Tag Archives: Rock ‘n’ Roll

Little Richard: The Second Coming

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LittleRichard_SecondComingLittle Richard’s final album on Reprise finds New Orleans funk ‘n’ roll

After the Muscle Shoals swamp-rock of 1970’s The Rill Thing and the misfire mélange of ‘50s rock and ‘70s R&B on 1971’s King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, Richard third’s and final album for Reprise splits the difference. The rock ‘n’ roll sides, recorded with many of the New Orleans players who backed Richard’s 1950s sessions, are shorn of the dated neo-disco touches H.B. Barnum added to the preceding album, and though the grooves never cut as deep as the earlier Muscle Shoals session, there’s a good helping of funk here. Lee Allen provides fat sax tone, and Earl Palmer anchors the second line beats with greatest of ease.

Producer Bumps Blackwell’s work is more huskhy here than on his and Richard’s seminal mid-50s sides, mixing the funky jazz sounds of New Orleans with a bit of Stax soul. As on the Muscle Shoals sessions, Richard sounds comfortable, if not always as energized. “When the Saints Go Marching In” is ignited by Richard’s revival-pitch vocal and superb playing by both Palmer and Allen, and the funk continues on the mostly instrumental “Nuki Suki,” with Richard’s clavinet and the saxophone’s yelps giving way to short, lascivious vocal breaks.

A wah-wah-and-bass groove provides the foundation of “Prophet of Peace,” and the closing “Sanctified, Satisfied Toe-Tapper” is a seven-minute instrumental. The album’s most unusual track is a co-write with Sneaky Pete Kleinow, “It Ain’t What You Do, It’s the Way You Do It,” featuring Kleinow’s steel guitar. Richard and Blackwell’s original rock ‘n’ roll grooves show themselves on “Rockin’ Rockin’ Boogie” and “Thomasine.” While this isn’t as inventive or forward thinking as The Rill Thing, it’s a great deal more solid than King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, and deserved larger commercial success at the time. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

Little Richard: King of Rock ‘n’ Roll

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LittleRichard_KingOfRockNRollLittle Richard’s second Reprise album treads water

After his Reprise debut, 1970’s swamp-funk infused The Rill Thing, failed to garner commercial attention, Little Richard hooked up with mainstream producer H.B. Barnum and crafted an updated version of his 1950’s R&B-tinged rock ‘n’ roll sound. This is a more flamboyant and self-celebrating affair than its predecessor, from the album’s title track to the lengthy, self-aggrandizing introduction he gives himself on the cover of Hoyt Axton’s “Joy to the World.” Those who remember Richard’s television appearances in the 1970s (“Shut up!”) will recognize the character here.

As great as were the brassy, bass-heavy arrangements of The Rill Thing, Barnum’s production update doesn’t work. Richard’s belting vocals sound out-of-time against the flaccid, near-disco arrangements of “Joy to the World” and “Brown Sugar.” Better are the funky, hyperventilating reinterpretation of “Dancing in the Street” and the soul shout of “Midnight Special,” though here again the early ‘70s backing vocals are dated. Richard’s original “In the Name” is sung in a compelling croon, and “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” works well in its Stax-styled arrangement.

The album’s closing cover of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Born on the Bayou” fits, but it reveals more about Richard’s impact on John Fogerty than it provides an opportunity to create something new. Richard sounds engaged, but his producer wasn’t able to craft a compelling showcase for his vocals, nor help him select material that offered the best vehicles for interpretation. After the electric jolt forward of The Rill Thing, this album is disappointing for its lack of new vision. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

Little Richard: The Rill Thing

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LittleRichard_RillThingStriking, swampy 1970 comeback from a rock ‘n’ roll icon

Had Little Richard’s rock ‘n’ roll career ended with his 1957 turn to the ministry, he’d still be remembered as a powerful, flamboyant singer who reeled off a string of unforgettable, incendiary singles for Art Rupe’s Specialty Records. His early ‘60s return to rock, fueled in part by attention from the British Invasion, resulted in some good sides in his signature style, but it wasn’t until his 1970 signing with Reprise that he really found an updated sound that made the most of his gospel power and rock ‘n’ roll fire.

Recorded in Muscle Shoals, the rhythm section on these sessions is propulsive and the electric guitars swampy. Richard’s gospel-based belting turns out to be a perfect fit for the solid rhythms, heavy bass lines and superb sax solos. A couple of tracks, notably Esquerita’s “Dew Drop Inn” (kicking off with the drum riff that opened “I Hear You Knockin’”), capture the abandon of Richard’s 1950s sides, but others, such as the album’s lead-off single, “Freedom Blues” and the Allman-styled blues “Two-Time Loser” are funkier and deeper in message.

