former student – now a full-time homey – and put their chemistry chops to work cooking the best crystal meth in the tri-state area?

Of course this traps our hero in a web of lies that could tear his family apart – which, to him, is a far greater concern than spending his last months in prison. Trust me, there are few better ways to waste an hour each week than following this cancer-ridden teacher and his cartoony sidekick down one rabbit hole after another. And Breaking Bad’s superb writing and direction have already earned it a boatload of Emmys (not that those haven’t gone to far less deserving programs).

Back to the music… One episode included a beautifully disturbing sequence that gave viewers an inside look at the meth supply chain. The show’s producers had the brilliant idea of juxtaposing the seedy footage against a jaunty little number by legendary New Orleans horn player Alvin “Red” Tyler: The Peanut Vendor. Actually, I didn’t know what the song was or who performed it, so I took a lengthy side trip on google to find out. Guess I should’ve checked youtube first… Here’s the clip:

My like/not so like relationship with the HBO series Treme continues with Season 2. The first season ended with John Goodman’s seething character, a professor at Tulane, doing himself in by jumping off a ferry. Which was fine with me, because I found him annoying – and I’m secretly hoping a couple of other characters on the program follow Goodman’s lead.

I keep coming back to Treme because of the one thing the program consistently gets right: the music. It’s always been a life-affirming force in New Orleans, but even more essential post-Katrina as local musicians and entrepreneurs like Antoine Batiste (played by the wonderful Wendell Pierce) struggle with a number of indignities – both self-inflicted and otherwise – in their day-to-day lives.

I’ve been hooked on New Orleans music for quite some time, so I can’t say the show has exposed me to a lot of songs and performers I wasn’t aware of already. But they did throw me a curve in the finale of the first season with a tune by the Baby Dodds Trio. Dodds was a Crescent City drummer who played with Louis Armstrong and King Oliver, among others. Although he spent many years living outside of New Orleans, his stock in trade was a syncopated, improvisational style of drumming that owed everything to his hometown. My Indian Red also features singer and banjoist Danny Barker. It’s an expression of pride and strength among Mardi Gras Indians: “We don’t bow down on nobody’s ground.” Here’s the scene from Treme that featured the song in its entirety:

The award for best use of a Black Keys song in a TV show or commercial goes to… Eastbound and Down – the ongoing saga of washed-up pitcher and part-time philosopher Kenny Powers. In this scene from the first episode, Powers makes his not-so-triumphant return to his old middle school in Shelby, North Carolina, to start a new job as a substitute physical education teacher. Gives me goose bumps every time I watch it:

As much as I try to avoid them, commercials are about 20 times more tolerable when they use the right soundtrack. This one has some powerful images, but the real star of the show is the Godfather of Soul, James Brown (then again, using Super Bad with an HR training video would still pack a wallop):

And of course the best music on TV is often saved for booze. I’m sure a few of you will tell me that there’s something inherently wrong with a tune that’s used to flog beer or liquor. I say bullshit. Listen to this steamy little number by Cold War Kids and tell me it doesn’t stand on its own merits without the help of Heineken, which tagged it for a TV spot several years ago: Mexican Dogs/Cold War Kids

Love that opening riff… but it still doesn’t match my favorite beer commercial soundtrack of all time – by the Master of the Telecaster, Albert Collins: Kool Aide/Albert Collins

I’ll close with another alcohol-fueled number, this one prominently featured in a new TV spot promoting the hard stuff (Jack Daniels). It’s a cover of Slim Harpo’s King Bee by a nasty little garage band from the Bay Area called the Stone Foxes. I think these guys are onto something… even if it has the whiff of a certain two-piece from the Rubber City: I’m a King Bee/The Stone Foxes

Put New Orleans guitarist Fird “Snooks” Eaglin, Jr. near the top of that long list of the criminally ignored.

Where do you start with this guy? Most accounts begin with the obvious, that he lost his sight before he turned two – the unintended result of an operation for glaucoma and a brain tumor. But that just started him down the same path as Ray Charles, Art Tatum, Arsenio Rodriguez, Stevie Wonder and other brilliant musical innovators to whom blindness seemed like more of an unfair advantage than a handicap. Easy for me to say, right? But someone who plays like this surely has a divine gift that’s rarely offered to the optically endowed: Kiss of Fire

Snooks was a master of the New Orleans tradition, but could play virtually anything that anyone threw at him. He was referred to as “The Human Jukebox,” and reportedly had a repertoire of more than 2,500 songs. And one of the many pleasures of the Snooks “songbook” is hearing his quirky, highly individual take on a wide range of styles – country, blues, rock, jazz, funk… even the occasional surf tune: Profidia

The Flamingoes, with Allen Toussaint at the piano

I suppose you could argue that his musical career started when he won a talent contest in 1947 at the age of 11. Before long, he was gigging with Crescent City legend Allen Toussaint as part of the Flamingoes, which competed with Art Neville’s Hawketts for the crown of best local act in the early ‘50s. He also began recording with local standouts like Sugar Boy Crawford, and you can hear Snooks’ rough and ready guitar on this Mardi Gras classic: Jock-A-Mo/Sugar Boy Crawford

Then Snooks got caught up in the folk music craze of the early ‘60s when he was “discovered” by Dr. Harry Oster, a folklorist from Louisiana State University. Oster recorded Snooks on acoustic guitar playing mostly country blues, with little accompaniment. Sort of like asking Paul Prudhomme to make a grilled cheese sandwich (although I’m sure it would taste great). But these reverently rendered standards – which ended up on the Folkways and Prestige labels – still have their little pleasures. After all, it is Snooks, who also had a wonderfully expressive voice that earned him the title “Little Ray Charles”: Bottle Up and Go

Far more rewarding are the cuts that Snooks recorded with the New Orleans-based Imperial label from 1960 to 1963, mainly because they were produced by Rock Hall of Famer Dave Bartholomew and feature many of the city’s top players, including the amazing James Booker on piano. You can find these sizzling cuts (if you’re lucky) on a 26-track collection called “The Complete Imperial Recordings.” If Snooks had ended his career with these tracks, he’d still be considered one of the city’s greatest talents. Here’s a taste: Is It True

But his best stuff was still down the road, including his legendary sessions in the early ‘70s with Professor Longhair and the Wild Magnolias – musicians who practically define all that’s good and right about New Orleans music.

