Showing posts with label howlin' wolf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label howlin' wolf. Show all posts

Friday, December 16, 2016

Blame It On The Late Sam Phillips, Okay?







CD REVIEWS

25 Sun Rock’n’ Roll Classics, various artists, Sun Records, 2004




Howlin’ Wolf, Roscoe Gordon, Rufus Thomas and an assortment of black blues notables in the early days. Elvis, Carl Perkins, Johnnie Cash and Jerry Lee Lewis and an assortment of white rockabilly notables in the mid to late 1950’s. What do they all have in common? Well, one thing, and make that a decisively important one thing, is that they passed through Mr. Sam Phillips’ Sun Records recording studio in Memphis, Tennessee on the way to some kind of career. Amazing. With the possible exception of Chess Records in Chicago, a label that moreover concentrated on the blues, no other studio can claim so much as the catalyst for what became rock & roll in the mid- 1950’s, the youth of the present writer and of his Generation of ‘68.

That said, the impetus for this review of a compilation of Sun Record rock and roll artists is a Public Broadcasting Station’s American Masters series that highlighted the ten years existence of that recording studio. There the format included a generous round of ‘ talking heads’ interspersed with some performances, in this case, to honor the 50th Anniversary of the founding of the Sun Records (1950). The ‘talking heads’ in that documentary include several of the artists highlighted here.

This documentary also included many of the old Sun artists who did not attain the stardom of those mentioned in the first paragraph yet who nevertheless had some interesting things to say about the meaning of the Sun Record experience. A recurring theme is that mainly it got them the hell off the farms and out of the fields, especially those damn cotton fields. And they had fun and got paid for it. And met girls! How can you beat that? My take on this is that they were good old boys who got more out of the Sun, if not financially then musically, than they had originally bargained for. And this entire film trip down memory lane, not without a ew barbs, was presided over by the impresario himself, the late Sam Phillips.

As to the present compilation of songs some comments are worth mentioning. As with all such compilations there is some unevenness in the quality of performance. For every Jerry Lee Lewis and "Great Balls of Fire" or Carl Perkins and "Blue Suede Shoes" there are any number of one-shot johnnies like Warren Smith doing the Johnny Cash- written "Rock and Roll Ruby" or Sonny Burgess doing "Red-Headed Woman", both fine if singular efforts. Then there are the merely imitative- of Elvis, Jerry Lee or whoever- like Bill Riley. And then those who never got released like Jack Earls and "Let's Bop". Well, today they all attain immorality collectively with this compilation. Rock on.


25 Sun Rare Blues Classics, various artists, Sun Records, 1997

Most of the points made above about fates of the rock and roll artists apply here as well, except the obvious question of race, both in how the artists were treated personally and financially by Phillips, and the audiences that the artists could perform before that does not get dealt with adequately in the documentary mentioned above except by Rufus Thomas in his fight to trace the roots of rock & roll back to a black musical influence. As to the present compilation some comments are worth mentioning. As with all such compilations there is some unevenness in the quality of performance.

Rufus Thomas on "Married Woman" is fine. As are the performances of Earl Hooker and Sleepy John Estes in his pre-folkie days. Tops for me is Little Milton. One should also note the house musicians like Billy Emerson ( a fine artist in his own right) and hovering around on that old piano the late Ike Turner (can anyone forget his work on "Rocket 88", not on this CD but get it).

I would add this note below that I am doing to all my Sun Record-related reviews taken from the review of the Sun Record documentary because it is appropriate in virtually every instance.

"A note on sound- no, not of this American Masters production which like virtually all PBS productions is technically of high quality. No, I am referring here to the sound in Sun Studio. I do not believe in ghosts or other such things but tell me this. Why, for example, does Johnny Cash in his Sun Records days sound like god’s own creation when on work from other recordings I can take him or leave him? And that goes for Elvis, Carl, Jerry Lee and the others as well. The gods and goddesses of Rock and Roll were smiling on that joint- thanks."

Once Again On Sun Records

25 More Blues Classics, various artists, Sun Records, 2002

Most of the points that I have made in reviewing the fates of the rock and roll artists that passed through the portals of Sun Recording studio apply here as well, except the obvious question of race both in how the artists were treated personally and financially by Phillips and the audiences that the artists could perform before that does not get dealt with adequately in the PBS documentary on the history of Sun Records except by Rufus Thomas in his fight to trace the roots of rock and roll back to the black musical influence. As to the present compilation some comments are worth mentioning. As with all such compilations there is some unevenness in the quality of performance.

