Tag Archives: Soul

The Buckinghams: The Complete Hit Singles

Buckinghams_TheCompleteHitSInglesThe original recordings, but not the original mono singles

It took Chicago’s Buckinghams five tries to crack the singles chart. Their second single, a 1966 cover of James Brown’s “I’ll Go Crazy,” bubbled under, but their fifth release, “Kind of a Drag” raced up the Billboard chart to sit in the top spot for two weeks in February 1967. The group continued to chart through 1969, with their last entry, “It’s a Beautiful Day,” creeping up to #126. In between, they clicked with four more pop icons in 1967, “Don’t You Care,” “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy,” “Hey Baby (They’re Playing Our Song” and “Susan,” and posted several lower-charting singles – all of which are included here – on the charts.

The Buckinghams built their initial success with six superb singles and an album on the Chicago-based U.S.A. Records label. The album was released in both mono and stereo, but the singles, which were aimed at AM radio, were released only in mono. Varese has included all six of the A-sides, but, as has generally been the case for the Buckinghams in the digital age, the less impactful stereo mixes are used. Apparently Sony (who owns the recordings) wouldn’t or couldn’t produce the mono masters. And that’s a shame, as the wide stereo mixes dissipate much of the energy conjured by the hot mono singles. Also a question mark is the last of the group’s U.S.A. singles, “Summertime,” which is offered at the album’s 3:53 length, rather than the single’s reported 2:17 edit. Perhaps only the DJ single was edited, but if so, it would have made a nice inclusion.

The group moved to Columbia Records, where they produced three albums and nine singles, the latter of which are included here, again in stereo. The one novelty among the Columbia material is an edited version of the hit “Susan.” Originally issued with a thirty-second instrumental freakout inserted by the group’s producer, the single was reissued in edited form, and it’s the latter that’s included here. Beyond the hits scored for Columbia, the group had several fine singles that charted lower or not at all, including “Back in Love Again” (which turned up the following year as a “moldy oldy” on Chicago’s Kiddie-A-Go-Go!), the bubblegum soul “Where Did You Come From,” light-psych “This is How Much I Love You” and two more non-LP sides.

Other than “Susan” (and the inclusion of “Summertime”), these recordings appear to be the same as released on the earlier Mercy, Mercy, Mercy compilation. What distinguishes this set from Mercy are the stereo mixes. When Mercy was produced, a number of tracks were remixed by Vic Anesini; Varese asked Sony for the original period mixes, and assuming that’s what they received, they’re a great addition to the group’s digital canon. The absence of original mono singles, particularly for the U.S.A. sides, merits a more accurate title for this collection, but the 12-page booklet includes rare photos and excellent liner notes by Clark Besch, and Steve Massie’s remaster sounds great. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

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Continental Drifters: Drifted – In the Beginning & Beyond

ContinentalDrifters_DriftedNot so odd odds ‘n’ sods from superb Americana collective

The Continental Drifters publicity often hung on the renown of the Bangles’ Vicki Peterson, the Cowsills’ Susan Cowsill and the dB’s Peter Holsapple, but the music and musicianship of this collective was deeper and broader than its three most famous members. Among its riches were multiple lead vocalists, stellar instrumentalists, the contributions of multiple songwriters and the forge of collective musical sensibility. The group’s formation in Los Angeles and relocation to New Orleans magnified that rich bounty of talent in a confluence that drew both from West Coast and Southern roots.

Omnivore’s two-CD set offers a wealth of rare material that will gratify the band’s many fans. Disc 1 features early material, including from their import-only debut, demos and alternate mixes. At times, the group’s early recordings sound like the Band plugging Little Feat’s instruments into Buffalo Springfield’s amps in a Los Angeles club built in Mississippi. But you can also hear the melodic echoes of the Bangles and Cowsills in Susan Cowsill’s mesmerizing “The Rain Song,” deep soul in Carlo Nuccio’s organ-lined “Here I Am,” and heart-wrenching balladry in Ray Ganucheau’s “I Didn’t Want To Lie.” This was a band with no shortage of excellent original material or musical imagination.