The Professor Longhair recordings are referred to as “the Lost Sessions,” but we can thank the Rounder label for resurrecting a fine sampling of the smoking-hot tunes that Snooks laid down with the piano master in ’71 and ’72. They were recorded in Baton Rouge, Memphis and Woodstock, NY (somehow, Jerry Wexler of Atlantic Records and Albert Grossman, manager of The Band, got involved at some point), and capture the two giants with a rotating cast of back-up musicians, including a couple of first-rate and flamboyantly named drummers: Joseph “Zigaboo” Modeliste of the Meters and Shiba (Edwin Kimbraugh). This is the real deal – raw, unvarnished, let-it-rip New Orleans soul. I love the way Snooks cranks up his amp as he tears into this solo… give me a slice of that: Cherry Pie/Professor Longhair

And you’d be hard-pressed to find better ambassadors of New Orleans culture than the Wild Magnolias. We’re talking honest-to-god Mardi Gras social club Indians, but with a decidedly modern and funky take on that rich tradition. Basically, their first album was just a cheap excuse to put together an all-star band made up of New Orleans’ finest (sensing a theme here?). The sessions were organized in ’73 by pianist Wilson Turbinton – better known as Willie Tee, responsible for the “Carolina shag” hit Teasin’ You. Throw into that spicy roux Willie’s brother Earl on horns, a mighty rhythm section, Snooks, and the gritty, soulful voice of Big Chief “Bo” Dollis… dat’s some serious gumbo, my friends: Smoke My Peace Pipe (Smoke It Right)/The Wild Magnolias

That very well could’ve been it for Snooks’ recording career… but thankfully, Black Top Records’ label heads Nauman and Hammond Scott stepped in about a dozen years later, brought Snooks back into the studio and introduced him to poor schlubs like, well, me. At the time, I was listening to just about any blues I could get my hands on as I tried to survive the music industry’s most wretched years (Duran Duran, Wang Chung, Crock of Beagles… don’t bring that MTV shit to my doorstep). Now I’ve heard all the criticisms about the Black Top sound – slick, over-produced, occasionally uninspired… all of which, for the most part, are true. But the Scott brothers will always have a special place in my heart for rescuing Snooks and Georgia-by-way-of-Dayton, Ohio bluesman Robert Ward from complete obscurity (maybe even abject poverty). And, like the shrimp my bro’ gets in St. Augustine, it’s very difficult to screw up Snooks and Robert Ward.

I could support this theory with many examples from Snooks’ Black Top years… and I’ll get around to one before we’re through here. But I’ll also point out that Snooks didn’t exactly run away and hide from ’73 to ’85. He usually performed at the annual New Orleans Jazz Fest and held steady gigs in and around the city, either backing up other acts or doing his “human jukebox” thing, following through on a surprising number of requests from the crowd. So you could make the case that his best and nastiest stuff from the Black Top years were his live recordings. Let me enter into the record exhibit A, this blazing set opener from “Black Top Blues-A-Rama, Volume 6″ – recorded live at Tipitina’s in ’89: I Cry, Oh!

God bless the Scotts, the good folks at New Orleans Jazz Fest, and the proprietors of the Mid-City Rock ‘n’ Bowl club for giving Snooks a new lease on life that carried him all the way to his untimely demise in 2009, when he died of a heart attack at the age of 73.

How does one describe his legacy? Probably the most obvious tribute is that no one played like Snooks. He could toy with a delicate melody like Apache, and then flat-out shred. But everything he played had that indelible stamp of New Orleans soul filtered through a skewed, maybe even more than a little dirty, mind (with due respect for his late wife of 36 years, Dee).

By most accounts, he was an irascible, thorny guy who trusted virtually no one. But he sure left us with some awe-inspiring music… I’ll close with this supremely funky number from “Soul’s Edge,” which also features Snooks’ main musical foil during the Black Top years, former Meters bassist George Porter Jr.: Josephine

Snooks Eaglin at the Rock 'n' Bowl

Snooks Eaglin on video… live at the former Lone Star Roadhouse in NYC, with George Porter Jr. and Kenneth Blevins (Sonny Landreth, John Hiatt) on drums. And how do you even begin to describe what he’s doing on guitar? Most of my favorite pickers don’t use picks, but I’ve never seen someone attack a guitar quite like Snooks. It’s like someone pointed a gun to flamenco legend Carlos Montoya’s head and made him play like Hendrix.

Here he’s joined by piano man Jon Cleary on a Crescent City favorite, Red Beans. When Snooks stands up, you’d better watch out…

Dr. John, the Night Tripper. Gris-gris man. Guru of hoodoo. Master of New Orleans rhythm and funk.

With Dr. John, New Orleans native Mac Rebennack created one of the most memorable characters in music. Part Mardi Gras Indian and part conjurer of dark spirits, Dr. John seemed rooted in traditions that had little to do with the psychedelic rockers he toured with back in the Sixties. And he probably sent more than a few hippies to the psych ward with the voodoo-inspired look and sound of the Night Trippers, his traveling band of New Orleans refugees: Gris-Gris Gumbo Ya Ya

On any given night, you might see a fire dancer, a snake handler or even a magic trick or two. But the band’s sinister sideshow was just part of the story. Dr. John remains the real deal – a visionary genius who has been reinventing Crescent City soul since he started playing guitar in the Third Ward back in 1954 (he switched to piano after the ring finger of his fretting hand was almost shot off during a fight). And if you only knew him from classic records like “Gris-Gris” or “Right Place, Wrong Time” – or even from one of his guitar-driven instrumentals from the ‘50s like Storm Warning – you were probably knocked sideways (like I was) by his 1981 release “Dr. John Plays Mac Rebennack.”

