The Centennial Of Pete Seeger’s Birthday (1919-2014)- For Bob Dylan -Bringing It All Back Home-Bob Dylan

CD REVIEW

Bringing it All Back Home, Bob Dylan, Columbia, 1965

It seems hard to believe now both as to the performer as well as to what was being attempted that anyone would take umbrage at a performer using an electric guitar to tell a folk story (or any story for that matter). It is not necessary to go into all the details of what or what did not happen with Pete Seeger at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 to know that one should be glad, glad as hell, that Bob Dylan continued to listen to his own drummer and carry on a career based on electronic music.

Others have, endlessly, gone on about Bob Dylan’s role as the voice of his generation (and mine), his lyrics and what they do or do not mean and his place in the rock or folk pantheons, or both. I just want to comment on a couple of songs here. Obviously, no one will ever really unravel what the meaning of "Subterranean Homesick Blues" is about except that it has produced one of the most famous lines of the 1960’s- ‘you don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows’ (although if the truth be known you do) that I am fond of using anytime I get a change to use it as a political cutting edge. "Love Minus Zero No Limit" is one of the great modern love songs that will along with a few others define what love,longing and companionship meant for our generation.

Needless to say "Gates of Eden" is the modern equivalent of John Milton’s Paradise Lost (and I do not mean to use that praise hyperbolically). If Milton was explaining the ways of god to man in the aftermath of the defeat of the English Revolution then Dylan was attempting to give his take on the eternal verities for modern times.


John Wesley Harding, Bob Dylan, 1970


Others have, endlessly, gone on about Bob Dylan's role as the voice of his generation (and mine), his lyrics and what they do or do not mean and his place in the rock or folk pantheons, or both. I just want to comment on a couple of songs here. Needless to say this is a theme album centered on the old West that Dylan has written songs about elsewhere as well. That too is part of the American folk heritage. This rather good thematic conception hits right from the opening "John Wesley Harding" (a real, if more villainous, character of the Old West than portrayed here), "All Along the Watchtower" (that was given its definitive cover by Jimi Hendrix) and finishes up with the bittersweet "I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight". Politically, "I Pity The Poor Immigrant" takes on added meaning with today’s immigrant trials and tribulations. Is this Dylan’s best work? No, but it is a worthy effort.

Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol 3, Bob Dylan, 1993


Others have, endlessly, gone on about Bob Dylan's role as the voice of his generation (and mine), his lyrics and what they do or do not mean and his place in the rock or folk pantheons, or both. I just want to comment on a couple of songs here. This is compilation of songs from various, none of them new except the lyrically very well done "Dignity" that tells more about the meanness of modern life than many a novel. Some of the other material of note- "Forever Young" (our anthem as the 1960’s generation grows older) - the surreal "Brownsville Girl" that shows that Dylan could certainly use that stream of consciousness trope to great effect, the flat out rocking of "The Groom Still Waiting At The Altar", the topically political "Hurricane" (about the frame up for murder of the fighter Rubin Carter and the fight to free him-a fight that we can draw lessons from today about the nature of class struggle defense) and from his born-again Christian period a rousing "You Got To Serve Someone". Just a nice cross section of material here.

Highway 61 Revisited, Bob Dylan, Columbia, 1965

Others have, endlessly, gone on about Bob Dylan’s role as the voice of his generation (and mine), his lyrics and what they do or do not mean and his place in the rock or folk pantheons, or both. I just want to mention a couple of points here. Any song that starts out like "Desolation Row" with the line- “ They are selling post cards of the hanging, they’re painting the passports brown” will automatically get my attention every time- and keep it through over 11 minute of stream of consciousness, word play and harmonica energy. If I had to pick my number one favorite Dylan song (and the one that I have listened to the most) this is the one. Start me off with the “ When you're lost in the rain in Juarez ” of "Tom Thumbs Blues" as an appetizer and I am all set for a while. How is that for back-to-back treats- harmonica thrown in gratis?

Having mentioned my two favorites on this album I have hardly completed comment. I am not sure whether Bob Dylan was the voice of the generation of ’68, or whether he wanted to be. However, few can deny that "Like A Rolling Stone" was one of the anthems of our generation- with or without direction home. Highway 61 Revisited has over the years gone up in my estimation as a song with an interesting story line and a very rock beat. Of course, with Dylan one needs some thoughts of lost love, longing and the vagaries of keeping a relationship on course so "Queen Jane Approximately" fits the bill. Well, I could go on and on but you get the point this is a Dylan album you must own. More than that though if you want to get a feel for the trials and tribulations of the 1960’s by one of its best troubadours you NEED this album.

Once Again Haunted By The Question Of Questions-Who Represented The “Voice” Of The Generation Of ’68 When The Deal Went Down-And No It Was Not One Richard Millstone, Oops, Milhous Nixon

By Seth Garth

I have been haunted recently by various references to events in the early 1960s brought to mind by either seeing or hearing those references. First came one out of the blue when I was in Washington, D.C. on other business and I popped in as is my wont to the National Gallery of Art to get an “art bump” after fighting the dearies at the tail-end of the conference that I was attending. I usually enter on the 7^th Street entrance to see what they have new on display on the Ground Floor exhibition areas. This time there was a small exhibit concerning the victims of Birmingham Sunday, 1963 the murder by bombing of a well-known black freedom church in that town and the death of four innocent young black girls and injuries to others. The show itself was a “what if” by a photographer who presented photos of what those young people might have looked like had they not had their precious lives stolen from them by some racist KKK-drenched bastards who never really did get the justice they deserved. The catch here, the impact on me, was these murders and another very disturbing viewing on television at the time, in black and white, of the Birmingham police unleashing dogs, firing water hoses and using the ubiquitous police billy-clubs to beat down on peaceful mostly black youth protesting against the pervasive Mister James Crow system which deprived them of their civil rights.