Rufus Thomas on "Save That Money" is fine. As are the performances of Earl Hooker and James Cotton, Tops for me is Frankie Ballard’s "Trouble Down The Road". One should also note the house musicians like Billy Emerson (a fine artist in his own right) and hovering around on that old piano the late Ike Turner (can anyone forget his work on "Rocket 88", not on this CD but get it). Mainly though the first volume of this series (25 Rare Blues Classics) is more varied and flows better. Here there is a fair amount of imitation of Muddy Water’s and Howlin’ Wolf’s sound (not bad men to imitate, that is for sure) by musicians who, for the most part, like James Cotton and Walter Horton were just getting warmed up in their careers. They get better later.

I would add this note below that I am doing to all my Sun Record-related reviews taken from the review of the Sun Record documentary because it is appropriate in virtually every instance.

"A note on sound- no, not of this American Masters production which like virtually all PBS productions is technically of high quality. No, I am referring here to the sound in Sun Studio. I do not believe in ghosts or other such things but tell me this. Why, for example, does Johnny Cash in his Sun Records days sound like god’s own creation when on work from other recordings I can take him or leave him? And that goes for Elvis, Carl, Jerry Lee and the others as well. The gods and goddesses of Rock and Roll-and the blues- were smiling on that joint- thanks."

Saturday, August 27, 2016

*Stonesmania- The Rolling Stones When The Earth Was Young- "Let It Bleed"

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of the Rolling Stones performing "Gimme Shelter". Yes, indeed.

CD Review

Let It Bleed, The Rolling Stones, Abkco Records, 1969

Hey, in 2009 no one, including this reviewer, NEEDS to comment on the fact that The Rolling Stones, pound for pound, have over forty plus years earned their place as the number one band in the rock `n' roll pantheon. Still, it is interesting to listen once again to the guys when they were at the height of their musical powers (and as high, most of the time, as Georgia pines). This album from their most creative period from 1964 to 1971, moreover, unlike let us say Bob Dylan who has produced more creative work for longer, is the `golden era" of the Stone Age. While this CD has a fistful of "greatest hits" from this period and there are no really bad tracks here the stick outs are "Gimme Shelter"( as always), the title track "Let It Bleed", "Midnight Rambler" and "You Can't Always Get What You Want". Ain't that the truth on that last one.

"Gimme Shelter" lyrics-Richards, Jagger

Oh, a storm is threatning
My very life today
If I dont get some shelter
Oh yeah, Im gonna fade away

War, children, its just a shot away
Its just a shot away
War, children, its just a shot away
Its just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin
Our very street today
Burns like a red coal carpet
Mad bull lost its way

War, children, its just a shot away
Its just a shot away
War, children, its just a shot away
Its just a shot away

Rape, murder!
Its just a shot away
Its just a shot away

Rape, murder!
Its just a shot away
Its just a shot away

Rape, murder!
Its just a shot away
Its just a shot away

The floods is threatning
My very life today
Gimme, gimme shelter
Or Im gonna fade away

War, children, its just a shot away
Its just a shot away
Its just a shot away
Its just a shot away
Its just a shot away
I tell you love, sister, its just a kiss away
Its just a kiss away
Its just a kiss away
Its just a kiss away
Its just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away

*Stonesmania- The Rolling Stones Aging Well (Alright, Just Coming Back Again) - "A Bigger Bang”

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of The Rolling Stones performing "Sweet Neo-Con" from their "A Bigger Bang" album.

CD Review

A Bigger Bang, The Rolling Stones, 2005


Hey, in 2009 no one, including this reviewer, NEEDS to comment on the fact that The Rolling Stones, pound for pound, have over forty plus years earned their place as the number one band in the rock `n' roll pantheon. Still, it is interesting to listen once again to the guys when they were at the height of their musical powers (and as high, most of the time, as Georgia pines). This album represents a comeback from the tail end of their most creative period long ago in conjunction with their 2005 world tour (endless tour, right?), moreover, unlike let us say Bob Dylan who has produced more creative work for longer, is the `golden era" of the Stone Age. The album, however, is a little uneven in spots reflecting, I think, a certain exhaustion of material that they could call totally their own unlike the time when they owned a big chunk of rock 'n'roll in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

The real stick out here is the Muddy Waters-like blues "The Back Of My Hand". The other stick-outs here are "Rain Fall Down" and "Oh No, Not You Again" with a slight kudos for "Sweet Neo-Con" from group that has not expressed much politically for a long, long time.

SWEET NEO CON
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)


You call yourself a Christian
I think that you're a hypocrite
You say you are a patriot
I think that you're a crock of shit

And listen, I love gasoline
I drink it every day
But it's getting very pricey
And who is going to pay

How come you're so wrong
My sweet neo con.... Yeah

It's liberty for all
'Cause democracy's our style
Unless you are against us
Then it's prison without trial

But one thing that is certain
Life is good at Haliburton
If you're really so astute
You should invest at Brown & Root.... Yeah

How come you're so wrong
My sweet neo con
If you turn out right
I'll eat my hat tonight

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah....