That album and a follow-up release titled “The Brightest Smile in Town” (1983) captured Dr. John’s first and only solo recording sessions on piano. Professor Longhair, James Booker and other masters of New Orleans piano get their due, but the solo albums mostly serve notice that Dr. John has a wonderful style that’s all his own – and very few living peers when it comes to “radiating the 88s.” Here’s a stunning original that he wrote for his mother: Dorothy

As he points out in his excellent book “Under the Hoodoo Moon: The Life of the Night Tripper,” the solo project for the small Clean Cuts label was something he initially dreaded because “it reminded me of my greatest professional nightmare – that I’d end up a solo-piano lounge act, staring at Holiday Inns or bowling alleys for the rest of my natural life.”

The sessions ended up having a liberating effect on Dr. John, who had grown tired of playing the same old stuff. “The audiences loved those earlier [New Orleans/Mardi Gras] songs, but I found they were also ready for music on a higher plane, sounds that appealed to a spiritual awareness, not just that low-down meat level. But I tried to keep the old street-side New Orleans flavor in there, too…” which is especially apparent on this original, a tribute to his father: Big Mac

In an earlier release called “Dr. John’s Gumbo,” he brought together some of New Orleans’ finest (including the first-class horn section of Lee Allen and Melvin and David Lastie), to cover a number of Crescent City classics… songs like Iko Iko, Big Chief, Little Liza Jane and this one, a favorite back in the day at Angola State Penitentiary: Junko Partner Despite the grim subject matter (“the anthem for the dopers, whores, pimps, and cons,” as Dr. John puts it in his book), Junko Partner has that funky, joyful vibe that seems to pour out of the best New Orleans R&B.

With the Clean Cut sessions, Dr. John mostly avoids the usual New Orleans fare in favor of more unexpected standards like Hoagy Carmichael’s The Nearness of You, the traditional Wade in the Water, and this Latin-tinged number by Brazilian composer and cavaquinho player Valdir Azevedo: Delicado

Dr. John with North Side Skull & Bones Gang, Mardi Gras '08 (photo: James Quine)

The sessions have a very informal and organic feel to them, like Dr. John just plopped himself down at a piano in an empty hotel lobby and started running through every song he’d ever learned. “I probably prepared less for those two Clean Cut albums… than for any other I’d ever done,” he said. “I just had to go in there and wing it; because of my fear of performing solo, I knew if I thought about it too much, I’d have frozen.”

The stripped-down sessions took place at a small studio near New York City’s Chelsea neighborhood. Just the basics – baby grand piano, a two-track recording system… and Dr. John, of course. Hard to miss with that combination.

Dr. John on video… Here’s a solo performance from 1981, the year Clean Cut released “Dr. John Plays Mac Rebennack.” Oddly enough, it’s part of a skit from Second City Television (SCTV), the Canadian sketch comedy show that first introduced viewers in the U.S. to John Candy, Catherine O’Hara and Eugene Levy, among others. Dr. John also acted in this sketch – ”Polynesian Town,” a takeoff of the movie “Chinatown”:

And here’s a curious artifact from the Night Tripper years – a performance of Zu Zu Mamou from the album “The Sun, Moon & Herbs.” “What I wanted was entertainment for the eyes as well as the ears, and I knew the minstrels were the best there was at laying down a show,” Dr. John writes. “It was a kick to bring back the idea of showmanship to the rock and roll era, where at the time there was little old-style show biz happening.”

On March 14, Dr. John will be inducted by John Legend into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Had to throw this in… new video for The Black Keys – Howlin’ for You. Insane.

We’re in full holiday mode here in the Rubber City – plenty of white stuff on the ground and white people in our malls searching for Susan Boyle’s latest CD.

Now I’ve got nothing against Ms. Boyle, who recently released a Christmas album called “The Gift.” And I’m sure the album will hit its sales targets without RCR’s support. But when it comes to holiday-themed music, I prefer something with more of an edgy, go-for-broke, Santa’s been drinkin’ again vibe. The kind of music that typically doesn’t get piped into a Wal-Mart store. James Brown’s Funky Christmas. Blue Yule. Christmas Greetings from Jamaica’s Studio One. Hillbilly Holiday. Anything by Otis Redding, Billie Holiday, Amos Milburn or Sister Rosetta Tharpe will do just fine too.

With that in mind, here’s Rubber City Review’s second annual holiday song roundup – the perfect soundtrack for sharing a yule log with that special friend or loved one.

I love the fact that James Brown appears in “Ski Party,” a b-movie with Frankie Avalon about non-stop hi-jinx on the high slopes of Idaho (video clip at end of post). And I don’t think it’s ever fully explained how J.B. and his Famous Flames got there, or how they became the resort’s resident ski patrol. That’s a long way from Augusta G-A (although I’m sure the Godfather of Soul’s fabulous footwork would serve him well on the slopes). I’m far more comfortable with the idea of J.B. reinventing the classic Christmas song with more urban fare like Go Power at Christmas Time and Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto. Here’s another fine funky take on the holiday season from the world’s most soulful Santa: Let’s Make Christmas Mean Something This Year/James Brown

When Jamaican music legend Clement “Cosxone” Dodd founded his Studio One label back in ’54, I don’t think he had holiday songs in mind. But when you record as many artists as he did – Bob Marley and the Wailers, Lee “Scratch” Perry, Toots and the Maytals, The Skatalites and The Ethiopians, to name a few – you’re bound to come up with a few holiday gems. The “Christmas Greetings from Studio One” collection delivers the goods and then some with tunes by Marley, Toots, The Silvertones and other masters of ska and reggae. Think Christmas on the beach with a string of lights hanging from a palm tree, a case of Red Stripe, some jerk chicken… well, I’ll just leave it at that. Jingle Bells/Roy Richards

