Tag Archives: Blues

Hot Tuna: Live at New Orleans House, Berkeley, CA 09/69

A second helping of Hot Tuna’s acoustic blues beginnings

Hot Tuna began as an acoustic off-shoot of the Jefferson Airplane, with bassist Jack Casady and guitarist Jorma Kaukonen joined by harmonica player Will Scarlet. Their 1970 self-titled debut, recorded live the previous year, consisted mostly of traditional folk, blues and ragtime tunes. This 68-minute collection is drawn from the same series of shows as was the debut, but features an entirely different set of performances. The half-dozen titles repeated from Hot Tuna are offered here in distinct versions; a few of these recordings appeared as bonus tracks on Airplane and Hot Tuna releases over the years, but several are offered here for the first time.

Kaukonen’s acoustic picking is mesmerizing throughout and his singing is at ease in this setting. Casady’s electric bass provides both time-keeping and melodic counterweight to Kaukonen’s solo flights. Both players step back to give Scarlet a few opportunities to play some thoughtful leads on harmonica, filling out a fluid and surprisingly complete musical aggregation. Hot Tuna would quickly evolve with the addition of a drummer and violinist, leaving these early performances at the New Orleans House as the central record of their initial vision. This is a terrific introduction to the band’s beginnings for anyone who hasn’t sampled back to their start, and a satisfying second-helping for those who love the debut. Collectors’ Choice’s digipack includes two full-panel color pictures and three pages of excellent liner notes by Richie Unterbergber. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Hot Tuna’s Home Page

Peter Wolf: Midnight Souvenirs

One of rock’s great voices returns with something to say

Peter Wolf’s first new release in eight years will instantly make fans realize just how big a hole his absence left in their lives. It will also make you long for a time when cool rock music was everywhere, could be heard regularly on the radio, and didn’t need adjectives to claim it independent of the mainstream – it was the mainstream. Wolf’s solo works have always retained the fire of his earlier sides with the J. Geils Band, but they were also the product of an adult voice. Together with longtime producer Kenny White, Wolf’s crafted a sleek album of rock music that draws heavily on its R&B, soul and blues roots. He’s written or co-written all but one of the fourteen tracks, and covers Alan Toussaint’s “Everything I Do Gonna Be Funky.” The latter is a perfect vehicle for the Wolf showmanship.

Wolf duets on the opening “Tragedy” with Shelby Lynne, calling, responding and harmonizing as a couple dancing passionately on the razor’s edge between reconciliation and extinction. The song opens with Wolf singing against rich guitars, giving listeners a moment to luxuriate in the qualities of his voice. But as Lynne and the band kick-in, she proves herself the perfect foil and the arrangement builds and subsides with the song’s exhilarated and exhausted emotions. Romantic turmoil and opportunities are considered alongside Wolf’s thoughts on mortality. “There’s Still Time” is resolute in making the best of current opportunities, while “Lying Low” looks forward. The themes twine together in “Green Fields of Summer,” a duet with Neko Case that realizes the actions and relationships of the here and now echoe into the hereafter.

Mostly it’s women that are on Wolf’s mind. He dreams and chases, fights and makes up, keeps an eternal flame in “Always Asking for You” and laments losses in “Then it Leaves us All Behind.” There’s hard-won experience in both his optimism and heartbreak, and he expresses this with humor on the motor-mouthed soul rap “Overnight Lows.” The album closes with a pair of honorifics, the retrospective tribute to Willy DeVille, “The Night Comes Down,” and the beautifully crafted Merle Haggard duet, “It’s Too Late for Me.” Wolf sounds great throughout the album, in good voice and reveling in his blue moods; his new songs are crafted to tell stories with their arrangements as well as their lyrics. Let’s hope the next triumph isn’t eight years away! [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Christine Ohlman & Rebel Montez: The Deep End

SNL singer serves up rock ‘n’ roll with a side of Stax

Rock ‘n’ roll women have always been a sparser commodity than their male counterparts. Even the adjective that describes a forceful rock ‘n’ roll performance discriminates with its anatomical reference. Rock’s had a few chart-topping female stars, including Wanda Jackson, Janis Joplin, Ann Wilson, Joan Jett and Pat Benatar, but the bulk of female rockers labor in day jobs that overshadow their solo output, or work in local obscurity. Patty Scialfa’s better known for her marriage and membership in the E Street Band than for her three releases, Karla DeVito is remembered more for the video she made with Meat Loaf (on which she lip-synched Ellen Foley’s vocal) than her solo album or subsequent song writing, and Ronnie Spector took decades to emerge from the shadow of her former husband and producer.