It's getting very scary
Yes, I'm frightened out of my wits
There's bombers in my bedroom
Yeah and it's giving me the shits

We must have loads more bases
To protect us from our foes
Who needs these foolish friendships
We're going it alone

How come you're so wrong
My sweet neo con
Where's the money gone
In the Pentagon

Yeah ha ha ha
Yeah, well, well

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
Neo con

Thursday, July 28, 2016

When The Blues Was The Dues- Chess Records







CD REVIEW



Chess Records 50th Anniversary Tribute, various artists, Chess 1997



I have recently done a few commentaries on the legendary Sun Records that produced more than its share of both black blues and white rockabilly stars as well as a galaxy of early rock and roll idols ands classic songs. If one were to ask what other record company might have had such influence in those days the natural response should be Chicago’s Chess Records that caught many of the black blues artists as they headed North to reach their own stardom once the limits of what Memphis had to offer a black recording artist gave out. This album is a 50th Anniversary tribute to many of those who made stardom or at least were one-shot johnnies (and janes) on that label.

No Chess Record tribute can be complete, can even be considered as such, unless the name Howlin’ Wolf is mentioned. He is represented here by one of the all time great blues songs (and maybe rock and roll, as well) Little Red Rooster. I know I flipped out the first time I heard it covered by Mick Jagger and The Rolling Stones in the early 1960’s. When I heard the Wolf do it I went crazy. Others who stand out here are a litany of blues greats- Etta James, Koko Taylor, Little Milton, and on and on. But here is the tip of the day. What you are getting this CD for is the Wolf’s Little Red Rooster and that is just fine.

Monday, July 18, 2016

*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?

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Good Rockin', Tonight- The Legacy of Sun Records

DVD REVIEW



Good Rockin' Tonight- The Legacy of Sun Records, PBS American Masters, 2001



Howlin’ Wolf, Roscoe Gordon, Rufus Thomas and an assortment of black blues notables in the early days. Elvis, Carl Perkins, Johnnie Cash and Jerry Lee Lewis and an assortment of white rockabilly notables in the mid to late 1950’s. What do they have in common? Well, one thing, and make that an important one thing, is that they passed through Mr. Sam Phillips’ Sun Records recording studio in Memphis, Tennessee on the way to some kind of career. Amazing. With the possible exception of Chess Records in Chicago, that moreover concentrated on the blues, no other studio can claim so much as the catalyst for what became rock and roll in the mid- 1950’s, the youth of the present writer and of his Generation of ‘68.

The format here, as in most of the Public Broadcasting Station’s American Masters series, is to have a generous round of ‘ talking heads’ interspersed with some performances, in this case, to honor the 50th Anniversary of the founding of the Sun Records (1950). An added touch here is that some of the performances by the old Sun recording artists are covered by more recent performers like Paul McCartney and Kid Rock.

The ‘talking heads’ here also include many of the old Sun artists who did not attain the stardom of those mentioned in the first paragraph yet who nevertheless had some interesting things to say about the meaning of the Sun Record experience. A recurring theme is that mainly it got them the hell off the farms and out of the fields, especially those damn cotton fields or out of those dead end jobs. And they had fun and got paid for it. And met girls. How can you beat that? My take on this is that they were good old boys who got more out of the Sun, if not financially then musically, than they had originally bargained for. And all of this trip down memory lane is presided over by the impresario himself, the late Sam Phillips.

Along the way there are discussions, sometimes heated, about the roots of rock and roll- black blues or white country. That will never, ultimately, get resolved although I think the case for the blues gets stronger the more I see and read about the early 1950’s and the shift of the blues from a country sound to a city sound. But that can be argued another day. What we have here is recollections, funny and bittersweet, by those who were either one-shot johnnies or were ‘put on the shelf’ by one Sam Phillips. That is the kind of influence that he had for that one golden decade of the 1950’s. Another nice touch here is that the one- shot johnnies not only get their ‘hit’ covered by currently popular musicians but they get one last 15 minutes of fame by belting out their own classics. Who can forget Lonely Weekend or Rock and Roll Ruby after this retrospective to speak nothing of Good Rockin’, Tonight.

A note on sound- no, not of this American Masters production which like virtually all PBS productions is technically of high quality. No, I am referring here to the sound in Sun Studio. I do not believe in ghosts or other such things but tell me this. Why, for example, does Johnny Cash in his Sun Records days sound like god’s own creation when on work from other recordings I can take him or leave him? And that goes for Elvis, Carl, Jerry Lee and the others as well. The gods and goddesses of Rock and Roll were smiling on that joint- thanks.