Disc 2 focuses entirely on the band’s way with cover tunes, collecting tracks from tribute albums (including their entire Listen Listen EP tribute to Sandy Denny And Richard Thompson), European imports and live recordings. Their taste in covers was both exquisite and broad, including material from obvious sources like Gram Parsons, Lucinda Williams and Neil Young, and less obvious sources, like Tommy James (Alive and Kicking’s 1970 hit “Tighter, Tighter”), Brian Wilson (Surfin USA’s brilliant, bittersweet album track, “Farmer’s Daughter”), and William Bell (a country-harmony arrangement of Otis Redding’s “You Don’t Miss Your Water”). Their multi-vocalist arrangements of “Dedicated to the One I Love” and “I Can’t Let Go” are dreamy and joyous.

Even in compilation form, with material drawn from across time, geography, lineups and projects, there’s a unity of purpose that holds this all together. It’s a testament to both the band and the collection’s producers, Pat Thomas and Cheryl Pawalski, that the group’s disparate musical interests fit together so easily and remain so timeless. The inclusion of live and cover material shows how the group’s versatility turned their shows from a mere recitation of studio material into a dynamic revue. This two-hour ten-minute collection includes a twenty-page booklet highlighted by fresh notes from the band members and detailed discographical data. This is an essential bookend to the group’s previously released albums. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

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Steppenwolf: The ABC/Dunhill Singles Collection

Steppenwolf_ABCDunhillSinglesA treasure trove for Steppenwolf and John Kay fans

Steppenwolf’s residual radio legacy – “Born to Be Wild” and “Magic Carpet Ride” – may fairly represent their brand of hard-rocking psychedelia, but it simultaneously over-represents their otherwise modest results as a singles band, and under-represents their enormous success as an album act. These two towering hits overshadow four years of gold-selling albums and a string of mid-charting singles that deserved a bigger stage. Real Gone’s two-disc set assembles Steppenwolf’s ABC/Dunhill A’s and B’s (except for “Monster,” which uses the full “Monster/Suicide/America” album track in place of the shorter single edit), alternate B-sides, and John Kay’s solo singles into a compelling recitation of the group’s lesser known singles and adventurous flipsides.

Beyond the two big hits, a few of the groups singles remain familiar. Their second release, a funky rock cover of Don Covay’s “Sookie Sookie,” failed to chart, but gained airplay on soul stations, their chilling take on Hoyt Axton’s “The Pusher” graced the opening scene of Easy Rider, and “Rock Me” closed out their top ten run in 1969. Nine more singles over the next couple of years brought some musical highlights, but only middling chart success, topped by 1969’s “Move Over.” AM radio was a big tent in the early ‘70s, and though there was still space for rock music, apparently the Doors, Who, Alice Cooper and Led Zeppelin had sharper commercial elbows than Steppenwolf. But even though the group’s singles stalled midway up the charts, their albums continued to sell and their popularity as a concert draw resulted in a gold-selling live LP.

The group’s B-sides often provided more musical reach than the A’s. Goldy McJohn’s signature organ provides an ominous underpinning, and John Kay’s gruff, bluesy vocal was well spent on producer Gabriel Mekler’s “Happy Birthday,” the original “Power Play” has a Dylan-esque meter and showcases then newly-added lead guitarist Larry Byrom, snappy horns were added to the instrumental B-side “Earschplittenloudenboomer.” and the arrangement turns acoustic for the string quartet backed “Spiritual Fantasy.” There’s was also a lengthy experimental instrumental, “For Madmen Only,” which was replaced as the B-side of Mars Bonfire’s “Ride With Me” by the more conventional “Black Pit.” The top sides had their adventurous moments, including the Kustom Electronics’ “The Bag” talk box used on “Hey Lawdy Mama” and a superb take on Hoyt Axton’s anti-drug “Snowblind Friend.”