Christmas in California is another alien concept to those of us who spend much of the holiday season chipping ice and blowing snow. But we can always dream. And sometimes we drift away on thoughts of bikini beach parties at twilight, with freshly scrubbed kids named Bif, Binky, Tad and Ginger dancing around an open fire to the sound of twangy guitars against the crashing surf. Then the snow plow slams into the curb outside and it’s back to reality. Screw it… Time to hit the hard stuff, drop the needle on “The Ventures Christmas Album” and start twisting the night away. Where the hell did I put that goose-down Speedo? Jingle Bell Rock/The Ventures

What about the guy who has everything? You know, Magnavox hi-fi, portable wet bar, leopard-skin furniture, Philco TV… Maybe he’s never had his mind blown by the exotic sounds of Esquivel – his piano, orchestra and chorus. Let’s go right to the liner notes from “Esquivel! Merry Xmas from the Space-Age Bachelor Pad” (Hoboken’s Bar/None label): “Mingle ‘round your tinsel-draped Sputnik, flick on the twinkling lights, fix up a libation if you like, and let Esquivel’s otherworldly sounds transport you into Santa’s saucer, high in the stratosphere on Christmas eve.” I’m sure this would’ve sounded great on my dad’s home-built Heathkit, if only he could’ve fixed that annoying buzz in the left channel… White Christmas/Esquivel

Many posts ago, we talked about the glory years of Cincinnati’s legendary King Records label and studio. And I’m surprised it’s taken me this long to come across “Merry Christmas, Baby,” a compilation of holiday-flavored King R&B. How can you lose with a lineup that includes Charles Brown (Merry Christmas Baby), Lowell Fulson (Lonesome Christmas, Pts. 1 and 2), Lloyd Glenn (Sleighride) and Johnny Moore’s Blazers (Christmas Letter)? Richmond, VA, native Mabel Scott scored a hit with this next tune back in 1948, a year before she became Charles Brown’s wife for about a New York minute. After a second marriage failed in the mid-‘50s, Scott went back to her gospel roots and left the more secular pleasures of boogie woogie behind: Boogie Woogie Santa Claus/Mabel Scott

Time to drag Santa through the honky tonk, pour some whiskey over his head and toss him out the back door. Last year we featured Daddy’s Drinking Up Our Christmas by Commander Cody – one of several roasted chestnuts on “Hillbilly Holiday,” a great collection of country-flavored Christmas tunes. Let’s revisit that bonanza of backwoods fun with Brenda Lee, the 4 foot 9 inch dynamo from Atlanta. Lee scored a hit in 1960 with Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, which actually was recorded two years earlier. But it wasn’t her first holiday rodeo. This next tune was the B side of a 1956 single (w/ Christy Christmas) aimed squarely at the kids, but with just enough of the honky tonk in it to keep the barflies happy too. I’m Gonna Lasso Santa Claus/Brenda Lee

I’ve always wanted to spend the holidays in New Orleans. But I fear my Christmas spirit would be tested in a city where the nights are far from silent and holy. At least I could sober up listening to the sacred sounds of the world-famous Zion Harmonizers. They started as a quartet of teenagers back in 1939, singing traditional spirituals in the churches of New Orleans’ old Zion City neighborhood. Now they’re a powerful sextet that likes to mix it up a little bit with more modern arrangements of tunes like Down By The Riverside, and tourists can sometimes catch them at the House of Blues’ Sunday Gospel Brunch. I’m sure more than a few omelets go uneaten when they launch into this tune (special thanks to Bill Austin in St. A for this one): White Christmas/The Zion Harmonizers

As long as we’ve got the gospel spirit, let’s close this one out with the pride of Cotton Plant, Arkansas – Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Here she gives O Little Town of Bethlehem the sanctified treatment. Sister Rosetta also recorded a few blues and R&B numbers during her remarkable career, and she never got enough credit for serving as an inspiration to Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash – virtually anyone who recorded at Sun Studios during the ‘50s. And brothers and sisters, could she play some guitar (visual evidence provided in video below). Dear readers, repent for your sins… throw away those holiday CDs by Sting, Michael Bublé, Mariah Carey and the like, and get right with someone who really knows how to throw down a Christmas song: O Little Town of Bethlehem/Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Here’s James Brown and his Famous Flames entertaining a ski lodge full of shiny happy prepsters (notice how quickly J.B. and Flames head out the back door when the performance is over)…

And here’s one of the few living documents – video or otherwise – of Sister Rosetta’s amazing prowess on electric guitar:

At what point did we know that the box set was deceased?

Was it when the German Bear Family label released a 12-CD collection (with hardcover book) of Pat Boone’s complete ‘50s recordings? Or when America’s leading reissue label, Rhino Records, laid off 20 percent of its staff – resigning itself to the fact that the vast majority of people under 30 refuse to pay for music?

Regardless, it’s been a good run for those of us who like to deep-dive into our favorite artists’ back catalogs. So let’s cherish the digital memories… even as we curse the unwieldy cardboard boxes taking up valuable shelf space in our partially assembled particle-board entertainment centers.

Here’s the rest of the list we started in our last post – five more box sets that you probably don’t have the time to listen to (although one kept me from going insane during a major paint removal project).