Those events galvanized me into action from seemingly out of nowhere. At the time I was in high school, in an all-white high school in my growing up town of North Adamsville south of Boston. (That “all white” no mistake despite the nearness to urban Boston since a recent look at the yearbook for my class showed exactly zero blacks out of a class of 515. The nearest we got to a black person was a young immigrant from Lebanon who was a Christian though and was not particularly dark. She, to my surprise, had been a cheer-leader and well-liked). I should also confess, for those who don’t know not having read about a dozen articles  I have done over the past few years in this space, that my “corner boys,” the Irish mostly with a sprinkling of Italians reflecting the two major ethic groups in the town I hung around with then never could figure out why I was so concerned about black people down South when we were living hand to mouth up North. (The vagaries of time have softened some things among them for example nobody uses the “n” word which needs no explanation which was the “term of art” in reference to black people then to not prettify what this crowd was about.)

In many ways I think I only survived by the good graces of Scribe who everybody deferred to on social matters. Not for any heroic purpose but because Scribe was the key to intelligence about what girls were interested in what guys, who was “going” steady, etc. a human grapevine who nobody crossed without suffering exile. What was “heroic” if that can be used in this context was that as a result of those Birmingham images back then I travelled over to the NAACP office on Massachusetts Avenue in Boston to offer my meager services in the civil rights struggle and headed south to deadly North Carolina one summer on a voting drive. I was scared but that was that. My guys never knew that was where I went until many years later long after we had all gotten a better gripe via the U.S. Army and other situations on the question of race and were amazed that I had done that.         

The other recent occurrence that has added fuel to the fire was a segment on NPR’s Morning Edition where they deal with aspects of what amounts to the American Songbook. The segment dealt with the generational influence of folk-singer songwriter Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are A-Changin’ as an anthem for our generation (and its revival of late in newer social movements like the kids getting serious about gun control). No question for those who came of political age early in the 1960s before all hell broke loose this was a definitive summing up song for those of us who were seeking what Bobby Kennedy would later quoting a line of poetry from Alfred Lord Tennyson call “seeking a newer world.” In one song was summed up what we thought about obtuse indifferent authority figures, the status quo, our clueless parents, the social struggles that were defining us and a certain hurried-ness to get to wherever we thought we were going.

I mentioned in that previous commentary that given his subsequent trajectory while Bob Dylan may have wanted to be the reincarnation Plus of Woody Guthrie (which by his long life he can rightly claim) whether he wanted to be, could be, the voice of the Generation of ’68 was problematic. What drove me, is driving me a little crazy is who or what some fifty plus years after all the explosions represented the best of what we had started out to achieve (and were essentially militarily defeated by the ensuing reaction before we could achieve most of it) in those lonely high school halls and college dormitories staying up late at night worrying about the world and our place in the sun.

For a long time, probably far longer than was sensible I believed that it was somebody like Jim Morrison, shaman-like leader of the Doors, who came out of the West Coast winds and headed to our heads in the East. Not Dylan, although he was harbinger of what was to come later in the decade as rock reassembled itself in new garb after some vanilla music hiatus but somebody who embodied the new sensibility that Dylan had unleashed. The real nut though was that I, and not me alone, and not my communal brethren alone either, was the idea that we possessed again probably way past it use by date was that “music was the revolution” by that meaning nothing but the general lifestyle changes through the decade so that the combination of “dropping out” of nine to five society, dope in its many manifestations, kindnesses, good thought and the rapidly evolving music would carry us over the finish line. Guys like Josh Breslin and the late Pete Markin, hard political guys as well as rabid music lovers and dopers, used to laugh at me when I even mentioned that I was held in that sway especially when ebb tide of the counter-cultural movement hit in Nixon times and the bastinado was as likely to be our home as the new Garden. Still Jim Morrison as the “new man” (new human in today speak) made a lot of sense to me although when he fell down like many others to the lure of the dope I started reappraising some of my ideas -worried about that bastinado fate.  

So I’ll be damned right now if I could tell you that we had such a voice, and maybe that was the problem, or a problem which has left us some fifty years later without a good answer. Which only means for others to chime in with their thoughts on this matter.         

Happy Birthday Keith Richards- *The Hoochie Coochie Man- The Blues of Muddy Waters - Muddy Becomes Muddy

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Muddy Waters in performance mode.

CD Review

Muddy Becomes Muddy

Muddy Waters: First Recording Sessions, 1941-1946, In Chronological Order, Document Records, 1991

I have spent very little ink over the past year as I go through some of the great acoustic and electric blues guitars and performers on the iconic Muddy Waters. I have explained elsewhere some of my reasoning for this as well as other personal preferences that I wanted to highlight first. Nevertheless when all is said and done no one who loves the blues in its various incantations can avoid the influence and importance of Muddy’s work.

I will argue here that this little compilation of early, mainly pre-Chicago electric blues Muddy is a worthy historical document on two counts. First, because it is in chronological order it shows the evolution of Muddy’s style from the traditional country blues sound of the Delta that was becoming passé. Secondly, because some of this pre-Chicago sound is, to this reviewer’s ear at least, better than many of his later pieces. As evidence I would point to the pure jam efforts on the classic “Joe Turner’s Blues” and “Pearlie May Blues”. Then move down to “Mean Spider Blues” and “Come To Me Baby”. None of these are in the league of “Mannish Boy” when he got it going but I think this is worthy Muddy. The argument continues.

***On Sugar Mountain"- The Musak Of James Taylor

DVD MUSICAL REVIEW

James Taylor Live At The Beacon Theater, James Taylor and various artists, Columbia Music Video, 1998

Strangely, as a youth caught up in the fervor of the early 1960's folk revival and its aftermath James Taylor the subject of this review was never on my personal radar. I knew the name, knew people who knew him, and had many chances to hear him perform in the old days. I passed. And with the exception of a couple of songs here that remains true. Somehow he is, however, the perfect performer for aging `baby boomers' who have lost the taste for hard-driving, edgy music but still love the old tunes-and memories. Moreover, Taylor is the perfect performer for Public Broadcasting System fundraisers. The PBS fundraising moguls know their demographics.

Oh yes, I listened to Fire and Rain and You Can't Close Your Eyes back in the days like everyone else. That is not the question. I listened to tons of stuff in those days (and now, as well). However, those songs lacked pathos for me then and off of Taylor's performance here at New York's Beacon Theater in 1998 that condition still prevails. Moreover, the covers here like Jimmy Jones' Handy man and Buddy Holly's Not Fade Away point to my problem with Taylor's work. Generally, good workmanlike performances but no "soul". And to these eyes and ears no real stage presence despite the blurb accolades that accompanied the DVD to the contrary. Unless you are a die hard Taylor fan pass this by.