Christine Ohlman, whose twenty-year gig with the Saturday Night Live Band has put her voice in the ears of millions of listeners, has released six albums and contributed vocals to dozens of projects, yet remains more of a cult favorite than a name star. She sings in a gutsy rock ‘n’ roll voice edged in soul and blues, part Bonnie Raitt and part Genya Raven, with an element of Van Morrison’s early wildness. Her throwback sound combines the romanticism of Brill Building pop and horn-fed Stax muscle (courtesy of the Asbury Jukes’ Chris Anderson and Neal Pawley) into a potent rock ‘n’ roll stew. Her music reaches back to a time when guitars were front and center and bass lines propelled dancers to the floor.

The album opens with Ohlman growling her lovesickness against a twangy variation of the riff from Barrett Strong’s “Money.” She’s drawn to the wrong man, but loyal to a fault, recounting the reasons to break away but lamenting what she’s missing, proclaiming everlasting love and, in the tradition of the Crystals, opening her arms without worry of what others will think. She slings it out with the ease and familiarity of a club singer, working the crowd and drawing listeners close. Ohlman’s band is similarly road-tested (Michael Colbath’s bass playing is particularly notable), and her guests include Ian Hunter, Al Anderson, Eric Ambel, Levon Helm, Dion, and Marshall Crenshaw. Her dozen originals are complemented by covers of Van & Titus’ deep soul “Cry Baby Cry,” Marvin Gaye and Mary Wells’ “What the Matter With You Baby,” and Link Wray’s “Walkin’ Down the Street Called Love.”

Once upon a time, when rock ‘n’ roll thrived on the radio, this album would have spun off several hit singles. But in today’s fragmented music market, and with little room for raw, gutsy guitar-based music, you’ll more likely hear this in the background of a Fox TV show whose music coordinator is tasked with setting a rebellious mood, or perhaps on a celebrity musician’s weekly satellite radio program. Of course, you can also hear Ohlman in her weekly gig on SNL, and perhaps the show’s producers will be so kind as to offer her a spotlight to sing her original songs – songs that stand tall alongside the covers she curates for the band. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | The Deep End
Christine Ohlman’s Home Page
Christine Ohlman’s MySpace Page

Great American Taxi: Reckless Habits

Loosely polished album of country, blues, bluegrass, boogie and rock ‘n’ roll

The second album from this funky jam-band exhibits the same sort of artistic serendipity with which the group was born. In the wake of Leftover Salmon’s demise, front-man Vince Herman hooked up with Chad Staehly and a hand-picked group of local musicians for a charity performance that spawned Great American Taxi. The polished looseness of Leftover Salmon’s jam-band legacy informs the new group’s music, as do the New Orleans influences found on songs like “Baby Hold On” and “Mountain Top,” but there’s a heavier dose of blues and southern rock boogie here. Think of the Grateful Dead at their most driving, Little Feat traipsing through their trademark rhythm ‘n’ roll or The Band playing reflective and bittersweet.

The group’s country tunes, such as the pedal steel-lined “New Madrid,” have more in common with cosmic American music than Leftover Salmon’s string-band influences, and the album’s title track pays twangy tribute to Gram Parsons. “Unpromised Land” suggests what Lynyrd Skynyrd might’ve sounded like as a progressive-bluegrass band, and at six minutes you get a taste of the band’s instrumental jamming. The original “American Beauty” (with its tip of the hat to the Dead) rolls along on an Allman-styled groove. There’s funk, boogie and humor that variously brings to mind the Neville Brothers, Commander Cody and the Morrells, but more than anything there’s an enormous feeling of satisfaction that comes from making music.