Thursday, June 09, 2016

*In The Shadow Of The Great Blues Guitarists- Joe Louis Walker & His Bosstalkers

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Joe Louis Walker's cover of the Big Joe Turner sassy classic "Rebecca".


DVD Review

Joe Louis Walker & His Bosstalkers: In Concert, Joe Louis Walker and various sidemen, Gema Productions, 2003




I have gone through the repertoire of blues great-John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Freddie King, Lightnin’ Hopkins and so on in this space over the last period. I have not included the artists under review, Joe Louis Walker & His Bosstalkers and with reason. Although Joe Louis played with all of the above named artists of the electric blues pantheon he, off of this performance, does not belong there. On the second or third level, yes. No question that he is a virtuoso guitar player-behind someone else. Nothing wrong with that, right? Here in this 1991 concert the stick outs are “I Didn’t Know”, “The Gift’ and “One Time Around”. Good solid blues but nothing to turn your head or stop what you are doing like Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy or John Lee REQUIRE you to do.

***********

Blues Survivor
This is the title track from his Verve/Gitanes CD, recorded in 1992 in California. In this funky song he tells of the obstacles he had to overcome in his career; keeping the blues alive, as it were, while the blues were keeping him alive.

True blues survivor


I'm a true blues survivor, I'm proud I am
I tried a little bit of this and a little bit of that
Searching for something that would be right for me
Tryin' to find some place where I belong at
I tried a little rock, I tried a little roll
I tried a little top hit(?) and I tried a little soul
Hey hey you don't know what it's like
Fightin' the powers all of my life
I've got my own way of walkin'
My own way of talkin'
I'll do what I want and I'll do what I like
Yeah yeah

Sixteen years old, I'm fresh outa school
Tryin' to figure out what I wanna do
I couldn't find no work and I couldn't stay at home
The only thing to do was to sing the blues
I practise every day, go travellin' every night
Tryin' not to get it wrong, I'm still tryin' to get it right
Hey hey you don't know what I've done
All my life I've beren under the gun
I wanna do my own drivin'
I'm true blues survivin'
And that's what's keepin' me strong strong strong
Yeah yeah

(solo)

(I'm a true blues survivor)
I've been left in distress up sky high
(I'm a true blues survivor)
I've been busted and mistrusted, left by myself
(I'm a true blues survivor)
I've been up, I've been down, left all around
(I'm a true blues survivor)
I been busted, mistrusted, I been up, I been down,
locked in, left out, kept me hangin' around
(I'm a true blues survivor)
(I'm a true blues survivor)
(I'm a true blues survivor)




Mama Didn't Raise No Fool
This song can be found on the CD "The Gift" (Hightone Records, 1988)


Mama didn't raise no fool (D. Walker - J. L. Walker)


If I was a fool, it would sure be easy
I could fall, oh baby, for your wicked smile
Buy you a drink, whisper some lie, oh no
And we could go somewhere quiet, for a little while

But my mama she didn't raise no fool
She said, you be careful what you do
Don't let no-one take advantage of you
But my mama she didn't raise no fool
No fool

If I was a fool, I'd forget those promises I already have made
Wipe my woman from my mind, so we could play, oh baby
If I was a fool, I'd follow you home
I would hug you, kiss you and squeeze you, all night long

But no...
My mama she didn't raise no fool
She said, you be careful what you do
Don't let no-one take advantage of you
Cause my ma she didn't raise no fool


Moanin' News
From his Hightone Records CD "Cold Is The Night", a J. L. Walker composition with an intriguing, suggestive title.


There once was a man, who loved to sing the blues
He'd two pair of pants and just one pair of shoes
But when he's moan that lowdown dirty blues
People come a-runnin' from miles around
Just to hear what he was puttin' down
That is why they call him
The moanin' news
The moanin' news

Late at night, when he start to make his move
He irons his pants, and shines those pair of shoes
And then he moan that gutbucket downhome blues
People would begin to jump and shout
After they had heard what he was talkin' about
That is why they call him
The moanin' blues
The moanin' blues

He starts to moan
He said "A-hoo... A-hoo..."
He start to moan
He said "A-hoo... A-hoo..."
People come a-runnin' from far away
Just to hear what the man had to say
That is why they call him
The moanin' blues
The moanin' blues

Later on, when he finally found success
He come back home, and tried to get some rest
And he could moan, that funky urban blues
Now that you're in, you turn on your TV
You never guessed who you might see
The man they used to call
The moanin' blues
The moanin' blues
The moanin' blues
The moanin' blues


Shade Tree Mechanic
This song was written by Henry Oden, Joe Louis' long-time bass player. It's on the CD "The Gift".