Bonnie Raitt-Road Tested, Bonnie Raitt and various artists, Capitol Records, 1997

Let us take a trip down memory lane to the Boston Common in the summer of that fateful year, 1968. A bunch of us were sitting (on the ground, no less) fairly far back in that locale and then suddenly a woman’s voice came booming through the air. Moreover, she was playing not the female de rigueur acoustic guitar but an electric one. Just like the guys! That, my friends was my introduction to Bonnie Raitt and she has been rockin’, bluesin’ and folkin’ ever since. This San Francisco concert from 1995 brings all those trends together. For Bonnie Raitt fans, or just the casual blues/folk/rock fan this is a treat. When I occasionally call back memories of the 1960’s and say that that was a time when men (and women) played Rock ‘n’ Roll for keeps it is Bonnie that I have in mind as one of the women.

Honestly, after that early introduction to Bonnie on that long ago summer day I did not follow her career that closely for a time although I knew she learned here craft later at the feet of Mississippi Fred McDowell and would catch her at various Cambridge night spots. However, this concert brings all that back. Not only that but the added attractions of Jackson Browne and the legendary blues singer Ruth Brown (a favorite of mine from way back) round out a very nice concert. What’s good here: John Prine’s Angel From Montgomery; Never Make Your Move Too Soon (with Brown); Chris Smither’s Love Me Like A Man and Rock Steady. Nice stuff, well performed with her band and guest artists.


John Prine At Sessions At West 54th, John Prine with Iris Dement and various artists, OnBoy Records, 2001

Over the last several months I have done more musically-oriented reviews that I had expected. One of the themes that keep cropping up is that for some folk/blues-oriented musical artists like Bob Dylan my attachment was immediate, long time and on-going. For other artists like John Prine it has been more of a recently acquired taste. I had, obviously, heard Bonnie Raitt do his Angel From Montgomery but I never associated his name with that song. Then a couple of years ago I happened to listen to his Hello In There and Sam Stone. Yes, this guy has something to say that I wanted to (on some songs, needed to) hear.

This concert represents a small selection of some of his work, although with the exception of Sam Stone, Lake Marie and Hello in There not much in the way of classics, at least that I am familiar with. This concert would thus only rate as a pretty fair performance except that on a few songs like When Two World Collide he is accompanied by Iris Dement (wife of the folksinger/songwriter Greg Brown). Iris is also a recent acquisition. I would travel very far to hear that voice of hers (and have done so). Incidentally, I have seen both these performers in person over the past couple of years- they still have it. Still this is not the DVD that YOU need to understand either talent, but you may want it.

*Once More,The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of John Lee Hooker Doing "I'm Bad Like Jesse James"".

John Lee Hooker: The Definitive Collection, John Lee Hooker, Union Square Music, 2000

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell “Boogie Chillen” is one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. How about the power of “Boom Boom” and “Hard Headed Woman” and the classic Hooker lines of “She’s Long, “She’s Tall”.

*The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of John Lee Hooker Doing "Boogie Chillen".

CD REVIEW

John Lee Hooker: The Real Folk Blues, Chess Records, 1987

I have poured out kudos to the likes of Howlin’ Wolf, Skip James, Son House, Bukka White and an assortment of other legendary male acoustic and electric blues guitar players in this space. I have not, until now, mentioned the name of the legendary blues artist John Lee Hooker, although he belongs up there with those other above-mentioned names. Why? Well, frankly, it is a question of tastes. Other than an occasional song here or there John Lee Hooker does not “speak” to me, a term that means something to me in the blues context. Sure his guitar smokes when he is on. He always had more than enough black and white bands (Canned Heat, for one) clamoring to back him up and certainly his lyrics (with a few “politically incorrect” exceptions common to the genre) drove his message home. But we never connected at that “soul” level the way Wolf, Son House or the recently discovered (by me) Bukka White do. This happens. But I know enough about the blues to know that John Lee Hooker will “speak” to others. Legends are like that.

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell “Stella Mae” is one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. Others may like the much covered “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”. (This may be the best way to state my case- George Thorogood’s version “speaks” to me.) “Peace Lovin’ Man” and “I’m In The Mood” are exemplars of Hooker’s boogie guitar style.

*Again, The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

John Lee Hooker: The Definitive Collection, John Lee Hooker, Union Square Music, 2000

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell “Boogie Chillen” is one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. How about the power of “Boom Boom” and “Hard Headed Woman” and the classic Hooker lines of “She’s Long, “She’s Tall”.


*Once More,The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

The Very Best Of John Lee Hooker, John Lee Hooker, Rhino Records, 1995

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell just the lyrics alone to “I’m Bad Like Jesse James” rates as one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. Others may like the much covered “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”. (This may be the best way to state my case- George Thorogood’s version “speaks” to me.) “Boogie Chillen” and “I’m In The Mood” are exemplars of Hooker’s boogie guitar style.


"Boogie Chillen'" : John Lee Hooker

(John Lee Hooker)

Well my mama she didn't 'low me, just to stay out all night long, oh Lord
Well my mama didn't 'low me, just to stay out all night long
I didn't care what she didn't 'low, I would boogie-woogie anyhow

When I first came to town people, I was walkin' down Hastings Street
Everybody was talkin' about, the Henry Swing Club
I decided I drop in there that night
When I got there, I say, "Yes, people"
They was really havin' a ball!
Yes, I know
Boogie Chillen'!