Sonny Rollins: The Complete Prestige Recordings… Members of the assembly, have we grown soft worshipping false idols? There is only one Greek god of the saxophone, and his name is Rollins. Let us bow down as he hurls mighty bolts of power and majesty from his throne atop Mount Colossus. Sorry… I get a little giddy listening to the “Complete Prestige Recordings,” which captures the meteoric rise of Sonny Rollins from journeyman be-bopper to one of the true giants of jazz. He was a man of contradictions, a daring soloist who could burn with blazing speed and dexterity but often played his favorite show tunes with great reverence (and maybe just a tinge of irony). And that lyricism often seemed at odds with a sound that was about as bold and muscular as any one man can wring out of an acoustic instrument. There’s a lot of variety in this set as Rollins supports Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk, and even goes head-to-head with John Coltrane on Tenor Madness. But the best tunes are those with Rollins firmly in charge, and the opening to You Don’t Know What Love Is – from his masterpiece, “Saxophone Colossus” – even sets the gold standard for “jazz noir”… You Don’t Know What Love Is

What It Is! Funky Soul and Rare Grooves… Those of you who collect vinyl usually enjoy the act of crate-diving – the thrill of the hunt, as they say. In my younger days, I spent a fair amount of time combing rat-infested record stores. Now I thank god for labels like Rhino Records for doing all the hard work for me and coming up with outstanding collections like “What It Is!” As allmusic.com rightfully points out, “it would cost a fortune to collect these songs in their original form of release.” I say, just bring me the goods – and Rhino delivers. Even hard-core collectors of rare funk and soul give the label credit for digging especially deep to come up with some great hidden gems on this one, although a few of the artists (Aretha, Commodores, Curtis Mayfield) are hardly unknown. In another post, I featured my favorite song from this collection – Fairchild by Willie West. Here’s another standout cut from “What It Is!”… You Gotta Know Watcha Doin’/Charles Wright

Crescent City Soul: The Sound of New Orleans, 1947-1974… In one episode of the new HBO show “Treme,” much is made of an out-of-print box set by famous New Orleans producer, arranger, bandleader and all-around musical wizard Dave Bartholomew (basically, nutjob DJ Davis steals it in an act of revenge). Well, I wouldn’t mind stealing “The Genius of Dave Bartholomew” myself. But in terms of sheer awesomeness, I’d have to give the edge to this 4-CD, 119-song, equally hard-to-find set featuring some of the greatest songs ever recorded in the Crescent City. And yes, Bartholomew has a hand in a lot of them – Trick Bag by Earl King, Stack A Lee by Archibald and Walking to New Orleans by Fats Domino, to name a few. So good, it was named the “official collection of the 1996 New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.” And so hard to describe in just one paragraph, so I’ll leave you with just two of the many delicious R&B nuggets on “Crescent City Soul.” By the by, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum will honor 89-year-old Bartholomew and long-time musical partner Fats Domino, 82, in its 15th Annual American Musical Masters Series set for this November in Cleveland. I Done Got Over It/Irma Thomas Travellin’ Mood/Wee Willie Wayne

Miles Davis: The Complete Columbia Studio Recordings of the Miles Davis Quintet… Back in the early ’60s, who would’ve thought that Miles Davis could top his legendary quintet with John Coltrane (the one that recorded the classic “Kind of Blue”)? Well, in just a few short years, Miles had assembled a new band that some jazz fanatics simply call “the second great quintet.” Miles, Wayne Shorter on sax, Herbie Hancock on piano, Ron Carter on bass and Tony Williams on drums. It’s no exaggeration to say that hundreds of contemporary jazz acts are modeled after this band. Miles’ new quintet started out deconstructing the same standards that the Miles-Coltrane band perfected – songs like Stella by Starlight and All of You. Then they ventured off into playing original compositions, many by Shorter, that simply served as launching pads for the kind of breathtaking group improvisation heard here… Footprints And toward the end of their tenure, they built the foundation for Miles’ next journey into the land of electric funk… Stuff I’ve listened to this set many times, but I still feel a sense of discovery every time I play it.

Rockin’ Bones: 1950s Punk and Rockabilly… Another fine set from the good folks at Rhino – a wild ride through the many joys of ‘50s rock ‘n roll, hillbilly style. I would’ve been disappointed with another collection of the classic stuff I already own. So I especially like the way this one moves from the familiar (Summertime Blues by Eddie Cochran) to the obscure (Down on the Farm by Al Downing). Of course, rockabilly purists might argue that the set is skewed in favor of the familiar, and some might question the “punk” label being applied to music that appeared some 20 years before the Sex Pistols spat on their first fan (although I’m not sure I can come up with a better label for this next tune, which later was subject to even greater depravity at the hands of psychobilly sickos the Cramps: Love Me/The Phantom). But let’s not pick nits – this is hugely enjoyable stuff. And, since many of the artists are of Appalachian descent, there’s also some first-rate guitar pickin’ throughout. Plus the audio clips from vintage teen-film trailers – like this one and this one – make it even more essential. Play it in your car and obey the speed limit… I dare you. Action Packed/Johnny Dollar

Ten more worth mentioning:

• Joe Henderson: The Blue Note Years… This set features the pride of Lima, Ohio, as bandleader and sideman (with, among others, Lee Morgan, Horace Silver and McCoy Tyner). But it really tells the story of one label’s glory years.
• Sam Cooke’s SAR Records Story… As a label head, Sam Cooke was full of surprises – from the gritty gospel of the Womack Brothers to the juke-joint blues of  Johnnie Morisette.
• Sir Douglas Quintet: The Complete Mercury Recordings… The king of border rock plays some of our farfisa-driven favorites and a whole lot of Texas rock ‘n soul. Plus Mendocino en Español!
• James Brown: Star Time… Still the best funk collection ever assembled. Slap it on at a party and let the games begin.
• The House That Trane Built… Another great overview of a groundbreaking label – in this case, John Coltrane’s last stop, Impulse!
• Cuba: I Am Time… A cigar box that holds the island’s greatest export – a rich musical tradition that contemporary Cuban bands seem to reinvent every day.
• Big Ol’ Box of New Orleans… Some overlap with “Crescent City Soul,” but another outstanding collection of prime R&B from the cradle of American roots music, with more of a modern twist.
• Thelonious Monk: The Columbia Years… An exhaustive set would have many versions of the same composition. Thankfully, this 3-CD set offers a more diverse overview – from solo to big band performances.
• Muddy Waters: The Chess Box… Probably my first box set – a Christmas gift from my mom. She called it “jukin’ music.” I call it the source of all that is good and right in the world.
• Dexter Gordon: The Complete Blue Note Sixties Sessions… A 6-CD meditation on what it means to be “urbane.”