I want you to put me under your shade tree
Please get me out of the sun
I want you to put me under your shade tree
Please get me out of the sun
Cause I'm your shade tree mechanic
And heaven knows that I'm the one

I can oil and lube you
And not lose a single drop, no no
I can cool you down
When you start to runnin' hot
I'm your shade tree mechanic
I never leave my shady spot

I can check your battery baby
With my special pressure gage
My work is guaranteed
Guaranteed for thirty days
I want you to put me under your shade tree
Please get me out of the sun
Cause I'm your shade tree mechanic
And heaven knows I'm the one

(guitar solo)

I want you to put me under your shade tree
Please get me out of the sun
I want you to put me under your shade tree
Please get me out of the sun
Cause I'm your shade tree mechanic
And heaven knows I'm the one

You say your drive shaft may misfire
Your piston rod is running flat
Don't you worry about a thing
I got the tools for that
I want you to put me under your shade tree
Please get me out of the sun
My work is guaranteed
I've got just what you need
You can call me day or night
I'll always treat u right
I am the one

Ten More Shows To Play
Another blues about being a blues singer, from the CD "Cold Is The Night" (Hightone Records, 1986)


Ten More Shows To Play (D. Walker - L. Fulson)

Tonight I'm in Houston, then Dallas and L.A.
My woman need me with her but I got ten more shows to play
How long 'fore she'll ask me to choose
Between her lovin' and these ever lovin' blues

I've hit the road before, she never once complained
This time she was cryin' when I got on the plane
I'm hopin' and I'm prayin' she can wait and be true
And not be discouraged without the things we used to do
How long 'fore she'll ask me to choose
Between her lovin' and these ever lovin' blues
All right...

I'm sittin' here in misery, you know I'm on the spot
That woman and this guitar is all I've really got
How long 'fore she'll ask me to choose
Between her lovin' and these ever lovin' blues

Tonight I'm in Houston, then Dallas and L.A.
My woman need me with her but I got ten more shows to play

Wednesday, June 08, 2016

*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

Friday, May 27, 2016

*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

Friday, July 24, 2015

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!

Saturday, November 10, 2012

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- The Blues Is…, Part II


 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGIE28q3fEA

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Howlin’ Wolf performing Killing Floor.

CD Review

Chess Blues Guitar: The Chess 50th Anniversary Edition: Two Decades Of Killer Fretwork, 1949-1969, various artists, 2 CD set, Chess Records, 1998

The blues ain’t nothing, nothing at all but a good woman on your mind, all curves and cuddles, all be my daddy, daddy, build for comfort not for speed just like your daddy, your real daddy, not your long gone daddy just now serving a stretch, a nickel’s worth for armed robbery up in Joliet for some Southside heist that went sour, hell, you told long gone daddy that guns didn’t make the play any better but long gone was just a little too long gone on that twinkle dust and so when Danville Slim called the shots, long gone was long gone, told you about when you were knee high and needing instruction about who, and who not, to mess with when you got your wanting habits on. (Stay away from big women, like the song, the blue blue blue song says, don’t forget, they will wear you out, ditto, long thin gals with wanderlust eyes, and twinkle dust noses, itching, checking out every daddy, every daddy that came by her eyes, flashing five dollars bills and another twinkle line, ditto, god’s girls, Sunday morning moaners, smelling of gin, washtub gin, and juke joint slashes, some mean mama cut her up when she wrong- eyed mean mama’s daddy, now Sunday looking for, can you believe it, forgiveness, and trick, getting it, stick with curves and cuddles, an easy rider, she’ll treat you right and no heavy overhead, and no damn where have you been daddy questions.

She, Miss Lucy she, all cuddles and curves she, an easy rider, yah, a sweet and low easy rider, to make a man, well, to make a man, so far away, so far from uptown downtown Chi town, far down in sweaty delta Mississippi, maybe still in Clarksville like you left her that night, that moonless 1942 night, when you had to break-out from delta sweats, from working sunup to blasted sundown for no pay, for chits, Christ what are you supposed to do with company chits when you had your Miss Lucy wanting habits on, needed, no craved, some of Sonny Boy’s honey liquor, from the Mister on his ten thousand acre cotton boll plantation (selling every last boll too, good or bad, to the U.S. Army, for, for what else, uniforms), and strips from the Captain, for, for sassing, and grab that bus, that underground bus, out on Highway 61, and head, yah, head north following the north star, following the migrant trail up-river. Maybe a quick stop at Memphis to see if any of the guys, B.B. (no, not the one you are thinking of), the Slim, Delta Dark, Bobby Be-Bop, Big Joe, Muddy (yes, that Muddy slumming down river and on the low from some Chi town wench whose man was looking, knife looking for the guy who messed with his baby and left her blue, real blue. True Muddy story.) and if not straight to Chi town and work, work in the hog butcher to the world, work in the Casey steel driving hammering foundry to the world , work in the grain elevator to the world, work in the farm machinery equipment factory to the world , good, steady, sweaty work, five day work and done, five day work, maybe overtime, glad-handed overtime on Saturday, and done, no Captain’s strips, except maybe some rough Irish cop night stick but, mainly, just hell work, and then off to bumbling squalid three decker hovel, overcrowded, over-priced, under heated, damn, nothing but a cold water flat with about six different nationalities chattering on the fetid Maxwell connected streets.

