The Hour Of The Wolf-With Mad Monk
Bluesman Howlin’ Wolf In Mind
CD Review
By Zack James
Howlin’ Wolf, The Hour Of The Wolf,
Jack Callahan made his old high school
corner boy from in front of Jimmy Jack’s Diner in growing up town Riverdale west
of Boston Seth Garth laugh one night when they were tossing down a couple of
high shelf scotches, with water chasers after having just seen one James
Montgomery, the famous blues harmonica player who had learned his trade at the
feet of Little Walter and Junior Dean, perform at the Shell and prove once and
for all that he still had “it.” That “it” not just some far-fetched idea that
Seth had as an old-time music critic when he had first started out in
journalism, started first when he was still in college throwing small pieces
into the American Folk Gazette before
he got his big break with The Eye in
the days when guys like Trick Stearn and Bones Bennett made names for
themselves and dragged the newspaper along with them before the big ebb tide of
the 1970s washed away the glad tidings of the 1960s that everybody had pinned
their hopes on.
No this “it” had some spunk, some
substance to its core and Jack had gone along with Seth on this one. See one
night Jack and Seth had gone to a Big Bill Bloom concert at the Garden and had
come away angry, angry that they had spent their good money on expensive
tickets when Big Bill could no longer carry a tune, Back in the day that had
not mattered as much because the power of his lyrics carried the day. But that
night he was not producing new lyrics, hadn’t done so in ages and was living
off old time nostalgia from the AARP-worthy demographic that still followed him
essentially uncritically. And the fools had clapped their hands off giving him
yet another false life. Jesus. Seth had written a scathing article in the
prestigious American Folk Review
about the event and had hell rain down on him from the editor. (Old biddy
editors he had called them. After that blast Seth resolved to check out as many
of the old time folk and blues singers who were still standing to see if they
still had “it” and let people know what was what (he did not bother to check
out the old time rock and rollers that had started the great jail break-out of
the 1950s since all that were left except Jerry Lee were one hit wonders who
didn’t make the cut).
So James Montgomery got his thumbs up.
Funny some guys, guys like David Bromberg still had it, Jim Kweskin too but
before he passed away Utah Phillips was doddering and the late Etta James was in
different planet. Sad.
Now that you know the score, know what
the old corner boys were up to we can get back to what Jack said that made Seth
laugh. Simple. He just said, “You know as good as James is Howlin’ Wolf would
have had him for lunch and had time for a nap.” And of course Seth had to
agree. Agree for no other reason that he and Jack had been present in a little
side room in Newport, at the big Folk Festival back in 1965 when the Wolf
practically blew the walls of Jericho down when he played How Many More Years practically devouring the harmonica. Now the
Wolf always claimed that he was not a drinking man (had taken the legendary
country blues guys, guys like Son House, his “father,” to task for showing up
drunk and giving the race a bad name) and wasn’t a dope fiend (his term one
time when Seth interviewed him after he had come back from London after playing
on an album with the Stones and Seth had joked that he probably had been stoned
all the time and the Wolf looked at him with evil eyes like don’t go there
sonny boy). But Seth was convinced that that whiff he smelled was not from some
other workshop, the one with the white kids as Howlin’ Wolf put it. (Jim
Kweskin and his jug band as it turned out which was entirely possible as well).
But no way that a living breathing man, a big burly hunk of a man could put
that much energy, that much air, that much bloody sweat (wringing out his
handkerchief drawing torrents when he was done) without some “help.”
So while Seth and Jack would never know
for sure whether the Wolf man was high that famous Newport afternoon they knew
one thing, one laugh making thing, the Wolf would have had James Montgomery for
lunch. And James still had “it.” So you
can bet six two and even the Wolf had it at the end too. If you don’t believe
Seth then listen to this CD and weep for your not having been there back in the
day when the Wolf mopped up the blues floor, made his bones.
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