One night I was layin' down,
I heard mama 'n papa talkin'
I heard papa tell mama, let that boy boogie-woogie,
It's in him, and it got to come out
And I felt so good,
Went on boogie'n just the same


"Tupelo Blues"

(John Lee Hooker)

[Spoken:]
Did you read about the flood?
It happened long time ago, in a little country town, way back in Mississippi
It rained and it rained, it rained both night and day
The people got worried, they began to cry,
"lord have mercy, where can we go now?"
There were women and there was children, screaming and crying,
"lord have mercy and a great disaster, who can we turn to now, but you?"
The great flood of Tupelo, Mississippi
It happened one evenin', one Friday evenin', a long time ago,
It rained and it started rainin'
The people of Tupelo, out on the farm gathering their harvest,
A dark cloud rolled, way back in Tupelo, Mississippi, hmm, hmm

Wasn't that a mighty time,
Wasn't that a mighty time?
Wasn't that a mighty time,
A mighty time, that evenin'?
It rained, both night and day
The poor people that had no place to go, hmm,hmm
A little town, called Tupelo, Mississippi
I never forget it and I know you won't either

"I'm In The Mood"

(John Lee Hooker / Bernard Bessman)

I'm in the mood baby, I'm in the mood for love
I'm in the mood baby, I'm in the mood for love
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood, baby, I'm in the mood for love

I said night time is the right time, to be with the one you love
You know when night come baby, God know, you're so far away
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood baby, I'm in the mood for love
I'm in the mood, in the mood, baby, in the mood for love

I said yes, my mama told me, to leave that girl alone
But my mama didn't know, God know, girl was puttin' down
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood baby, in the mood for love
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood, baby, in the mood for love

One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer lyrics

One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
Hey mister bartender come here
I want another drink and I want it now

My baby she gone, she been gone two night
I ain't seen my baby since night before last
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer

"I'm Mad Again"

(John Lee Hooker)

I had a friend one time, at least I thought I did
Taken that man in my house, give him my food,
Over my table, that I couldn't afford

He come to me, he said 'Johnny, ain't got no place to stay'
I said 'Yes man, come to my house'
I get you a place to stay, and a bed to sleep in,
That I couldn't afford

When I found out, you with my wife,
Now I'm mad, like Al Capone
Well I warned you one time,
Next time I warn you,
I'm gonna use my gun on you
'cause I'm mad with you, hahaha
I'm mad with you, like Al Capone

Look man, I told you one time before
But this time, I'm gonna teach you,
A little lesson, you won't forget
Take this man, right down by, the riverside
I might drown you,
I might shoot you,
I don't know
Gonna tie your hands, gonna tie your feet
Gag you so you can't talk to nobody
I'm mad, rrrrr, I'm mad with you
You're sinkin', I'm mad


"It Hurts Me So"

(John Lee Hooker / Bernard Besman)

That man don't love you, he told me so
He's only doin' that, baby, to break up your home

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

That man don't love you, no he don't
He's only jivin' you little girl, lovin' the girl next door

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so Yeah!.

You know you don't love him, you know you don't
Go ahead and leave me baby, don't make me cry

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

That man don't love you, he told me so
Only jivin' you, baby, breaking up your home

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

So long, baby, I've got to go
Because you don't love me now, darlin', I know you don't

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

"How Long Blues"

(Leroy Carr, arranged by John Lee Hooker)

Standin' at the station when the train come by
Deep down in my heart, baby, feel an achin' pain
How long, oh, baby how long?
Baby how long, baby how long,
Has that evenin' train been gone,
How long, oh, baby how long?

If I could holler like a mountain jack,
I'd go up on the mountain, call my baby back
How long, oh, baby how long?

I could see the green grass,
Growin' up on the hill
But you can't see a green-black drawin' on a,
On a dollar bill
Baby, how long?
Baby how long?

How long, baby how long,
Has that evenin' train been gone?
Baby how long, oh baby how long?
Baby how long, oh baby how long?

*The Godfather Of The Chicago Blues- Willie Dixon Lights Up The Room

Click On Title To Link To Willie Dixon Webpage.

CD REVIEW

I Am The Blues, Willie Dixon, Sony Music Entertainment, 1993

Muddy Waters. Check. Howlin' Wolf. Check. Koko Taylor. Check. Etta James. Check. And on and on. What do they all have in common? Well, they have all covered the music created by the subject of this review, Willie Dixon. Now Mr. Dixon does not spring to mind when one is discussing the classic blues artists that I have filled this space with over the past year or so. In some senses that is right. But there is always the question, and it is posed most sharply here, about the roots of any musical genre, how it was put together and who did that leg work. Now we are in Mr. Dixon's territory. In reviewing a series of DVDs on the "American Folk Blues Concerts" that were performed in Europe in the early 1960's I mentioned his name in passing. I have also mentioned his name as the writer in connection with Howlin' Wolf's classic rendition of "The Little Red Rooster" (later covered by The Rolling Stones) that was my first conscious exposure to electric blues. Here, old Willie is front and center.

Okay, so lets' sum up. Willie wrote great songs, he played a mean bass, and he produced for Chicago's Chess Records some of the most memorable blues recordings of all times. And never got his full recognition or full compensation for that fact. However the treatment of musical artists, and especially blues artists is a subject for another time. Yet, there is no denying his claim as the 'godfather of the blues'. But how does he stand up as a performer in his own right? Well, frankly so-so. On this CD he has a very good back up house band but his vocals fail to carry the effect of his great songs that others have been able to cover so memorably. This is one of those cases where the cover artist is better than the song writer. Still it is nice to see his interpretation of the songs that have been hits for so many others. "Back Door Man", "Spoonful", I'm Your Hoochie Goochie Man" and the above-mentioned "The Little Red Rooster". I can hear Muddy and Wolf now. Ya, but Willie, stand tall; you ARE 'the godfather of the electric blues'. Kudos.


"The Red Rooster" by Willie Dixon

I have a little red rooster, too lazy to crow for day
I have a little red rooster, too lazy to crow for day
Keep everything in the barnyard, upset in every way

Oh the dogs begin to bark, and the hound begin to howl
Oh the dogs begin to bark, hound begin to howl
Ooh watch out strange kind people, cause little red rooster is on the prowl

If you see my little red rooster, please drag him home
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him home
There ain't no peace in the barnyard, since the little red rooster been gone

Wang Dang Doodle
Howlin' Wolf, Koko Taylor

Tell Automatic Slim , tell Razor Totin' Jim
Tell Butcher Knife Totin' Annie, tell Fast Talking Fanny
A we gonna pitch a ball, a down to that union hall
We gonna romp and tromp till midnight
We gonna fuss and fight till daylight
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long, All night long, All night long

Tell Kudu-Crawlin' Red, tell Abyssinian Ned
Tell ol' Pistol Pete, everybody gonna meet
Tonight we need no rest, we really gonna throw a mess
We gonna to break out all of the windows,
we gonna kick down all the doors
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long, All night long, All night long

Tell Fats and Washboard Sam, that everybody gonna to jam
Tell Shaky and Boxcar Joe, we got sawdust on the floor
Tell Peg and Caroline Dye, we gonna have a time
When the fish scent fill the air, there'll be snuff juice everywhere
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long, All night long etc.

by Willie Dixon


SPOONFUL

Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.

Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everything's a-fightin' about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.

Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?

Chorus

Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.

by Willie Dixon

*In The Prime Of The Chicago Blues Explosion- The Film "Cadillac Records"

Click On Title To Link To Chess Records site.

DVD Review

Cadillac Records, starring Adrian Brody as Leonard Chess, Jeffrey Wright as Muddy Waters, Mos Def as Chuck Berry and Beyonce Knowles as Etta James, Sony Music Film, 2008

It seems almost anti-climatic to be reviewing this particular film, Cadillac Records, about the rise of Chess Records and its driving force, owner Leonard Chess, in the maelstrom of the Chicago blues explosion of the 1940's and 1950's. Why? Over the past year or so, along with the usual left wing political books by the likes of Leon Trotsky and James P. Cannon that are the core items that I review in this space, I have been fervently doing a personal search for, and reflection on, the roots of American music. And nothing is more central to an exploration of the American songbook than the various expressions of the blues from its roots in the black quarters of plantation society down South, through to the immense process of black urbanization in the mid-20th century and with it the electrification of the blues and further on the use of that genre to form the basis for Rock `n' Roll that was central to much of the musical history of the last half of that century.

Muddy Waters, Little Walter, Jimmy Reed, Howin'Wolf, Chuck Berry and the divine Ms. Etta James are all names that should be familiar to knowledgeable blues fan and whose fame and fortune, rises and falls form the core of this film. They are also names prominent among those that have been reviewed in this space so this is a real treat. The Chess Record saga is narrated by the actor who plays the producer, "talent hunter", songwriter and musician Willie Dixon, a huge force in the expansion of Chess Records and Chicago blues in general. And this is as it should be. Willie Dixon wrote for both Muddy Waters (the classic "Hoochie Coochie Man", among others) and Howlin' Wolf (the most famous being "The Red Rooster", a song later covered by The Rolling Stones, enthusiastic blues aficionados, and one of my first exposures to the raw electric blues sound. Thanks, Willie). He was also at Chess when the music shifted away from the Chicago blues to the `jump' of rock `n' roll driven by the likes of Chuck Berry who could "crossover" to all those white teenagers like me trying to break out of the music of our parents' generation. He was also there when Ms. Etta James came on the scene with her R&B style that also was an attempt to do that same crossover with a black woman singer.

According to the notes to this film it is based on a true story, that of Leonard Chess and the blues stars mentioned above. How much truth there actually is included in the script is beyond the scope of this review. I would note that one of the segments of Martin Scorsese's PBS multi-part Blues homage in 2003 dealt with the role of Chess Records as part of the total blues picture and featured Leonard Chess's son, Marshall, a record producer in his own right. Some of his comments do not exactly jibe with the presentation of the facts in this film. That is a subject for further research and discovery.

Some important themes, nevertheless, are explored in the film, even if obliquely. The relationship between a young hustling Jew (and his brother, not noted in the film) from Poland trying to make a buck in America and young blacks trying to get out from under the rural "Jim Crow" South in mid-20th century America. The question of interracial sex, both male and female when that was very, very taboo. Martial infidelity, a constant problem in the music industry (and elsewhere). Exploitation of blacks, both financially and musically, by the white-dominated music power structure, including Leonard Chess. The touchy question of black identity and self-respect, addressed very nicely in the tensions between Muddy, as a representative "Uncle Tom", and Howlin' Wolf (or Chuck Berry), as the "New Black Man", coming out of new black consciousness of the civil rights struggle blazing away during that period. Addressing those issues should keep us busy for a while.

Let's finish up with a few kudos, though. A musical tribute to a record company and a famous record producer could have been a piece of fluff. While, as noted above, the film raised a number of questions about what really went on back then the heart of the movie is driven by the blues and the need to express oneself in that genre, whether as a job or a way of life. The performers carried the day. The camaraderie and falling out between Muddy and Little Walter is worked nicely. The struggle's of Etta James (Beyonce is rather fetching here, by the way, as Etta) to break through as an artist works. And so on.

The Cadillac automobile formed a symbol for Americans, black and white, back in these days. The artists presented here deserved their Cadillacs. More enduring though, as noted at the end of the film, all the main players here have been inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame. I challenge anyone to argue against those inclusions. Watch this film and then get on the Internet and download the music. Yes, that's the ticket.


"The Red Rooster" by Willie Dixon

I have a little red rooster, too lazy to crow for day
I have a little red rooster, too lazy to crow for day
Keep everything in the barnyard, upset in every way

Oh the dogs begin to bark, and the hound begin to howl
Oh the dogs begin to bark, hound begin to howl
Ooh watch out strange kind people, cause little red rooster is on the prowl

If you see my little red rooster, please drag him home
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him home
There ain't no peace in the barnyard, since the little red rooster been gone

Wang Dang Doodle
Howlin' Wolf, Koko Taylor

Tell Automatic Slim , tell Razor Totin' Jim
Tell Butcher Knife Totin' Annie, tell Fast Talking Fanny
A we gonna pitch a ball, a down to that union hall
We gonna romp and tromp till midnight
We gonna fuss and fight till daylight
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long, All night long, All night long

Tell Kudu-Crawlin' Red, tell Abyssinian Ned
Tell ol' Pistol Pete, everybody gonna meet
Tonight we need no rest, we really gonna throw a mess
We gonna to break out all of the windows,
we gonna kick down all the doors
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long, All night long, All night long

Tell Fats and Washboard Sam, that everybody gonna to jam
Tell Shaky and Boxcar Joe, we got sawdust on the floor
Tell Peg and Caroline Dye, we gonna have a time
When the fish scent fill the air, there'll be snuff juice everywhere
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long, All night long etc.

by Willie Dixon


SPOONFUL

Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.

Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everything's a-fightin' about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.

Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?

Chorus

Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.

by Willie Dixon

*From The Muisc Archives-Les Paul Is Gone- The Great Granddaddy Of Electric Guitar Music

Click on title to link to Les Paul article from Comcast.