Home, home long enough to turn overalls, sweated blue overalls, into Saturday be-bop blues master, all silk shirt, about five colors, blue blue, green green sun yellow, deep magenta, some violent purple, all fancy dance pants, all slick city boy now shoes (against that po’ boy Clarksville no shoe night to make daddy, real daddy cry, and mama too), topped by a soft felt hat, de riguer for Saturday prances. For a while singing and playing, he, mainly playing that on fire(electric) guitar first learned from daddy, real daddy, down the delta when he was from hunger and he and daddy Saturday juked for whiskey drinks (for daddy) and sodas and ribs for him, for nickels and dimes with his long gone daddy (gone daddy previously mentioned tired of nickels and thus plugging an ironic nickel’s worth) out behind Maxwell Street(only the prime guys, the guys Chess, or Ace, Or Decca, or, some race label were interested in, for a while, got to play the big street, the big attention, the big sweep, everybody else behind for nickels and maybe an off-hand stray piece, a joy girl they called them, hell he called them when he had his wanting habits on, not all black or mixed either, a few white joys looking for negro kicks, looking for kicks before Forest Lawn stockbrokers, or futures traders make their claims, looking over the new boys in order to say that they had that, had that before they headed out to Maxwell Street glare or sweet home, yah, sweet home Joliet. And Miss Lucy waited, waited down in some lonesome Clarksville crossroad, dust rolling in, sun beginning to rest, watching the daily underground bus heading north, north to her Johnny Blaze, Johnny quick on that amped-up guitar and the stuff of dreams.

The blues ain’t nothing, nothing at all but a bad woman on your mind, a woman walking in your place of work, your stage, your Carousel Club, you just trying to get that damn guitar weapon, baby, mama, sugar, main squeeze, in tune, the one just off of Maxwell Street, mecca, with her walking daddy, eyeing you that first minute, big blond blue eyes, and even walking daddy can feel the heat coming off her, animal heat mixed up with some Fifth Avenue perfume bought by the ounce , feel that he was going to spend the night on a knife’s edge. The Carousel Club got a mix, got a mix on Friday nights when the be-bop crazy white girls, not all big blond blue eyes but also mixed, decided that be-bop jazz, their natural stomping grounds, over at places like the Kit Kat Club was just too tame for their flaming 1950s appetites and so they went slumming, slumming with a walking daddy, a black as night walking daddy, make no mistake in tow just in case, in case knives came into play.

She had her fix on him, her and that damn perfume that he could smell across the room, that and that animal thing that some woman have, have too damn much of like his daddy, his real daddy, told him to watch out for back when he was knee-high and working the jukes for cakes and candies (and daddy for Sonny Boy’s honey liquor). Just what he needed, needed now that he had worked his way up from cheap street playing for nickels and dimes (and, okay, an off-hand piece once the joy girls, some of them white like this girl, looking for negro kicks, badass negro kicks and then back to wherever white town, heard him roar up to heaven on that fret board) to backing up Big Slim, yah, that Big Slim who just signed with Chess and was getting ready to bring the blues back to its proper place now that it looked like that damn rock and roll, that damn Elvis took all the out of any other kind of music had run its course.

Then it started, she sent a drink his way, a compliment to his superb playing on Look Yonder Wall according to Millie th e waitress, then another, ditto on The Sky Is Crying, walking daddy was not pleased and she looked like she was getting just drunk enough to make her move (hell, he had seen that enough, and not just with these easy white girls). No sale tonight girlie that bad ass negro really does look bad ass, bad ass like long gone daddy whom he started on these mean streets with and still finishing up his nickel at Joliet. She makes her way to the stage as the first set ends. Pleasant, hell they are all pleasant, in htta polite way they have been brought up in for about four or five generations, but still with that come hither perfume and that damn hungry look. No sale, no sale girlie, not with bad ass looking daggers in his eyes. And that night there wasn’t. Next Friday night she came in alone, came in and sat right in front of him. Didn’t say a word at intermission, just sent over a drink for a superb rendition of Mean Mistreatin’Mama , and left it at that.