Blues, New Orleans-style… The late, great Earl King at the Chicago Blues Festival, doing that thing that he used to do so well.

I’m a blues hound… won’t deny it. Love the form’s many sub-genres and permutations. Hate most attempts to slap a little rouge on its cheeks and make it more presentable to the masses. You can have your Jonny Langs and Keb Mos. Give me John Lee Hooker, alone with his guitar – and please find a way to remove all those special guest artists from his final recordings.

On more than one occasion, I’ve run into a distinguished-looking gentleman wearing one of those painfully casual outfits who claims to love blues too. But he’ll offer this information in a very solemn and private way, like he’s confessing he has a family of illegal aliens living in his basement.

Fact is, he’s told me nothing… Did he just see B.B. King at the outdoor amphitheater while getting hammered on cosmos with Buffy, Bif and Lillian? Or does he like to drink bottom-shelf liquor by himself and listen to the stream-of-consciousness blues that Robert Pete Williams recorded in Angola Prison? Doesn’t make much difference to me what he likes… I just think that extra bit of information would be helpful before we continue the conversation.

As Duke Ellington pointed out, “There’s two kinds of music: good and bad.” So it goes with blues – there’s a lot to like and almost as much to avoid. And I try to judge all comers on their own merits. I don’t knock Robert Cray for trying to sound like the second coming of Stax-Volt. Some of his best stuff comes close enough. But don’t bring me any of Clapton’s last 20 or so releases, and if you buy me Buddy Guy’s latest for my birthday, save the gift receipt.

The real reason I stick with the form is the universe of expression within it. You’ve got your city blues and country blues… hard-driving Chicago blues and laid-back Piedmont blues… full horn sections and one guy with a mic… fife and drum bands from the Mississippi hill country… flame-throwing guitar slingers from Texas… piano pounders from New Orleans and Kansas City… shouters… crooners… howlin’ at the mooners… maybe there’s a blues song in there somewhere?

Which brings us in a very roundabout way to one of my favorite sub-genres, swamp blues. Before I came across this mutant form, I thought I had a pretty good understanding of blues. I had faithfully purchased and analyzed the Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson box sets, viewed the “Live at Newport” videos, read the books, even learned a few of the songs myself… Then Slim Harpo came along, openly mocking my earnest attempts to become a blues scholar.

At this point, it’s probably useful to ask, what is swamp blues? First, it’s a form of Louisiana music that should not be confused with the state’s other vital and distinct contributions to American music – including Dixieland, New Orleans R&B, Cajun and Zydeco. Second, it’s largely the product of a small studio in Crowley, Louisiana, where one J.D. “Jay” Miller created regional hits for the Excello label, run by Ernie Young in Nashville. In other words, another one of those haphazard cultural collisions that makes Southern roots music so damn good.

Swamp blues is what you’d expect when a self-taught producer reinvents the dominant Chicago sound in a small Louisiana town – lazy, loping rhythms, casually soulful singing, and a do-it-yourself approach to recording technology (or lack thereof). Check out this cardboard-box rhythm on a tune by Lightnin’ Slim: Mean Old Lonesome Train/Lightnin’ Slim

Many artists made the pilgrimage to Louisiana rice country to record at Miller’s Crowley studio, including a small army of curiously named bluesmen like Mr. Calhoun, Shy Guy Douglas, Whispering Smith, Guitar Gable and Boogie Jake. Miller also launched the careers of several outstanding blues women – most notably the great piano player Katie Webster, who did session work on legendary swamp blues and pop recordings like Phil Phillips’ 1959 hit, “Sea of Love.” Here’s Katie with her own take on the hit… Sea of Love/Katie Webster

Crowley today: "Where Life is Rice and Easy!"

Let me get right to the point, by sharing with you a short list of my favorite swamp blues recordings (samples at the end for your listening pleasure):

Slim Harpo: I Got Love If You Want It. This tune seems to encompass everything that’s right and wonderful about swamp blues. I’m not sure how to describe the rhythm – it’s like the second-grade teacher gave the kids a few shakers and sticks and asked them to play a mambo. Then there’s the harp, which ain’t Little Walter but makes one hell of a statement at the opening. The acoustic-sounding guitar serves only one purpose – to move the song from I to IV to V. And Harpo’s voice brings it all together with his usual, laconic delivery. A blues masterpiece.

Lightnin’ Slim: It’s Mighty Crazy. John Hammond Jr. did a great version of this song back in ’75, but the original can’t be beat. Miller’s Cajun background must’ve led him to suggest the rub-board rhythm. Lazy Lester gives the tune its signature riff. And Slim’s gritty voice adds just enough menace to make you wonder just what he’s rubbin’ on. I think we all know it’s something other than a good scrub in the bathtub.

Lonesome Sundown: My Home is a Prison. Apparently, Miller liked the opening guitar riff to this song – it shows up on several other cuts by Lonesome Sundown (aka Cornelius Green). Sundown played guitar for Zydeco legend Clifton Chenier before joining Miller’s stable of artists in 1956. Released the following year, this tune is about as blue as blue can get… “It’s true I shot my baby, but it’s because she did me wrong. The only thing I got is this lonesome jail I call home.” Maybe Sundown was haunted by the dark muse behind this song… He eventually became a minister in the ecumenically named Lord Jesus Christ of the Apostolic Faith Fellowship Throughout the World Church.

Lazy Lester: I Hear You Knockin’. Not to be confused with the New Orleans nugget by Smiley Lewis that adds the line “but you can’t come in.” This is one of those blues songs with near-universal appeal, easily making the transition to rock and honky tonk (check out Dwight Yoakam’s version from “Buenas Noches from a Lonely Room”). Sounds like the rhythm section consists of that same cardboard box they used on Mean Old Lonesome Train. Legend has it that Lester met Lightnin’ Slim on a bus and talked his way into a recording session at the Crowley studio. We can all be thankful for that conversation.