Richard is in stellar voice throughout, adding a testifying edge to Travis Wammack’s swampy “Greenwood, Mississippi” and belting out the original “Spreadin’ Natta, What’s the Matter?” A New Orleans’ styled cover of “Lovesick Blues” is almost unrecognizable as the song Hank Williams took to the top of the charts, and the closing arrangement of the Beatles “I Saw Her Standing There” adds horns and a Southern sound. The album’s 10-minute title track is a Crusaders-styled instrumental with Richard on electric piano backed by horns, guitar and a punchy rhythm section.

Though the album received a great deal of critical praise at the time, it stiffed commercially, failing to chart and lobbing its two singles shy of the top-40. The world may not have been ready for the second coming of Little Richard, but as this reissue attests, he continued to be a vital singer, songwriter, pianist and arranger whose power and vision weren’t stuck in the past. Though he could have repeated his 1950s hits on the oldies circuit forever, he continued to more forward artistically, even if the market didn’t take notice. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

Various Artists: The Man of Somebody’s Dreams — A Tribute to the Songs of Chris Gaffney

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various_themanofsomebodysdreamsSoulful tribute to Southern California roots legend

Chris Gaffney, who passed away from liver cancer in 2008, was a consummate musical insider. Though he recorded six solo albums, and co-led the Hacienda Brothers with Dave Gonzalez, his reputation remained strongest with among his fellow musicians and songwriters. His contributions as a member of Dave Alvin’s Guilty Men were sufficiently important to lead Alvin to temporarily derail the latter’s performances upon the former’s passing. Gaffney’s synthesis of country, roots rock, Memphis soul and norteño powered not only his own work, but all those with whom he played or who played his songs. His songwriting, singing and accordion took on varying shades as he stood out front, shared the spotlight with Gonzalez, or provided support for Alvin, but he wasn’t a chameleon, he was a straw that stirred the drink.

When Alvin temporarily sidelined the Guilty Men, he spent some time producing this rich, eighteen track tribute to the songs and spirit of his compadre. Many of Gaffney’s Southern California cohorts are here, including Los Lobos, John Doe, Dave Gonzalez and Big Sandy. Also included are leading lights of Americana singer-songwriting, including Joe Ely, Peter Case, Jim Lauderdale, Tom Russell, James McMurtry and Robbie Fulks. More surprising are appearances by Boz Skaggs and a Freddy Fender track borrowed from the Texas Tornados’ 1996 release 4 Aces. Skaggs might seem like the odd man out in this company, but his smooth ’70s soul sound is an excellent match for Gaffney’s Stax-flavored “Midnight Dream.”

Everyone here fits their chosen (or given) song to a tee. Gaffney’s accordion is echoed in Flaco Jimenez’s playing on “The Gardens” and norteño horns are heard in Calexico’s cover of “Frank’s Tavern.” Los Lobos brings a sad romanticism to the album’s waltzing title track and Alejandro Escovedo brings sad memories to “1968.” Jim Lauderdale, Robbie Fulks and John Doe each pour out a glass full of country tears, and Peter Case gives “Six Nights a Week” a roadhouse run-through. Alvin and Gonzalez sing their tracks as if they’re love songs to their departed friend, neither seeming ready to let go, and Dan Penn sings as a proud father who’s outlived his musical progeny.

Gaffney’s musical influences form a collage that’s mirrored by the collection of friends and admirers who’ve gathered to celebrate his life. The number of A-list songwriters who stopped by to sing a favorite from Gaffney’s catalog is a mark of how deeply his songs touch those who understand the nuts and bolts of songwriting craft. That the songs are so perfectly interpretable by others shows that their adoration is well deserved. The album closes with a previously unreleased Gaffney performance of “Guitars of My Dead Friends.” Leave it to a master to write the perfect capstone to his own tribute. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | 1968 Alejandro Escovedo
Chris Gaffney Obituary

Dave Alvin and the Guilty Women: Dave Alvin and the Guilty Women

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davealvin_guiltywomenAlvin kicks up new sparks with guilty women

Having debuted this all-female backing lineup at San Francisco’s Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in 2008, Dave Alvin and his estrogen-packing band have waxed a gem. Christy McWilson and Amy Farris’ harmonies and duets prove compelling partners to Alvin’s baritone on an album of blues, rock, folk and a few surprises. Chief among the surprises is the Cajun fiddle and pedal steel arrangement of Alvin’s “Marie Marie,” rendered so convincingly that it will take you a second to remember the Blasters signature original. From there the group comes out blasting with the galloping electric folk-blues “California’s Burning,” an allegorical tale that provides a requiem for the Golden State’s cash-strapped coffers. Alvin and McWilson duet like Richard and Mimi Fariña here, and Cindy Cashdollar adds some fiery slide playing.