In 1972, Steppenwolf disbanded, and Dunhill retained John Kay as a solo artist. His work combined originals and covers drawn from a surprising range of sources, leading off with a heavy cover of Hank Snow’s “Movin’ On.” Kay also covered Hank Williams’ wounded “You Win Again,” Alan O’Day’s “Easy Evil” and Five Man Electrical Band’s “Moonshine (Friend of Mine).” Kay’s voice is easily recognized, but freed from the legacy of Steppenwolf’s “heavy metal thunder,” he finds resonance with Richard Podolar’s spacious and more gentle productions. The combination is particularly effective on Kay’s fine country, folk and soul-tinged originals “Walk Beside Me,” “Somebody” and “Nobody Lives Here Anymore.”

This is a terrific set for the band’s fans, with mono singles mixes used for disc one (except track 15), and nearly half of disc two (3-5, 8-9 and 14-15), and true stereo for the rest. Those seeking the band’s hits are better off with a single disc collection (or even bargain priced copies of their first two albums), but fans will really enjoy this view of the band and John Kay’s early solo work. The latter may be the set’s biggest surprise, particularly for those weaned only on Steppenwolf’s radio hits. The generous running time (77:48 for disc 1, 69:26 for disc 2), is complemented by a 24-page booklet that’s stuffed with photos and intimate liner notes by John Kay. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

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Dusty Springfield: Come for a Dream – The U.K. Sessions 1970-1971

DustySpringfield_ComeForADreamDusty Springfield’s little-known 1970-71 UK sessions

It takes a star of nearly unparalleled stature to hold separate recording contracts for the U.S. and the rest of the world, each on its own label, and each producing its own sessions and releases. But that’s just how Dusty Springfield was situated when her stateside contract with Philips expired in 1968, and a new U.S.-only contract was struck with Atlantic. Philips retained the right to record and release Springfield’s records outside the U.S., as well as gaining access to material recorded by Atlantic. Atlantic gained a reciprocal right to Philips-recorded material, but opted to stick with their own sessions, leaving a period of Springfield’s UK late-60s and early-70s work unfamiliar to American ears. The intervening decades have seen most of this material released on U.S. compilations, but not always in collections that reflect the original sessions or artistic intent.

Earlier this year, Real Gone expanded Springfield’s early-70s catalog with the lost Atlantic album Faithful, and they now hop the pond to collect  material from UK sessions that formed the core of the 1972 Philips-released See All Her Faces. Philips combined nine tracks from UK sessions with a handful of Atlantic singles and B-sides to create an album with numerous high points, but neither a great deal of consistency, nor a full-telling of Springfield’s London session work. Rhino collected much of the UK material on 1999’s Dusty in London, but by zeroing in on 1970-71, and adding three tracks left off the Rhino collection (“Goodbye,” “Girls Can’t Do What the Guys Do,” “Go My Love”) and a rehearsal construction of “O-o-h Child,” Real Gone has fashioned a disc that tells a more coherent story than either Philips’ 1972 album or Rhino’s later compilation.

Springfield was always soulful, even as her material stretched across sambas, film themes and pop, and her style was so unique as to possess even well-known material like Leon Russell’s “A Song For You,” Goffin and King’s “Wasn’t Born to Follow” and the Young Rascals’ “How Can I Be Sure.” The smokiness of her voice was an obvious fit for soul songs “Crumbs Off the Table” and “Girls it Ain’t Easy,” but also perfectly suited to sambas by Antonio Carlos Jobim (“Come For a Dream”) and Spike Milligan (“Goodbye”), film themes (“I Start Counting”) and sophisticated pop (Jimmy Webb’s “Mixed Up Girl” and Charles Aznavour’s “Yesterday When I Was Young”). The album’s orchestrations (variously by Jimmy Horowitz, Peter Knight, Keith Mansfield, Derek Wadsworth and Wally Stott) include strings and horns that provide a perfect pocket for Springfield’s voice.