“Rockin” Tabby Thomas: Hoodoo Party. The New Orleans influence is especially strong on this cut by Tabby Thomas, father of contemporary blues artist Chris Thomas King and former owner of Tabby’s Blues Box and Heritage Hall in Baton Rouge, LA. Great rhythm and horn part, and Tabby’s fine voice is practically swimming in Miller’s patented reverb. Louisiana blues doesn’t get any better than this – a testament to Miller’s genius in the studio.

Jerry “Boogie” McCain: She’s Tough. Jerry’s girl is so hot, she walks through campus and “professor lose his mind.” But she can’t hold a match to McCain’s blazing harp, which sounds like it could burn the whole place to the ground. McCain obviously inspired the Fabulous Thunderbirds, who included this song on their 1979 debut. And the pride of Gadsden, Alabama, is still playing the blues today. You can check him out at the city’s annual Jerry McCain Broad Street Blues Bash (now that’s how you honor a blues legend!). I Got Love If You Want It It’s Mighty Crazy My Home Is A Prison I Hear You Knockin’ Hoodoo Party She’s Tough

Since Brother Jack did such a great job of taking us down to New Orleans in his last post on James Booker, I decided to stay there – and offer up a few of my favorite examples of Crescent City Soul.

The history of New Orleans R&B is filled with characters like Roy Montrell – incredibly talented musicians who kept the tradition alive but received little or no recognition for their efforts.  Montrell played on countless sides during his 20-some years as a session guitarist and toured with New Orleans elite, including Fats Domino.  But he only recorded two singles under his own name.  My first pick makes the case that they should’ve kept the tape running a lot longer…  It features some of the Crescent City’s best players – including the great Earl Palmer on drums and the one-two punch of Red Tyler (baritone) and Lee Allen (tenor) on saxes.  Don’t let the title fool you… (Every Time I Hear) That Mellow Saxophone is a masterpiece of manic energy. (Every Time I Hear) That Mellow Saxophone

Even casual fans of the New Orleans tradition are aware of Dr. John’s legacy as a first-rate piano player, soulful singer and conjurer of dark spirits.  But few know that the man who started his career as Mac Rebennack was an equally dangerous guitar player with a slashing style.  (In his highly entertaining autobiography, “Under a Hoodoo Moon: The Life of Dr. John the Night Tripper,” Rebennack notes that he switched to piano after someone shot the ring finger on his left hand.)   The best of Rebennack’s guitar-driven singles, along with a few other novelties, can be found on “Medical School: The Early Sessions of Mac ‘Dr. John’ Rebennack” on the Music Club label.  Listen to him work out on the aptly titled Storm Warning… Storm Warning

The legendary Professor Longhair cast a long shadow over every Crescent City keyboard player who fell under his spell (although he may have been outdone by the ridiculously talented James Booker).  Thankfully, we can find many examples of his masterful playing on a number of releases, including a fine anthology on Rhino.  But I keep coming back to a classic version of Big Chief, recorded in 1964 at the studio of famed New Orleans engineer Cosimo Matassa.  Oddly enough, this tough-as-nails single features Dr. John on guitar and relegates an even better guitar player, Earl King, to the role of “whistler” – while Longhair sounds a little buried under the stabbing horns.  But it all works… and it’s hard to find better examples of what n’yawlins rhythm is all about… Big Chief

The easiest way to describe the Meters is “Booker T & the MGs filtered through New Orleans”… but it doesn’t begin to capture the essence of a band that churned out one monstrous groove after another during an incredible run from 1965 to 1977.  Although singer and keyboard player Art Neville went on to join his brothers in forming the city’s most famous family band, he continues to perform today with other original Meters in various lineups.  But their output from the late ‘60s to the early ‘70s is like raw meat to the world’s greatest rhythm sections – the stuff you dive into when you’ve had your fill of the rest.  Listen to how guitar player Leo Nocentelli teases the beat on this funky little gem from 1969. Cardova

In 2005, Nonesuch Records released “Our New Orleans,” a post-Katrina benefit to raise funds for the relief efforts of Habitat for Humanity.  It featured newly recorded songs by a number of musicians identified with the New Orleans sound, including the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Allen Toussaint and Eddie Bo.  But my favorite cut is by the Queen of Crescent City Soul, Irma Thomas.  She’s been covered by artists ranging from the Rolling Stones (Time Is On My Side) to Norah Jones (Ruler Of My Heart, backed by the Dirty Dozen).  Although bowed by a music biz doesn’t seem to have much use for a 68-year-old R&B legend, Irma is far from broken.  She remains one of New Orleans’ most vital artists — as evidenced by her emotional take on this original by a prescient Bessie Smith.  Back Water Blues

Although famous for his hit Working in a Coal Mine, Lee Dorsey recorded far-funkier sides during his 25-year career – usually under the production of New Orleans renaissance man Allen Toussaint.  And, like virtually every other artist in this list, Dorsey kept cranking out one gem after another while remaining virtually unnoticed by the music industry.  But he’s making a posthumous comeback, with the Obama Nation and several indie rockers adopting his classic anthem Yes We Can Can (written by Toussaint) as a tribute to the power of positive thinking.  But I’m partial to the deep groove laid down by – who else – the Meters on a song from 1970 that seems like a raw prelude to Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. Who’s Gonna Help Brother Get Further

The New Orleans sound continues to evolve, thanks to artists like drummer Stanton Moore.  He’d already mastered the city’s highly syncopated rhythms by the time he formed Galactic in 1994 – another jam-band with a rabid following.  And he’s a restless innovator who seems to jump from one lineup of musicians to another at the drop of a drumstick.  But the recordings he’s made under his own name seem a little closer to the root, and I love the way he turns the tradition inside out on this cut from “Flyin’ the Coop.”  It also features Chris Wood from Medeski, Martin & Wood, as well as a sampled chant from the Wild Magnolias Mardi Gras Indians.  Modern New Orleans music doesn’t get much better than this… Fallin’ Off the Floor

Dr. John with the Baby Dolls at Mardi Gras, 2008 (Photos: James Quine)

Brother Jack takes us from the Rubber City down to New Orleans — home of the world’s greatest piano players and the gonzo king who ruled them all, James Booker.  Jack also gives us a few basic tips on how to play like Booker.