The album opens on an optimistic note with the fanciful dreaming of “One of These Days,” and the road warrior of “Unpromised Land” is pained by his longing for someone back home. But really, how bad can you feel when you’re packing a banjo player and a fiddler to cut a jig for you? Even the list of modern-ills that fuel the fast-paced “New Millennium Blues” are rolled out with the matter-of-factness of fatalistic observation rather than the ire of complaint, and the daily grind of a working musician has more fringe benefits than the title “Tough Job” might at first suggest. The group’s guitar, bass and drums are augmented by a four-piece horn section that adds New Orleans-styled brass (leading the march on the bonus instrumental “Parade”), and a trio of backing singers that adds gospel flavor.

This is a seamless hour of confident and self-assured roots music that effortlessly combines country, rock, blues, bluegrass and second-line funk. The instrumental jamming is fluid but focused, limiting the album’s three longest tracks to six minutes and the two instrumentals to fewer than three apiece. The top-line string band sound of Leftover Salmon has given way to sublime country-rock and the flavors of New Orleans. Herman seems tremendously energized by this music, his band is sharp and the guest playing of Barry Sless (pedal steel), Matt Flinner (banjo), the Peak to Freak Horns, and Black Swan Singers provide icing on a sweet cake. Fans of the Dead, Band, Burritos, Byrds and Little Feat, as well as recent acts like the Band of Heathens will love this one. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | One of These Days
Great American Taxi’s Home Page
Great American Taxi’s MySpace Page

Derek Hoke: Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll

Sweet, optimistic country with pop, folk and blues shades

Georgia-born Derek Hoke opens his debut with the album’s bold title declaration: Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll. It’s an immensely catchy song whose pedal steel and thumping honky-tonk beat underline the bittersweet lament of a man who must bid adieu to his first love. Hoke declares his never-ending affection for rock ‘n’ roll even as he falls further into the embrace of country music. He’s confused and heartsick, but like the fatalism of film noir, he can’t fight the impulse to turn down the amps and turn up the twang. He walks away from the big guitars and screaming audiences with sweet sorrow in his heart.

Hoke styles himself a country artist, but there are rich threads of pop, folk and blues to be found in his music. The vibraphone chime of “Hot on the Heels of Love” lay behind a melody that’s equal parts Buddy Holly and early Beatles, and the whistled solo adds to a satisfied, easy-going early-60s mood. Hoke is a pop omnivore who smoothly combines Lyle Lovett’s ambling swing, Marshall Crenshaw’s earnest pop, Dr. John’s rolling funk and Hank Williams’ twang. Mike Daly’s steel nods to Williams’ legendary sideman Don Helms, and Chris Donohue’s double bass add supper-club bottom end to several songs.

At first these seem to be songs of romantic distress, but Hoke’s an optimist who dispels dark clouds with a never-ending view towards the sunny side. The frazzled morning-after of “Rain Rain Rain,” delayed infatuation of “I Think I Really Love You” and unrequited longing of “Still Waiting” are voiced as hope and opportunity rather than defeat, and even the straying lover of “Not Too Late” is given one more chance. Hoke sings of small pleasures (“The Finer Things”) and traipses through a litany of Southern terms of affection (“Sweat Pea,” with Jen Duke singing Loretta Lynn to Hoke’s George Jones) as his songs swing through buoyant rockabilly, acoustic blues and twangy country.

Hoke has steeped in the music of his youth, but also that of his parents’ and grandparents’. His period influences are worn cleverly in guitar strums, bass thumps, vocal harmonies and steel bends, interweaving periods and styles rather than blocking out pieces from whole cloth. His farewell to rock ‘n’ roll takes him back to a time when American music’s roots were still tangled in the same plot of mountain soil. This is a charming record that plays like a vintage radio station hopping from one thing you love to another, alighting long enough to set your toe tapping. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll
Buy Goodbye Rock ‘n’ Roll on Bandcamp
Derek Hoke’s MySpace Page

Here’s the video for “Where’d You Sleep Last Night?”