Springfield temporarily abandoned the 1970 album project after initial July sessions, shifting to the U.S. to record with Jeff Barry, and not returning until late 1971 to finish “Sweet Inspiration” and record “A Song For You” and a rehearsal of “O-o-h Child.” The material from the 1970-71 UK sessions was smartly selected from a wide spectrum of styles and sources, and if not entirely consistent as an album, the individual performances show off the stylistic flexibility of Springfield’s voice and her broad artistic reach. Joe Marchese’s liner notes provide career context, session-by-session and song-by-song notes, and the keen observation that pulling these orphaned sessions together finally gives them a proper home. This is a great set for Springfield fans that haven’t already assembled the tracks from multiple other releases. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Chris Foreman: Now is the Time

ChrisForeman_NowIsTheTimeSoul time on the Hammond B3

There are few musical sounds as deeply enveloping as the Hammond B3. Whether it’s murmuring warmly, rumbling at its bottom end or stabbing percussively with notes that sound like raw alternating current, the B3 is unmistakable. The Hammond’s variable tones contrast with the imitative voices of other organs, and require both a player’s technique and an artist’s imagination to shape sounds beyond well-defined stops. Moving from piano to organ is a leap, but moving from a standard organ to a B3 requires the player to develop a personal relationship with the instrument.

Chris Foreman is a Chicago-based organist whose style descends (as do most B3 players) from the epochal Jimmy Smith, along with Jimmy McGriff, “Brother” Jack McDuff, Shirley Scott, Richard “Groove” Holmes and others. He’s most regularly heard at his weekly gigs at the Southside’s Green Mill and St. James African Methodist Episcopal church, and on record with the Deep Blue Organ Trio. The trio’s renown expanded beyond the Windy City a few years ago with an opening slot on Steely Dan’s 2013 U.S. tour, and Foreman ventures forward now with this new album of duets.

The organ is able to stand on its own, provide the centerpoint of trios, or add muscle to larger groups. In duet settings it needs to converse, to ensure that it doesn’t overwhelm its partner. Foreman is skilled at playing both lead and accompaniment, stepping into the initial spotlight with fleet fingers and bold chords for the opening take on Charlie Parker’s “Now is the Time.” He edges slowly into “Shake a Hand,” with a late-night groove that favors Freddy Scott over Little Richard, underlining the piano with his organ and decorating the organ with the piano’s flourishes. You can catch occasional touches of Foreman’s classical training in his fingerings, but he’s never mannered; everything he plays truly swings.

Guitarist Andy Brown and saxophonist Diane Ellis guest on several tracks, providing worthy foils for Foreman’s B3. Brown kicks off a sprightly version of Doc Pomus’ “Lonely Avenue” before giving way to Foreman’s blue chords. Forman returns the favor as he vamps sympathetically behind Brown’s solo, and the two join together for a bridge that leads to Forman’s second variation on the song’s main theme. As someone who plays a weekly club gig, Foreman’s developed a wide-ranging repertoire, drawing upon tunes from Neal Hefti (the atmospheric “Li’L Darlin’”), saxophonist Hank Crawford (“The Peeper,” with Ellis as soloist) and Jimmy McGriff (“Doggone” and “Cotton Boy Blues”).

The organ can evoke memories of churches, movie theaters, county fairs, baseball parks, old-timey pizza restaurants, skating rinks, mall stores, or, perhaps most damning, you father’s den. But it can also evoke the soul of the blues like no other instrument, and in the hands of a master like Chris Foreman, the B3’s notes, chords, drones, bass and volume pedals provide otherworldly transportation to a smoky late-night club. Producers Steven Dolins and Jim Dejong, and engineer Steve Yates have done a superb job of capturing the B3’s wide range of volume and timbre, and have nicely balanced the guitar, saxophone and piano in the duets. Anyone who loves the B3 should check this out! [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Major and the Monbacks: Major and the Monbacks

MajorAndTheMonbacks_MajorAndTheMonbacksThrowback horn-fed rock ‘n’ soul

It’s not surprising to find that this Norfolk, Virginia band has gigged for years before committing themselves to a first full-length album. Their passionate, throwback rock ‘n’ soul has clearly been honed for the stage and dance floor, and their combination of pop melodies, organ and horns brings to mind the Southern sounds of early Stax, but also the Northern rock ‘n’ soul of  the Buckinghams, Rascals, Grass Roots, Southside Johnny, Tower of Power and Chicago. There’s a helping of the Band in “Somedays” and “Sunshine,” and the group’s instrumental flights suggest the jazz-funk bumper music of the Saturday Night Live band.