After work she was waiting for him out in back, he nodded at her, she pointed at her car, a late model, and they were off. They didn’t surface again for a week. The blues is…

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Out In The Be-Bop 1960s Folk Blues Revival Night- The 1964 American Folk Blues Festival- A CD Review

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Chicago blues legend Howlin’ Wolf performing the Robert Johnson/Elmore James electric blues classic, Dust My Broom.

CD Review

American Folk Blues Festival ‘64, various artists, Optimism Records, 1982

Let’s go by the numbers, the musical year numbers for my generation, the generation of ’68. We all came of musical age, more or less with Elvis, Carl Perkins, Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee in the mid-1950s when the music was hot, we were naïve (or worst), and just let it go from there. After a musical counter-revolution in the late 1950s where we put up with some awful Bobby Vee/Fabian/Johnny Somebody stuff we stepped right into the hard rock and roll of the Rolling Stones and later groups that based their early work on the blues, the American etched blues. You cannot listen to early Stones with thinking about Little Red Rooster, Baby Don’t Go, Hoochie Goochie Man, and a million other Chess Record classics. Go figure.

Yes, go figure. Go figure that much of early rock and roll was derived from the blues, city blues mainly, Chicago mainly, but those self-same city blues were derived from you guessed it, the old country blues from down in the Delta, the North Carolina Piedmont and the hills and hollows of Appalachia where all the hip Chicago cats (Muddy, Howlin’ Wolf, Junior Well, etc.,) came from. All of this is just around about way to pay tribute to the roots, or one of the significant roots, of our generational genre. Hell Elvis, Jerry Lee, and you know for sure that Chuck was listening, listening hard, at the juke joint doors when Saturday night turned into Sunday. And then they listened to the sanctified music that was meant to wash away that Devil’s music blues. But never quite did.

But more than that search for roots business it was a question of revivals, here the American Folk Blues Festival of 1964, which was indirectly brought about by our generation of ’68’s search for roots to explain our angst and alienation, including the search for authentic roots music. See once rock and roll hit our mid-1950s brains like an, well like an atomic bomb, we lost sight of where the music had come from. We just wanted to dance, or think we could dance so we could more smoothly be around that certain she (or he for she) without having to learn the fox trot or some old fogey dance. And not have to get sweaty-palms, strange-smeeling breathe close and be cool at the same time.

More importantly we didn’t “hit the books” to find out what happened to those who created the music that once was the staple of hip music. It was only after we figured out the social graces stuff and needed to do more than dance cool with that certain she (oh yes, and he for she) that we went root hunting. And guess what? Some of the boys (mainly) were still around in places like Maxwell Street in Chicago or down picking cotton in the Delta or holed up in some skid row hotel just waiting to be “discovered,” or really rediscovered.

That may not be the exact genesis of the folk blues revival when that movement hit high stride in the Newport folk festivals of the early 1960s reintroducing a young audience to the likes of Sleepy John Estes, Mississippi John Hurt, Skip James and Son House but it will do here. And of course the artists on this CD-the likes of Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson, the legendary producer and writer Willie Dixon, and the “max daddy of them all,” Howlin’ Wolf. This is history, maybe not world-shaking, change-the course-of civilization history but a very important slice of the people’s history. Listen up.

Friday, May 07, 2010

*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)

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

*Once More On The Post World War II Chicago Blues Explosion- The Work Of Master Blues Harmonica Player Sonny Boy Williamson

Click on the title to link to a "YouTube" film clip of Sonny Boy Williamson performing "Keep It To Yourself".


CD Review

Sonny Boy Williamson: His Best: 50th Anniversary Chess Edition, Sonny Boy Williamson, Chess Records, 1997


I hope I never get tired of reviewing the various blues greats that I have spent the better part of the last couple of years trying to highlight. And I probably won’t. However, one little problem tends to keep creeping up. Just when I think that I have hit all the blues high-binders that are possible to mention without just running out into the street and reviewing some itinerant street player along comes another one that it would be a sin, a mortal sin, not to mention. That is the case here with the work of Sonny Boy Williamson (Rice Carter version, for those who want to get into that controversy over who the real Sonny Boy is, or was), master harmonica player, no, make that harmonica wizard.

One of the things that got added, significantly, when the blues went north to Chicago (and other such environs) and went electric in the post-World War II period was the increased use of the harmonica to drive the beat, or act as counter-point to it, as the case may be on any particular song . We all know, or should know, of the key role that Muddy Walters and his various bands played in this with the emergence of Little Walter and later James Cotton. Note should also be taken of Howlin’ Wolf’s role when he was in his prime, and drove everyone crazy with that voice and THAT harmonica he practically inhaled on things like “How Many More Years”. Well, how do you think these guys learned the tricks of the harmonica trade? One way or another at the feet of Sonny Boy.