 

*The Bob Dylan Bootleg Legacy- The Royal Albert Hall Concert of 1966- You Do Need The Band To Play The Last Waltz- The Band's LeVon Healms Passes At 71

Click On Title To Link To A YouTube Film Clip Of Bob Dylan And The Band Performing Like A Rolling Stone.

CD REVIEW

Bob Dylan Live 1966: The Bootleg series, Volume 4, “The Royal Albert Hall” Concert, Bob Dylan and The Band, Columbia Records, 1966.

Of all the bootleg, genuine basement tapes, fake basement tapes, etc. that have come out of over the years detailing the career of the premier folk troubadour of his times, Bob Dylan, this volume that contains the bulk of the famous (or infamous, if you are one of those old folk traditionalists who never moved on) English "Royal Albert Hall" Concert of 1966 may be historically the most valuable. Certainly after Martin Scorsese used the concert as a central backdrop to his Dylan documentary "No Direction Home" the argument for its importance in the folk pantheon has been enhanced. The CD issued many years ago prior to Scorsese's effort only confirms that judgment.

Here, in a quick summary, is what the hullabaloo was all about. Many early 1960's folkies were looking for a new "king of the hill" to continue the tradition established by the likes of Woody Guthrie (an early Dylan hero, by the way) and Pete Seeger. Certainly off the first few years of Dylan's rise it looked to one and all, including this reviewer, that Dylan would fill the bill. Then, he switched gears and started to write more starkly personal songs (rather than quasi-political songs like "Blowing In The Wind") and, oh lord here it comes, to use the electric guitar as backup. And worst of all, an electric backup band (the now immortal The Band). You know, with drums and all. "Albert Hall" was one of the first major venues where he presented both concepts, acoustic and electric. The British traditionalists (or at least some of them) were not pleased. But as I have noted elsewhere in earlier reviews of Dylan's work everyone else should be glad, glad as hell, that he made that move.

Needless to say this concert is divided into an acoustic section where he plays some great numbers like "Visions Of Johanna", "Mr. Tambourine Man" and the like. His highlight here is "Desolation Row" an incredible almost surreal use of words and phrases that read more like a poem than a mere song. If I had not been a Dylan fan before this song then the first time I hear "They are selling postcards of the hanging. They are painting the passports brown. The beauty parlor is filled with sailors. The circus is in town" would have caught my attention for life right then and there.

The second, more controversial electric part includes the 1960's semi-national anthem for the counter cultural generation "Like A Rolling Stone" and a good literary companion piece to "Desolation Row" the very fine "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues.” Finally, as an extra bonus if you want to hear Dylan without the slurs that make understanding some of the lyrics in other albums hard this is one for you.

LIKE A ROLLING STONE

Words and Music by Bob Dylan
1965 Warner Bros. Inc
Renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

DESOLATION ROW

Words and Music by Bob Dylan
1965 Warner Bros. Inc
Renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words

And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row

JUST LIKE TOM THUMB'S BLUES

Words and Music by Bob Dylan
1965 Warner Bros. Inc
Renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
And it's Eastertime too
And your gravity fails
And negativity don't pull you through
Don't put on any airs
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
They got some hungry women there
And they really make a mess outa you

Now if you see Saint Annie
Please tell her thanks a lot
I cannot move
My fingers are all in a knot
I don't have the strength
To get up and take another shot
And my best friend, my doctor
Won't even say what it is I've got

Sweet Melinda
The peasants call her the goddess of gloom
She speaks good English
And she invites you up into her room
And you're so kind
And careful not to go to her too soon
And she takes your voice
And leaves you howling at the moon

Up on Housing Project Hill
It's either fortune or fame
You must pick up one or the other
Though neither of them are to be what they claim
If you're lookin' to get silly
You better go back to from where you came
Because the cops don't need you
And man they expect the same

Now all the authorities
They just stand around and boast
How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms
Into leaving his post
And picking up Angel who
Just arrived here from the coast
Who looked so fine at first
But left looking just like a ghost

I started out on burgundy
But soon hit the harder stuff
Everybody said they'd stand behind me
When the game got rough
But the joke was on me
There was nobody even there to call my bluff
I'm going back to New York City
I do believe I've had enough


BALLAD OF A THIN MAN

Words and Music by Bob Dylan
1965 Warner Bros. Inc
Renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

In Honor Of Newport 1965-Muddy Waters Get Righteous At Newport 1960-Parental Guidance Suggested

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Muddy Waters at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1960. With Jimmy Rushing and Otis Spann, among others. Read some of the comments for more information. A seminal blues moment for the old staid Newport crowd (Remember the practical civil war in the 1950s when Duke Ellington went all out in his return to the limelight there). I heard about the performance on the Boston jazz/blue-oriented radio at the time but I was then too young to go. I wish to high heaven I had been there.Wow!

The Postman Always Rings Twice- The Folk Rock Music Of John Prine

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of John Prine performing his classic, Angel From Montgomery.

CD Review

John Prine: The Singing Mailman Delivers, John Prine, OnBoy Records, 2011

Over the last several years I have done more musically-oriented reviews that I had expected to on this site in order to flesh out the role of some of the 1960's cultural icons on the times. One of the themes that have kept cropping up is that for some folk/blues-oriented musical artists like Bob Dylan my attachment was immediate, long time and on-going. For other artists like John Prine it has been more of a recently acquired taste. In fact, my first acquaintance with the work of John Prine, at least that I was aware of, was several years ago when I was requested to get a couple of his CDs for a friend for a Christmas gift. Upon listening to those albums, that included material also produced here from his early live concerts like Hello In There, we both agreed that the best bet was to return them and get something else. Go figure.

But that is not the end of the story. I had, obviously, heard Bonnie Raitt do Prine's Angel From Montgomery long ago but I never associated his name with that song. Then a couple of years ago I happened to listen to that Hello In There mentioned above again and Sam Stone. Anyone whose has been affected by the Vietnam War experience in any way will gasp after hearing this very personal take of the destructiveness of that war for many of those who fought it, found hard drugs, and found the black hole as a result. If you want to hear a real anti-war song rather than something wistful like Where have All The Flowers Gone? and the like then listen to this one. Yes, this guy Prine had something to say that I wanted to (and on some songs, needed to) hear.