The opening “I Can Hardly Wait” offers the warmth of War’s “Summer,” but with a thicker chart that suggests Muscle Shoals. The band adds Little Feat styled strut to “Annabelle,” and the beseeching testimony of “Don’t Say a Word” recalls Peter Wolf’s more emotional moments. “Be My Baby” nods in Phil Spector’s direction, but is more ‘50s rock ‘n’ roll than ‘60s production pop, while “Magnolia” tips its melodic hat to Buddy Holly’s “Raining in My Heart,” and “She Don’t Knock” offers up blue-eyed soul. These talented players resurrect the festive spark of horn-lined rock ‘n’ soul with irresistible grooves that cut just as deep as those from which they draw inspiration. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

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The Revelers: Get Ready

Revelers_GetReadySouthern Louisiana soul

Formed from members of the Red Stick Ramblers and Pine Leaf Boys, the Revelers cover a lot of Southern musical ground. Their last release, a four-song salute to swamp pop, showed off just one of their many influences. Their latest features all original material that combines zydeco, cajun, southern soul, pop, country, jazz and blues into a wonderfully potent mash. The Revelers mingle their roots into joyful dance music that’s hard to pin down; one can point to a particular accordion, fiddle, throaty saxophone, waltz-time rhythm or Cajun French lyric, but no single element fully defines the Revelers. Think of NRBQ with a stronger Southern pull.

The album’s songs cover the entire lifecycle of love. They caution listeners to “Play it Straight,” but apologetically admit they’ve cheated (“Just When I Thought I Was Dreaming”). They feel unappreciated (“Being Your Clown”), dump ill-fitting mates (“Please Baby Please”), put their troubles behind them (“Outta Sight”), lament their decisions (“Single Jeans”), and find themselves on the receiving end of a scorned lover’s revenge (“You No Longer Want to See Me”). But no matter the subject, there’s a danceable beat, culminating in the album’s closing  “Ayou On Va Danser?” This is a band to see and dance to live, but until you can, a few turns around the living room will have to do. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

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Jackie DeShannon: All the Love – The Lost Atlantic Recordings

JackieDeShannon_AllTheLoveLost 1973 sessions with Tom Dowd and Van Morrison

As a songwriter, Jackie DeShannon had tremendous success throughout the 1960s, but it wasn’t until she recorded 1969’s “Put a Little Love in Your Heart” that she found fame with her own material. But despite the song’s commercial success, the following year’s To Be Free would be her last for Imperial, and after a brief stop at Capitol for 1972’s Songs, producer Jerry Wexler landed her for his Atlantic label. Her two albums, Jackie and Your Baby is a Lady, included both original material and covers, and though artistically satisfying, neither achieved much sales and DeShannon moved on to a short stay at Columbia as her recording career wound down.

Lost in the transition was an album made for Atlantic, but never released. Recorded in 1973 with producer Tom Dowd at the fabled Sound City and Criteria studios, the sessions were a distinct change from Jackie’s strong Memphis flavors. Gone were the backing chorus, strings and the heavier horn charts, and in was a smaller group sound highlighted by a wider choice of material that spanned folk, pop, soul and gospel. In addition to four new DeShannon originals (co-written with Jorge Calderon, a multi-instrumentalist who would famously collaborate with Warren Zevon), the album included well-selected covers of Dylan, Alan O’Day, Christine McVie and others.