Joshua Panda: What We Have Sewn

Broad range of folk, blues, and adult-alternative pop and soul

Who is Joshua Panda? A North Carolinian old-timey songster, a folkie troubadour or a suspender-wearing vaudevillian who brings to mind Leon Redbone, John Sebastian, Donovan and Paul McCartney? Yes. Perhaps he’s an adult-alternative pop-soul singer in the vein of John Meyer, John Legend, Van Morrison and Dave Matthews? Well, yes again. Panda sings acoustic folk songs with a piercing vocal purity that recalls Phil Ochs, but also arranges himself amid fully contemporary productions. His debut album of eleven originals is a one-man shuffle through an eclectic collection of music hall ditties, soulful slow-jams, acoustic ballads, bouncy blues, thick modern rock, and chamber pop. He sings sunny day reveries, forlorn country farewells and smooth love songs, often leaning on a contemporary blend of pop, blues and soul. The split between roots and smooth soul is a bit disconcerting, but roots listeners will really enjoy the old-timey “Balloon Song,” the acoustic “Vineyard Love Song” and “Over My Head,” the pedal steel laced “Crazy ‘Bout Rue,” and the bluesy “Buttermilk Hollar.” [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | If I Had a Balloon
MP3 | Vineyard Love Song
Joshua Panda’s Home Page
Joshua Panda’s MySpace Page

Raeburn Flerlage: Chicago Folk- Images of the Sixties Music Scene

Previously unseen photos of 1960s folk, blues and bluegrass scene

Raeburn Flerlage, who passed away in 2002 at the age of 86, was as much a record man as he was a photographer. His decades of work in writing about, promoting, distributing and selling records gave him both an insider’s collection of contacts and a fan’s undying love of musicians and their music. Moving to Chicago in the mid-1940s he placed himself at a well-traveled crossroads for touring artists and, later, ground-zero of the electric blues revolution. He began studying photography in the late-1950s and was given his first assignment (a session with Memphis Slim that found placement in a Folkways record booklet) in 1959.

Flerlage worked primarily as a freelancer, capturing musicians and their audiences at Chicago’s music festivals, concert halls, theaters, college auditoriums and clubs. He was welcomed into rehearsal halls, recording and radio studios, hotel rooms and even musicians’ homes. His photographs appeared in promotional materials, magazines (most notably, Down Beat), and illustrated books that included Charles Keil’s Urban Blues and Robert Palmer’s Deep Blues. In 1971 he started a record distributorship and mostly stopped taking photographs. When his company closed in 1984 he found the demand for his photos increasing, and spent his “retirement” fielding requests from all around the world.

In 2000 ECW elevated Flerlage from photo credits to photographer with the first book dedicated to his photos, Chicago Blues: As Seen From the Inside. His pictures evidenced the comfort and familiarity of someone who’d mingled with musicians on both a professional and personal level, and who’d developed a feel for their lives and their places of work. Fellow photographer Val Wilmer wrote him “No one else has taken the kind of moody action shots that you took in Chicago, so full of atmosphere and so full of the blues.” His photographs were more than just documentation, they were a part of the scene in which musicians created music. Studs Terkel (who’s included in four photos) pointed out that Flerlage was more than a photographer, he was a companion.

This second volume of photographs, despite its title, is not strictly limited to Chicago musicians or folk singers. “Chicago” covers natives, transplants and those touring through the Windy City, and “Folk” encompasses a variety of roots musicians, including guitar toting singer-songwriters, folk groups, blues and gospel singers, bluegrass bands and more. Even those who know Flerlage’s work – either by name or by sight – are unlikely to have seen this part of his catalog. Among the 200-plus photos here, most have never been published before and none duplicate entries in the earlier Chicago Blues.

There are many well-known musicians depicted here, including Odetta, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, Doc Watson, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Bill Monroe, Flatt & Scruggs, Furry Lewis, the Weavers, Mother Maybelle Carter, Mississippi John Hurt and Bob Dylan. They’re captured in the act of creation: playing or singing, entertaining an audience or conversing with fellow artists. Big Joe Williams is shown seated, staring off camera in concentration as his right hand blurs with motion. The Staple Singers are depicted with their mouths open in family harmony and their hands suspended between claps. Flerlage focused on a musician’s internal intimacy, but also expanded his frame to add the context of stage, auditorium, spotlight and audience.