The passing of friend and bandmate Chris Gaffney was one of Alvin’s motivations for forming this alternative to his Guilty Men, and he’s obviously in a reflective, memorial mood. “Downey Girl” remembers fellow Downey high school student Karen Carpenter and in his middle age Alvin finds a sympathetic appraisal of her fame. Nostalgia for young-pup years has always threaded through Alvin’s work, and with “Boss of the Blues” he ties together a nostalgic memory of Joe Turner with Turner’s own nostalgic memories of the golden years of the blues. One of the album’s happiest and transformative memories, of being dropped off at a Jimi Hendrix concert, opens with the “Folsom Prison” rewrite, “My mother told me, be a good boy, and don’t do nothing wrong.”

Christy McWilson (Dynette Set, Pickets) sings lead on a pair of her own originals, “Weight of the World” and “Potter’s Field,” continuing the mood of struggle that pervaded her two Alvin-produced solo albums. A real standout is her up-tempo duet with Alvin on a cover of Tim Hardin’s oft-covered “Don’t Make Promises.” Alvin and McWilson have paired for ’60s covers before, notably Moby Grape’s “805” on 2002’s Bed of Roses, but this one’s extended acoustic guitar jam really hits the mark. The closing cover of “Que Sera, Sera” suggests Alvin may be ready to move past his grief, but the song’s fatalism is strangely at odds with the rocking country blues arrangement.

When he’s not fondly remembering happier times, Alvin sings low through much of the album, reaching a level of quiet introspection on “These Times We’re Living In” that brings to mind Leonard Cohen. The loss of Chris Gaffney has left a mark on Alvin, and for now at least, his music. His backing band is not just a terrifically talented quintet deeply steeped in the roots of their shared music, but a place for Alvin to rest his soul and rethink his relationship to the Guilty Men minus one. This is more than a temporary respite; it’s a revitalizing step towards artistic and personal rediscovery. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Nana and Jimi
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Willie Nile: House of a Thousand Guitars

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willienile_houseNile spins another rock ‘n’ roll classic

Talk about a second wind. Fifteen years after his previous studio effort (1991’s Places I Have Never Been) Nile summoned a life in rock ‘n’ roll as the musical language for his hometown love letter, Streets of New York. Nile seemed to be aging forward and backward at the same time, writing lyrics from the perspective of middle-age and setting them to the fevered musical roots of youth. He was streetwise and urban, a rebel and a student of musical history who could channel the original energies of rock’s founders without sounding retro. Last year’s Live from the Streets of New York flashed back to his breakthrough with a supercharged release party’s live run through.

Nile’s Benjamin Button-like excursion towards the verve and uncensored creativity of youth continues with House of a Thousand Guitars, featuring a dozen songs that capture both the heart of rock ‘n’ roll and the depth of middle-age. The disc opens with a lyrical tribute to Nile’s predecessors that compels his bandmates to sing along on the chorus. The baritone riff that opens “Run” is just one indication that Nile has a universal rock ‘n’ roll fever for the call of guitar, bass and drums. Here again the chorus is catchy enough to sing on its first pass, but the hooks are sticky enough to hum the rest of the day. The rocking continues with the apocalyptic “Doomsday Dance” before Nile catches his breath on the ballads “Love is a Train” and “Her Love Falls Like Rain.”

If there’s a weakness to this album, it’s that some of Nile’s similes are well thumbed, but even these familiar turns are refreshed by the fervor of his vocals, the emotional swell of his melodies and the powerhouse playing of his band. Nile writes brooding and fist-pumping love songs, aware of both the costs and the returns of relationships. The balance sheet on “Now That the War is Over” is more one sided, enumerating with sad clarity the emotional and physical wreckage of armed conflict.  The album closes with an end-of-the-night lullaby inspired by his adopted metropolis, “When the Last Light Goes Out on Broadway.”