With the album in the can and awaiting release, DeShannon did some additional recording with Van Morrison in his home studio. Those sessions yielded four more tracks (15-18 here), of which the Morrison original “Sweet Sixteen” was released as a single, with the Dowd-produced “Speak Out to Me” as the B-side. When the single failing to chart, Atlantic shelved the entire year’s output, and DeShannon eventually began work on her next album. Six of the Dowd tracks (1-3 and 5-7 here), and all four Morrison productions, eventually appeared on Rhino’s 2007 reissue Jackie… Plus, but the rest of the Dowd-produced material remained in the vault until now.

Why Atlantic scrapped the album is unclear. The material is excellent, DeShannon’s performances are strong and Dowd’s production provides soulful support. Perhaps it was the album’s broad reach that gave Atlantic second thoughts, though there are several tracks upon which they could have hung their promotion. DeShannon’s organ-backed take on “Drift Away” was beaten to the market by Dobie Gray’s hit, but “Hydra,” “Grand Canyon Blues” and the album’s superb cover of “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright,” could have found some love on FM. Sadly, the set’s unlisted nineteenth track – a Coke commercial – was probably it’s most heavily broadcast. Real Gone’s done DeShannon’s fans a solid with this anthology, and augmented the ’73 sessions with a 12-page booklet that includes detailed liner note from Joe Marchese. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jackie DeShannon’s Home Page

Jimbo Mathus: Blue Healer

JimboMathus_BlueHealerA head-turning arc through the Southern musical landscape

From the blistering opener, the original “Shoot Out the Lights,” it’s clear that Jimbo Mathus will be laying on hands that have been sanctified by the spirits of all manner of Southern music. With the prodding of Bronson Tew’s drums and and Eric “Roscoe” Ambel’s guitar, Mathus confesses that he’s the sort of person that trouble seems to find. It’s the start of a loosely structured concept album that sees Mathus’ protagonist counting up his sins, seeking the healing powers of the mystical title character, and questioning whether redemption can really even be had.

The story begins with the narrator cocooned in his troubles, but with “Ready to Run,” he emerges into a Springsteen-styled catharsis of urgency, ambition and passion. He aims to vanquish his doubts of redemption, but the struggle isn’t resolved in a simple, linear narrative. His thoughts turn inward with the mystical ponderings of “Coyote” and “Bootheel Witch,” and resurface to find wanton ways still at odds with a commitment to change. “Waiting for the Other Shoe to Fall” documents Saturday night’s revelry, and the closing “Love and Affection” provides Sunday morning’s appeal for forgiveness. In between, “Save It For the Highway” depicts the ongoing struggle between dark and light, and suggests the cycle may have no end.

There are numerous musical threads woven into this album, often within a single piece. The lyrics, guitars and Tex-Mex sounds of “Mama Please” echo David Allen Coe, Merle Haggard and Doug Sahm. The invocation of “Blue Healer” suggests the hoodoo of Dr. John and the dark, melodrama of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. There’s neo-psych guitar, an acoustic love song, spiritual New Orleans R&B, and even a great, noisy jam playing out “Bootheel Witch.”. This is music made by someone steeped in Southern styles; someone whose education was as much atmosphere as lesson plan. The fluency with which Mathus navigates his influences will come as no surprise to his fans, but even they may be floored by how fluidly it all comes together. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jimbo Mathus’ Home Page

Curtis Knight & The Squires: You Can’t Use My Name – The RSVP/PPX Sessions

CurtisKnightAndTheSquires_YouCan'tUseMyNameJimi Hendrix’s early recordings as an R&B sideman

Before he was Jimi, he was Jimmy; and before his name was above the title, he was a sideman, playing guitar for the Isley Brothers, Don Covay, Little Richard and others. In late 1965 and early 1966 (and again for a jam session in 1967), Hendrix performed and recorded with Harlem R&B singer Curtis Knight, and through Knight met and signed with manager Ed Chalpin. That contract, which became entangled with a subsequent 1966 contract with Chas Chandler, resulted in these early recordings being misrepresented and shoddily released (and re-released) in the wake of Hendrix’s solo success. During his lifetime, Hendrix was offended that these recordings were passed off as his own artistic creations, but in retrospect they provide a valuable look at his climb up the professional ladder to stardom.