Beyond the most easily recognized names, Flerlage made pictures of lesser-known musicians, as well as those instrumental in Chicago and folk’s music scenes. Highlights include rare shots of blues busker Blind Arvella Gray, radio legend Norman Pellegrini, Old Town School of Music co-founders Win Stracke and Frank Hamilton, Folkways label founder Moe Asch, Appalachian artists Roscoe Holcomb and Frank Proffitt, children’s folk singer Ella Jenkins, field recordist Sam Charters, Sing Out editor Irwin Silver, one-man band Dr. Ross, and dozens more. Flerlage also captured record stores such as Kroch and Brentano’s and Discount Records, blending his work as a photographer with his career in distribution.

The photos range from careful compositions that frame artists in stage light to spontaneous grabs in adverse conditions. Whatever the circumstance, Flerlage caught something about each subject that remains vital on the page fifty years later. The book is printed on heavy, semi-gloss stock, and it’s only real weakness is the lack of expositional text. The 12-page introduction by Ronald D. Cohen provides context on the photographer, but the photo captions provide little detail on the photographed. The pictures are worth seeing on their own, but they would come alive for more readers if the subjects, particularly the local heroes and lesser-known artists, were given a few sentences of explanation. Buy the book, enjoy the photos, and spend some quality time with Google to dig up the stories. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Sugar Blue: Threshold

Contemporary blues and more from harmonica legend

Sugar Blue (born James Whiting) is best known to pop music fans for his harmonica playing on the Rolling Stones’ “Miss You,” but his resume as a blues musician is deep, having played with with Muddy Waters, Brownie McGhee, Roosevelt Sykes, and Willie Dixon throughout the 1970s and 1980s. He recorded a pair of albums as an ex-pat in Paris and returned to the states, where he eventually resumed recording in the mid-90s, laid off for a decade, and picked up a third time with 2007’s Code Blue. Blue grew up in Harlem surrounded by the blue notes of jazz singers, and though his return from Paris landed him in in the company of Chicago’s blues greats, his style remained more fluid and melodic than that which typifies the Windy City’s native harp players.

Blue recalls other instrumentalists without duplicating anyone. He plays runs that suggest the chromatic work of Stevie Wonder and Toots Thieleman, as well as jazz trumpeters and saxophonists, and salutes James Cotton with “Cotton Tree.” His blues are contemporary in melody and arrangement, mixing standard progressions with reggae and funk rhythms, and on “Noel Christmas” he cooks up a New Orleans-style second-line shuffle. His original songs are contemporary in lyric, including “Stop the War,” a funky blues that deftly mixes snippets of famous speeches and news reports with its plea, and “Don’t Call Me” which refers to all manner of modern communication. The Latin-influenced “Average Guy” demonstrates that the daily grind of blue-collar workers can be as oppressive as the down-and-out blues.

The low, slow and pensive “Ramblin’” is a tasty instrumental that has Blue doubling himself on bass harmonica. A pair of covers include a funky version of Junior Wells’ “Messin’ with the Kid” and a hard-Chicago take on Leiber and Stoller’s “Trouble,” memorably performed by Elvis Presley on his 1968 comeback special. The album concludes with the blues-jazz fusion of “Don’t Call Me” and an engaging nineteen-minute interview. Blue’s vocals are strained in spots, but the backing musicians are so adept, and his harmonica playing sufficiently deft as to render this unimportant. Aficionados may find this insufficiently pure for their tastes – there are songs here only peripherally related to the blues – but the quality of Blue’s harp playing and musicality stand tall, whatever the label. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Nightmare
Sugar Blue’s Web Site
Sugar Blue’s MySpace Site

B.J. Thomas: Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head / Everybody’s Out of Town

Thomas tops the charts with Bacharach and David

B.J. Thomas is often remembered for his biggest pop hits, “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” “Hooked on a Feeling,” “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” and “(Hey Won’t You Play) Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song.” But like many artists whose careers were longer than their pop chart success, there’s a lot more to Thomas’ catalog than these four songs. In addition to 1980s success on the country charts, Thomas recorded albums throughout the mid-60s and 70s that turned up lower-charting hit singles and terrific album sides. Collectors’ Choice has gathered Thomas’ first eight solo albums for Scepter as a series of four two-fers, starting with his 1966 label debut, I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, and concluding with 1971’s Billy Joe Thomas.