Growing up in Akron, there wasn’t much chance to hear live jazz piano, but Dad had some records.  Not the spacey bop stuff.  He listened to players like Erroll Garner who had a strong sense of melody.  This was a style I could relate to… On the Sunny Side of the Street

One guy who played locally, Pat Pace, was a major talent with a singular style.  I used to get real close to watch him play, wondering what the heck he was doing, until he would give me that “get lost” stare.  At one gig, he transformed a classical piece — Pavane for a Dead Princess by Ravel — into a jazz improvisation.  It was stunning.

Our uncle Joe lived in New York City.  He claimed it was the best place to hear jazz piano.  Joe’s favorite was Dave McKenna, who was quoted as saying “I play saloon piano — I like to stay close to the melody.”

Fats with the Fab Four

New York was the epicenter of jazz piano, but New Orleans was home of an engaging style closer to the roots of jazz.  You could hear it in the pop music of the day, most notably Fats Domino.  If you were listening closely to everything on the charts, your ears might have perked up to the organ solo recorded in 1960 in New Orleans by a 20-year-old James Booker on a funky single, Gonzo. Gonzo

The song hit the charts in November and remained there for seven weeks.  This was two years before the organ-driven Green Onions by Booker T & the MGs was a huge hit.  The word “gonzo” wasn’t used to describe the journalism of Hunter S. Thompson until 1970… Booker was ahead of the curve.

Booker was a great organist, but he is best known for his piano playing.  Actually, what you thought was Fats Domino playing piano on a record might have been Booker.  Fats was too busy touring to spend much time in the studio, so Booker would lay down the piano tracks and have them ready for Fats to add the vocals to when he got back to town.  Booker also toured posing as New Orleans legend Huey “Piano” Smith because the real Smith hated to tour.

I just missed seeing Booker live.  I was in New Orleans around 1981 when I heard that an incredible player had a regular gig at the Maple Leaf Bar.  I had to go and hear that.  Unfortunately, I heard nothing.  Nothing that I can remember.  The Booker I saw was dazed and confused.  The man playing was not Booker, but the remains of Booker after a life of drugs and alcohol.  He died shortly after that of liver failure in 1983.

When I finally picked up a Booker CD, I was amazed.  What took me so long to find him?  Here was the music I was looking for.  Here was the master of the New Orleans piano tradition, and a lot more.  He loved Erroll Garner and knew his solos by heart.   Here is his take on Sunny Side of the Street.  Compare it with the clip above and you can hear the influence of Garner.  But also hear this:  Garner has a bass and drums; Booker is playing solo and keeping the rhythm with a powerful left-hand stride. Booker Street

Booker could play so it sounded like two pianos.  By himself, he could juggle as many riffs as the boogie-woogie duo Albert Ammons and Pete Johnson pounded out together.

As you would expect from a New Orleans pianist, he had Professor Longhair down.  But his other influences put him beyond that.  He was classically trained and had a big repertoire of classical pieces that he could play.  In performance he improvised on them in the New Orleans style.  Here he stretches out on Chopin’s Minute Waltz in an improvisation he called the Black Minute Waltz. Black Minute Waltz

Among his influences was Liberace, that popular pianist and showman that piano players loved to hate but secretly wished they could play like.  Liberace would string together medleys in an entertaining fashion and could morph chopsticks into Franz Liszt in just a few bars.

Booker had memorized Liberace solos, and the influence is clear in the way he would string medleys together such as Blues Minuet/Until The Real Thing Comes Along/Baby Won’t You Please Come Home from his album “Junco Partner.”  On this album he plays an affectionate rendition of the Liberace theme song I’ll be Seeing You.

Listen to the manic intro… I’ll Be Seeing You

No discussion of Booker would be complete without a mention of his singing, which was great.  His crackly vocals gave an emotional edge to songs that a more refined performance might lack.  Here’s a perfect example of Booker’s unique vocal style… Black Night

The high point in Booker’s career was his European tour in 1977 and 1978, including an appearance in ’78 at the Montreux International Jazz Festival.  Recordings made during one of the trips were issued on “New Orleans Piano Wizard: Live!” which won the French Grad Prix de Disque de Jazz as best live album.  When Booker was feeling down, he would listen to the enthusiastic applause from this album to lift his spirits.  But although he flourished in Europe, he remained widely unappreciated in the U. S.  And the lure of drugs was something he could not escape from on this side of the pond.

Want to play like Booker?  There is help.  The Joshua Paxton transcriptions published by Hal Leonard are excellent, and the introduction is a great analysis of the Booker style.  Since I have tried to play them I will offer some hard-earned advice.  Play lightly.  Bounce your fingers on the keys.  Use the transcription as your guide, but remember that not all notes are of equal importance.  Listen to the recordings.   It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.  And remember, you’ll never play as good as James Booker.

Finally, here is a youtube video of a performance from the European Tour.  Booker plays a composition of his own, Pixie.  Notice the impassive calm in his face as he rolls off one intricate riff after another.  Notice how his hands barely move.  No flying hands a la Liberace.  So many notes with seeming ease.  And then notice the delight expressed by the crowd at the end.  Here they had found the true master.

Strung Out for the Holidays… Times are still tough, especially here in Northeast Ohio.  If you can find a way to give during this holiday season, think about donating to your local foodbank.  And, if you live in the Rubber City, musician Ryan Humbert has an offer you can’t refuse:  join him and his 13-piece acoustic band on Saturday, December 12, at the historic Civic Theater for a special holiday-themed show benefitting the Akron Canton Regional Foodbank.  Tickets are $20 reserved ($15 group reserved) and $15 general admission.  For more information, go here.