All of the promise that Nile showed in his 20s and 30s now seems like an apprenticeship to the blossom of his late 50s. He writes in his title song of a place where “they say there are no broken strings / just some busted hearts and a bee that stings,” and it’s clearly a place he’s not only been living but helping to maintain. Streets of New York may forever remain his artistic pièce de résistance, but with House of a Thousand Guitars he’s served notice that there’s still more rock and roll to be sung. Mark this one down for your end-of-the year best-of list. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Doomsday Dance
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Pat DiNizio: Buddy Holly

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patdinizio_buddyhollySmithereens’ lead singer mourns Buddy Holly

The warmth of Pat DiNizio’s voice is such a perfect fit to Buddy Holly’s “Words of Love” that it makes you feel as if you’re hearing Holly’s original and John Lennon’s cover at the same time. Taken at a slower tempo than either of these earlier versions, without the propulsive handclaps of the Beatles, and with an added string arrangement, this opening track signals the musical eulogy that fills out the rest of the eleven covers. Aside from the doo-wop a cappella closer “That’ll Be the Day,” DiNizio is supported by drums, bass, guitar and the Encore Chamber String Quartet arrangements of Charles Calello.

Holly stretched into strings at the end of his tragically shortened career, with “True Love Ways” and “Guess It Doesn’t Matter Anymore,” but DiNizio takes these ideas and aims them backwards through Holly’s catalog. The results are a great deal heavier than the pizzicato of Holly’s original “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” or the gentle accompaniment of “True Love Ways.” DiNizio’s version of the former is dominated by the storm clouds of a cello, and the latter is transformed from Holly’s lilting dream of a vocal to a low sob ornately filigreed with violins. “Listen to Me” manages to crack a smile amidst its low vocal and strings, and “Raining in My Heart” is more contemplative than distraught.

Holly’s songs have retained their effervescence, and his spirit informed the wry memories of Don McLean’s “American Pie” and inspired the chiming rock ‘n’ roll of the Smithereens. DiNizio directly displayed his affinity early on with 1989’s “Maria Elena” and subsequently with the Smithereens live version of “Well Alright,” but confronting Holly’s absence head-on seems to have made him profoundly sad. Even Calello’s powerful string arrangements can’t rescue DiNizio from his funk as he transforms Holly’s “Everyday” from a lyric of longing to a mournful ode.

Having expected a buoyant celebration of Buddy Holly’s spirit, it was difficult, at first, to adjust to the slowed tempos, brooding vocals and heavy strings. But as the fiftieth anniversary of Holly’s death passes by, and with his hopeful originals readily available on CD, DiNizio’s red-rimmed interpretations provide a moving statement of faith in the enduring importance of Buddy Holly and the emotional wallop his songs still pack to this day. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Words of Love
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Dion: Heroes – Giants of Early Guitar Rock

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dion_giantsofearlyguitarrockAn original rock ‘n’ roll idol salutes his roots

Who would have thought that at the age of 69 that Dion would have this album in him? If his voice doesn’t have the full swagger of earlier years, it’s still incredibly solid and filled with the spirit that lifted him onto the first wave of rock ‘n’ roll. Even more surprising is that Dion’s an accomplished guitarist, and together with Bob Richardson, he salutes the real giants of early guitar rock: Cliff Gallup, James Burton, Scotty Moore and other players whose six-strings provided the sting of many early rock ‘n’ roll classics. Dion’s picked 15 well-known hits from the catalogs of Eddie Cochran, Buddy Holly, Ricky Nelson, The Everly Brothers, Gene Vincent, Del Shannon, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Roy Orbison, Bill Haley and his own “The Wanderer,” and on each he and Richardson highlight their core guitar sounds.

Given Dion’s first-hand experience with these songs and their original artists, these aren’t so much covers as personal renditions of the folk music of his adolescence. Most of us can hazily remember our teenage years, but few expressed it so fully at the time, night-after-night in song. Dion’s recitations of youthful pique, broken hearts, freewheeling joy, feverous love and adolescent braggadocio are obviously much more than distant memories. He cooks with the passion of a hormonal teenager on “Believe What You Say,” aches with longing on “Runaway” and rekindles his own young swagger on “Blue Suede Shoes” and “Who Do You Love.” This is both a stroll down a nostalgic street and a vital new work by an artist forever infused with the emotional fire of rock ‘n’ roll. [©2008 hyperbolium dot com]

Hear “Believe What You Say”

Dion’s Still Got It

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Dion’s latest album, Heroes: Giants of Early Guitar Rock, is a superb tribute to the late-50s and early-60s rock ‘n’ roll stars who were both his early contemporaries and inspirations. His recent interview on Fresh Air is a must listen that finds his voice in superb shape and his rhythm guitar playing a surprisingly little-known talent. Hard to believe he turned 69 in June.

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