By the time Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head was released in 1969 Thomas had already recorded two Top-10 hits (“I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” and “Hooked on a Feeling”) and a handful of lower-charting sides. But one hit was a Hank Williams cover and the other subsequently rehomed as a #1 hit for Blue Swede, it was this album’s Bacharach-David title tune that became Thomas’ long-term calling card. The Bacharach-David produced “Raindrops” is a departure in sound from the records Thomas had been making with Chips Moman in Memphis. The ukulele that opens the arrangement immediately announces something different, and Thomas’ delivery is softened along with horns that are Los Angeles smooth rather than Memphis punchy. Two other Bacharach-David productions, “Little Green Apples” and “This Guy’s in Love With You” feature similarly sophisticated pop arrangements.

The album has three tracks produced by Chips Moman, including a cover of Mark James’ “Suspicious Minds.” Moman reused Elvis’ backing track, but remixed in a way that turns the King into a ghost; the arrangement’s extended vocal coda is a great addition. Also good is a soulful take on Jimmy Webb’s “Do What You Gotta Do,” and the Mark James original “Mr. Mailman.” Four tracks produced by Stan Green and Scepter’s A&R head Steve Tyrell fill out the song list, highlighted by a take on “The Greatest Love” that’s musical but too brash to capture the vulnerability of Joe South’s original or Aaron Neville’s cover. The patchwork of three production teams makes this album feel more constructed than Thomas’ two previous outings. There are terrific individual tracks here, but the different album sections feel stitched together and leave Thomas searching for a signature identity.

Following a greatest hits album in early 1970, Thomas returned with Everybody’s Out of Town. The commercial success of “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” carried over, as he launched two more singles onto the Top 40 and found great success on the adult contemporary chart, topping it with “I Just Can’t Help Believing.” Bacharach and David returned to produce a pair of tracks, but their strings, horns and old-timey piano stick out like sore thumbs in sequence with Chip Moman’s Memphis sound. Mark James and Wayne Carson once again contributed songs, and Thomas picked covers that fit well, even if he didn’t find anything revelatory to say with “Everybody’s Talkin’” or “What Does it Take.” Paul Simon’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” was a great pick for the American Studios sound and Thomas sings it with soul.

Collectors’ Choice adds five bonus tracks: two singles, a greatest hits album track and two previously unreleased sides. Best among these is the previously unissued country arrangement of Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil’s “There’s No Holding You” and a horn- and organ-filled take on Little Richard’s “The Girl Can’t Help It.” This album is a more consistent effort than the previous Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head, but Thomas no longer seemed to be progressing under Moman’s direction. Like the preceding album the cover songs and some of the originals feel like album filler. All tracks are stereo, and the set’s 8-page booklet includes liner notes by Mike Ragogna and full-panel reproductions of the album covers. These first-time-on-CD albums offer some of Thomas’ biggest hits, supplemented by fine album tracks and filler. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

B.J. Thomas’ Home Page
B.J. Thomas Fan Page

B.J. Thomas: On My Way / Young and in Love

Texas pop hit-maker finds his soul in Memphis

B.J. Thomas is often remembered for his biggest pop hits, “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” “Hooked on a Feeling,” “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” and “(Hey Won’t You Play) Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song.” But like many artists whose careers were longer than their pop chart success, there’s a lot more to Thomas’ catalog than these four songs. In addition to 1980s success on the country charts, Thomas recorded albums throughout the mid-60s and 70s that turned up lower-charting hit singles and terrific album sides. Collectors’ Choice has gathered Thomas’ first eight solo albums for Scepter as a series of four two-fers, starting with his 1966 label debut, I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, and concluding with 1971’s Billy Joe Thomas.