This compilation represents a very wide selection of his best work, arguably the best representation of that early work in one location that you could get. Mr. Prine is a good guitar player, a very, very good wordsmith who has produced some poetic turns of phrases here that will have you thinking for a while. Moreover on, for example, “Illegal Smile” he can show his “silly”, nonsensical side. He also frankly, has the wry sense of humor (in the classical Greek sense of that word) of a man who has been pushed around by life, has pushed back; has taken his beatings, dusted himself off and gotten back up again. You know, just the kind of guy that I, and I am sure other guys and gals of a certain age, very definitely can relate to, and in some cases like that Hello In There need to relate to. If you have just one John Prine album to get this is the one. Then start saving your dough to get the others.

In addition to the songs mentioned above listen to his cover of Hank Williams’“Jambalaya” and Prine'sParadise. Also Quiet Man, Souvenirs, and A Good Time.

*Walking With The King- The Blues Of B.B. King With Eric Clapton

Click on the headline to link to a "YouTube" film clip of B.B. King and Eric Clapton performing "Riding With The King".

CD Review

Riding With The King, B.B. King and Eric Clapton, Reprise Records, 2000

Over the past couple of years I have spent a fair amount of time reviewing various blues artists who “spoke” to me when I first got interested in the folksy county blues of the likes of Son House and Skip James back in the folk revival days of the early 1960s. And then the steamy city blues of Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf. Now those last named two came out of the country, the Mississippi Delta cotton country, but when they went north to Chicago and got some electricity they transformed themselves and the genre. No question.

The blues, especially the country blues, got a great impetus from the folk revival of the early 1960s, as the country blues of Son and Skip along with Mississippi John Hurt got more play from young, mainly Northern urban folkies who “discovered” them. The real impetus behind the “discovery” of the likes of Muddy and Wolf, as well as one of the two artists under review here, B.B. King, was the “British invasion”. While we teenagers on this side of the Atlantic were hung up with Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis, and rightly so, the “lads” in England like The Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and the other artist featured here, Eric Clapton, were trying to get every blues record, city or country, they could lay their hands on.

Thus it seems fitting, in a way, that B.B. King and Eric Clapton, clearly two ambassadors for the blues should team up and let it rip through some of the classics of the genre. Now I have a confession to make. Although I have spilled much ink in this space on many old time blues artists, some well known, others strictly for aficionados, I have not mentioned B.B. King, except in passing. This is solely a matter of personal preference. B.B. and his ever present “Lucille”, with the exception of a few early numbers, never really “spoke” to me like Howlin’ Wolf, for one, did.

There is no question, however, that B.B. is a master on the guitar. Nor any question that he is a great bluesman in the old fashion sense and no question that when he teams up with Clapton here they “smoke” on some of the songs. So that only leaves what is good here. Well, certainly the title track, “Riding With The King”, the country blues classic, “Keys To The Highway”, “Worried Life Blues”, and “I Wanna Be”. Those will keep you jumpin’.



"Riding With The King" Lyrics


I dreamed I had a good job and I got well paid,
I blew it all at the penny arcade,
A hundred dollars on a cupid doll,
No pretty chick is gonna make me crawl,

And I teetered the way to the promised land,
Every woman, child and man,
Get your caddilac and a great big diamond ring,
Don't you know you're riding with the king?

He's on a mission of mercy, to the new fronteir,
He's gonna take us all outta' here,
Up to that mansion, on a hill,
Where you can get your prescription pill

And I teetered the way to the promised land,
Everybody clap your hands,
And don't you dirts love the way that he sings?
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
You're riding with the king!
Don't you know you're riding with the king?

A tuxedo and a shining green burning five,
You can see it in his face, the blues is alive,
Tonight everybody's getting their angel wings,
Don't you know you're riding with the king?

I stepped out of Mississippi when I was ten years old,
With a suit cut sharp as a razor and a heart made of gold.
I had a guitar hanging just about waist high,
And I'm gonna play this thing until the day I die.
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
(You're riding with me baby)
(You got good hands)
(Yes, you're riding with the king)
(I wanted to say B.B. King, but you know who the king is)

*A Buddy Guy Encore- From The Chess 50th Anniversary Collection Series

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Buddy Guy performing Robert Johnson's classic "Sweet Home Chicago"

CD Review

Buddy’s Blues: Buddy Guy: The Chess 50th Anniversary Collection, Buddy Guy and various musicians, MCA Records, 1997

I have spent a fair amount of time in this space running through the legends of the Chicago blues explosion that hit its high point in the period just after World War II and continued to the advent of serious rock ‘n’ roll in the mid-1950s, a period that saw the mass migration off the southern farms and plantations of blacks (and poor whites) to the north in search of better paying, and mainly, unionized industrial jobs. Thus, such names as Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, Junior Wells and so on have gotten plenty of ink here. Strangely although the name Buddy Guy has been mentioned here many times this is the first CD by him that is being reviewed in this space. Strange, indeed.

That said, the name Buddy Guy also is usually uttered, reverently, around the same time that one speaks the name of master harmonica player, Junior Wells (Buddy's long time Chicago playing companion). And, of course when you say Junior Wells you, of necessity, have to speak about Muddy Waters, the 'Father' of all the post World War II Chicago blues. Here, however, Buddy stands alone in this 50th Anniversary of Chess Records series. I have reviewed other parts of this series elsewhere and find the material that is presented in each tends, very much so, to be "greatest hits"-type material. That is the case here as well, and I would add that the quality of the sound tends to a a bit better here than on some of the other efforts in this series. Still anyway you can hear that old 1950s blues sound when it was fresh and down grab the opportunity, with both hands.

Buddy Guy almost never has had a bad track so one has to go the other way and try to cull out the best. Here the classic "Pretty Baby is smokin', “My Love Is Real”, and “Stone Crazy” round out my picks as the top numbers.