Four of these tracks were released in 1966 as singles on the RSVP label. The first, “How Would You Feel,” riffs on Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone,” with new lyrics that invoke issues of racism and the on-going struggle for equality. The second single, instrumentals “Hornet’s Nest” and “Knock Yourself Out,” represents Hendrix’s first commercial release as a songwriter. Neither single made any commercial, chart nor critical impact at the time, and the rest of the tracks remained in the vault until Hendrix’s fame blew up in 1967. At that point Chalpin began issuing albums that seemed to intentionally obscure the material’s provenance, giving Hendrix credit over Knight, and using cover photos that post-dated the sessions by two years. This continued off and on for decades, until the family-run Experience Hendrix organization finally acquired control in 2003.

Remixed by Hendrix engineer Eddie Kramer to reflect the sound of the times in which they were recorded, and presented accurately with Hendrix as a sideman, these tracks become an essential element of the Hendrix legacy. Stripping away the coattail hucksterism of earlier releases, this volume shows a side of Hendrix’s guitar playing that would soon be overshadowed by his on-going invention. Knight is an adequate vocalist and the material is bouncy, if not particularly inspiring, and as a sideman, there was only so much Hendrix could do to add juice. Knight gets originality points for working the audience through the Jerk, Bo Diddley, Mashed Potato and Monkey on “Simon Says,” as well as for setting the classic nonsense poem “One Bright Day in the Middle of the Night” to a stomping Bo Diddley beat on “Strange Things.”

As a backing player in an R&B band, Hendrix was limited in what and where he could play, but he’s still Hendrix, and you can’t help but listen as he vamps rhythm chords, chicken picks or plays with a springy Ike Turner-styled tone. Hendrix gets numerous opportunities to play lead, and distinguishes himself with concise solos that make the most of a tight spot in someone else’s four-minute song. It’s not the revelatory work of his solo years, but neither is it a journeyman merely filling time. Three of the set’s instrumentals – “No Such Animal,” the hard-driving “Hornet’s Nest,” and the nearly seven-minute unedited version of “Knock Yourself Out (Flying On Instruments)” – provide room for Hendrix to stretch out and show just how good he was as a relatively straight R&B guitarist.

Engineer Eddie Kramer has rescued these tapes from the edits, overdubs and poor mixes of earlier vinyl issues, restoring their vitality and returning them as close to their original state as one could hope for. The drums remain a bit muddy in the background – most likely a product of the original recording- but the bass is fluid and strong, and the guitars and organ have some real sting. With forty studio masters and stage recordings to choose from, this volume promises to be the first of several, which makes the track selection a bit of an overview, and the sequencing a bit of a puzzle. The set features tracks from the late ‘65 and early ‘66 dates, as produced by Ed Chalpin, instrumental sessions produced by Jerry Simon, and a couple of pieces from a 1967 session that was recorded amidst Hendrix’s legal wrangling with Chalpin. The latter includes studio chatter in which Hendrix admonishes Chalpin not to use his name to sell these recordings, and “Gloomy Monday,” which was recorded four days after Hendrix was served with a lawsuit by Chalpin.

The 16-page booklet includes interesting liner notes by John McDermott and numerous photos; what’s missing is track-specific session data that would draw a clearer picture of what’s here, what’s missing, and why the tracks are sequenced as they are. In particular, tracks that were issued as singles are spread throughout the set, which may represent their session order, or may just be the reissue producers’ idea of good musical flow. With the painstaking attention paid to restoring the audio, it would be helpful to know the recording dates, as well as the selection process for this particular sampling from the vault. That said, the truth is in the grooves, and with Ed Chalpin’s machinations stripped away, fans can finally enjoy these recordings as a legitimate part of Hendrix’s path to stardom. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jimi Hendrix’s Home Page