After his 1966 breakthrough with a slow, pop-soul cover of Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” Thomas’ subsequent singles charted lower and lower, dropping him out of the Top 40 for the latter half of 1966 and all of 1967. He returned in 1968 with On My Way and climbed back to #28 with the mid-tempo love song “The Eyes of a New York Woman.” Thomas was singing in a lower register, sounding remarkably like the Box Tops’ Alex Chilton; the single’s electric sitar even recalls the Box Tops’ “Cry Like a Baby.” That same sitar shines even more brightly opening the album’s breakout hit, “Hooked on a Feeling.” This Mark James penned number subsequently scored a European hit for Jonathan King and a U.S. #1 in 1974 for Blue Swede. King added (and Blue Swede copied) an “ooga chaka” chant and reggae rhythm that give the song a harder edge than Thomas original.

By the time Thomas recorded this pair of albums he’d relocated from Texas to Memphis where he landed at Chips Moman’s American Studio, meeting up with the studuio’s crack band and realizing crisper recordings and more commercially refined arrangements. More importantly, his previous source of original songs, Mark Charron, was replaced by a range of writers that included Ray Stevens, Wayne Carson (who wrote “Soul Deep” and “The Letter” for the Box Tops), Spooner Oldham, Ashford & Simpson, and Mark James (who wrote both singles, and would later write “Suspicious Minds” for Elvis to cut in the very same Memphis studio). Thomas continued to tread a line between pop, country, blues and soul, but the first and last resonated most deeply in his new Memphis setting.

As on his previous albums, Thomas turned a country classic to soul, this time with Ferlin Husky’s mid-50s hit, “Gone.” Since the original was already a ballad, Thomas and crew could only slow it so much and instead focused on a then-contemporary arrangement of reverb and fuzz guitar, strings, deep bass and soulful organ; it all ends up sounding a bit funereal. Better are horn-and-string covers of Jim Reeves’ “Four Walls” and the Platters’ “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” each giving Thomas a chance to really emote. Thomas’ material was notably more mature than his earlier work and reaches to social commentary (and Billy Joel-like stridency) with “Mr. Businessman” and philosophical introspection on “I’ve Been Down This Road Before.” The singer, songs, studio and musicians really fit together nicely for these sessions, but the dependency on covers that fail to expand on the originals keeps this album from being a deeper artistic statement.

1969’s Young and in Love followed the template of its predecessor, combining tunes from Mark James with selections from songwriting legends (Paul Williams, Jimmy Webb, Neil Diamond), and a country hit turned to soul with a cover of Henson Cargill’s “Skip a Rope.” Unlike Thomas’ previous (and next) album, the original material here was good, but failed to burn up the charts: the pop-soul “Pass the Apple Eve” barely made the Top 100, and the ballad “It’s Only Love” only cracked the adult contemporary Top 40. The covers are professional, but again not always artistically definitive; the Carpenters wrenched much more out of “Hurting Each Other” a few years later, and “Solitary Man” didn’t improve on Neil Diamond’s original. Thomas’ connection with the Box Tops is renewed through a cover of Spooner Oldham & Dan Penn’s “I Pray for Rain,” which Chilton and company had recorded a few years earlier.

Chips Moman’s studio and players continue to provide superb accompaniment, furthering Thomas development as a soul singer. The electric sitar wears thin by album’s end, but for the arrangements mostly have a timeless Memphis sound. Collectors’ Choice adds six bonus tracks: a single, three B-sides and two previously unreleased sides. Top of the heap is a cover of Conway Twitty’s (and Wanda Jackson’s) “I May Never Get to Heaven” featuring superb guitar from Reggie Young. Also tasty is a cover of Luther Dixon’s blue “Human” and the airy Mark James waltz “Distant Carolina.” Creepiest is “You Don’t Love Me Anymore,” ending with a frenetic vocal and a railroad train (complete with sound effects) bearing down on the dreaming protagonist. All tracks are stereo except 22, and “I Saw Pity in the Face of a Friend” features some odd panning and phasing. The set’s 8-page booklet includes liner notes by Mike Ragogna and full-panel reproductions of the album covers. These first-time-on-CD albums offer a great picture of Thomas’ emergence as a soul singer. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

B.J. Thomas’ Home Page
B.J. Thomas Fan Page