Buddy Guy
Mustang Sally lyrics

Mustang Sally, guess you better slow your mustang down
Mustang Sally , baby, I guess you better slow your mustang down
You been a runnin' all over town, I guess I'll better put your big feet on the ground, oh yes, I will

All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride

One of these early mornings,
You gonna be wipin' your weepin' eyes, yes you will
I bought you a vintage mustang,
Of nineteen sixty-five
Now you comin' right signifyin' woman, no,
You don't wanna let me ride

Mustang Sally, baby, yeah,
I guess you better slow your mustang down, yes you will darling, I hope you will
Going around running' all over town,
I'm gonna put your big fat feet on the ground, oh yes Sally, well, look at here

All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
All you wanna do is just ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
All you wanna do is just ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
All you wanna do is ride around, Sally
Ride Sally ride
One of these early mornings
You gonna put your bad bad feet on the ground, oh yes I will, Sally

Sally ride Sally ride
Sally ride Sally ride
Ride Sally ride
Ride Sally ride
Ride Sally ride
Ride Sally ride

My Love Is Real lyrics :

My love for you is like, is like a sweet refrain
Real, real true love, is like a burning, burning flame
My love for you will live through storm and rain
My love, my love for you is real.
My love for you, words can never express

My love, my love for you is real.
God, God only knows, that I'll love you, love you best

With only you my love could ever rest
My love for you will live forever
If you love me, love me my darling
My love for you makes me want you near
Forever and a day
Won't you show me in your own sweet way?
Within, within my heart, I really need, need you dear

Sometimes true love can make a, make a man she'd tears
My love for you is real.

Oh, my love, oh my love for you is real.

*Voodoo Blues From The Bayou- The "Voodoo Daddy" Lonnie Brooks Is On Stage

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Lonnie Brooks.

CD Review

Lonnie Brooks: The Voodoo Daddy, Lonnie Brooks (and son Ronnie Baker), Alligator records, 1997

When reviewing various blues artist over the past year in this space I have spilled much ink on places like the Mississippi Delta, Chicago, Memphis and Texas. I have spent very little time talking about Cajun country, the bayous of Louisiana or the Mississippi port town of News Orleans as sources of the blues tradition. When one thinks of the bayous one tends to think of the Cajun-centered accordion or Zydeco music. New Orleans brings to mind jazz more than the blues, except maybe some barrel house influence. That omission seems now to have been flat out wrong as the artist under review, ‘The Voodoo Daddy” Lonnie Brooks, amply demonstrates.

Sure, Lonnie (and on this album his son Ronnie Baker as well) has mastered basic blues lines as any successful electric blues guitarist must but his music has that little extra “funky” edge that one gets when listening to better New Orleans jazz and Zydeco music, especially that big old sax blaring out to beat the band. That is what the Voodoo Daddy brings to the table. Here it starts right out with the first track “Jealous Man” carries through to “Hoodoo She Do” the aptly named “Zydeco” and finishes up nicely with “Rolling Of The Tumbling Dice”. More on this kind of bayou-derived music, especially under the influence of Clifton Chenier who was instrumental in jump starting Lonnie’s career, later. For now listen here- you can heard those swamp sounds from those Lake Charles and environs boys now, can’t you?


"Got Lucky Last Night"

Pretend you're mean as a lion
Wild like a tiger cat
Been lovin' mem so good last night
I almost had a heart attack

chorus:
I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
Played your little game and I got lucky last night

Pretend you're mean and evil
Stubborn like a Georgia mule
Been lovin' me so good last night
You had me on private school
(chorus)

Pretend you can be sweet
Pretend you can be kind
But when it come to lovin' girl
You don't draw the line
(chorus)

I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
Played a little game and I got lucky last night

I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night
I got lucky last night, tryin' to get lucky tonight


"Wife For Tonight"

Is is that string bikini?
Or the sun that's makin' me hot?
Whatever thing to cool me with baby
They gonna take a hell of a lot
I feel the need for some down home lovin' tonight
Oh I could gonna pretend that I'm your husband
If you'd only pretend you'll be my wife tonight
Yeah

I'll build us a playhouse
Into my bedroom
So you can play the bride baby
While I play the groom
I feel the need for some down home lovin' tonight
Oh I could gonna pretend that I'm your husband
If you'd only pretend you'll be my wife tonight
All right...

You can come on over
There'll be no strings attached
If you like what I'm doin' to you baby
You can always come back
I feel the need for some down home lovin' tonight
Oh I could gonna pretend that I'm your husband
If you'd only pretend you'll be my wife tonight

*Stinging Electric Blues Guitar-Otis Rush Is In The Room

Click On Title To Link To The Otis Rush Website.

CD Review

All Your Love I Miss Loving: Live At The Wise Fool Club, Otis Rush, Delmark, 2005

Okay, okay I have been talking about doing a review of the legendary electric blues guitarist Otis Rush ever since I saw him on some DVDs in the “American Folk Blues “series from the 1960’s that I have reviewed earlier in this space. Arguably, the 1950’s and 1960’s were the heroic age of electric blues guitar with the likes of Muddy Waters, Hubert Sumlin (from Howlin’ Wolf’s band), Elmore James, the incredible T-Bone Walker and Brother Rush. What makes the case for his inclusion here is some very rippling solos where he runs the board.

Sometimes the quality of live performances especially in the days before better sound production technology was developed, as here at the famous blues club the “Wise Fool Club”, diminishes the quality of the sound. However, for a performer like Rush, having that live audience in front is the spark that takes them to flights of ....musical fancy. Put that together with Rush’s deep, powerful voice to match the intensity of the riffs and a self-selected back up band and you have the blues when they are dos.

You don’t believe me? Well, listen to a smoking “Sweet Little Angel” or the pathos of “Feel So Bad”. Or the pain of “You’re Breaking My Heart” or the frenetic longing of the title song “All Your Love I Miss Loving”. Case closed.


Sweet Little Angel - B.B. King

(B.B. King & Jules Taub)

I got a sweet little angel
I love the way she spread her wings
Yes, I got a sweet little angel
I love the way she spread her wings
Yes, when she spread her wings around me
I get joy in everything

You know I asked my baby for a nickel
And she gave me a twenty dollar bill
Oh, yes, I asked my baby for a nickel
And she gave me a twenty dollar bill
Whoa, you know I asked her for a little drink of liquor
And she gave me a whiskey still

Ah yes, asked my baby to quit me
Well, I do believe I will die
Yes, I asked my baby to quit me
Well, I do believe I will die
'Cause, if you don't love me little angel
Please, tell me the reason why