And the proof? Well just take about ten out of the twenty selections in this 50th Anniversary of Chess Records edition. Perhaps any ten will do but here are my stick outs. Keep in mind that most of the lyrics are monstrously “politically incorrect” but “Keep It To Yourself,” “Your Funeral And My Trial,” Down Child,” and, the well-known “Help Me” are a good sampler.

Help Me

Sonny Boy Williamson


You got to help me
I can't do it all by myself
You got to help me, baby
I can't do it all by myself
You know if you don't help me darling
I'll have to find myself somebody else

I may have to wash
I may have to sew
I may have to cook
I might mop the floor
But you help me babe
You know if you don't help me darling
I'll find myself somebody else

When I walk, walk with me
When I talk, you talk to me
Oh baby, I can't do it all by myself
You know if you don't help me darling
I'll have to find myself somebody else
Help me, help me darlin'

Bring my nightshirt
Put on your morning gown
Bring my nightshirt
Put on your morning gown
Darlin I know we stripped bare
But I don't feel like lying down

by Willie Dixon


Blues Lyrics - Sonny Boy Williamson II
Your Funeral And My Trial

All rights to lyrics included on these pages belong to the artists and authors of the works.

All lyrics, photographs, soundclips and other material on this website may only be used for private study, scholarship or research.

by
Sonny Boy Williamson II (Rice Miller)

The Essential Sonny Boy Williamson (Chess/MCA 9343)


Please come home to your daddy, and explain yourself to me
Because I and you are man and wife, tryin' to start a family
I'm beggin' you baby, cut out that off the wall jive
If you can't treat me no better, it gotta be your funeral and my trial

When I and you first got together, 't was on one Friday night
We spent two lovely hours together, and the world knows alright
I'm just beggin' you baby, please cut out that off the wall jive
You know you gotta treat me better, if you don't it gotta be your funeral and my trial

Alright

The good Lord made the world and everything was in it
The way my baby love is some solid sentiment
She can love to heal the sick and she can love to raise the dead
You think I'm jokin' but you better believe what I say
I'm beggin' you baby, cut out that off the wall jive
Yeah, you gotta treat me better, or it gotta be your funeral and my trial

Saturday, November 28, 2009

*In The Time Of The Chicago Blues Explosion- The Blues Of Earl Hooker

Click on title to link to Earl Hooker's lyrics and rendition of "You Shook Me Baby"

CD Review

Blue Guitar, Earl Hooker, Blues Interactions, 2001


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 from 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. But those names hardly exhaust the sheer mass of blues artists who fled the South (with a stopover down river in Memphis in many cases) to make their names on Chicago's Maxwell Street. The name Earl Hooker, under review here figures prominently, if not famously, as part of that plethora of talent.

Naturally, in my attempts in this space to link up the names of the blues artists who I fell in love with in my youth I have used many sources, or have been led to them in various ways. The case of Earl Hooker is illustrative. I, some time ago, did a review of a documentary on the late Clifford Antone’s Club Antone down in Austin, Texas where many of the great then still standing blues artists, who came of age in the 1950s, found a second home, and an extended career. As part of that documentary coverage the name Earl Hooker, naturally enough, came up. And hence I went scurrying back to my archives to check his work out again. This, unfortunately, is the only album of his that I still possess after all these year but it is rather indicative of his style and is a good primer.

Outstanding here are the smoking “Will My Man Be Home Tonight”, the classic “Calling All Blues”, his signature and title track “Blue Guitar”, and another smoking “Off The Hook”. For a close look at one of the guys who jammed with the likes of Muddy and Howlin’ Wolf, after hours when they got down and serious and played the music for keeps, here is a your first look.

Song Lyrics: Sweet Home Chicago
Written and recorded by: Robert Johnson (1936)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh baby don't you want to go
Oh baby don't you want to go
Back to the land of California
to my sweet home Chicago

Oh baby don't you want to go
Oh baby don't you want to go
Back to the land of California
to my sweet home Chicago

Now one and one is two
two and two is four
I'm heavy loaded baby
I'm booked I gotta go

Cryin baby
honey don't you want to go
back to the land of California
to my sweet home Chicago

Now two and two is four
four and two is six
You gonna keep monkeyin round here friend-boy
you gonna get your business all in a trick

But I'm cryin baby
honey don't you wanna go
Back to the land of California
to my sweet home Chicago

Now six and two is eight
eight and two is ten
Friend-boy she trick you one time
she sure gonna do it again

But I'm cryin hey hey
baby don't you want to go
back to the land of California
to my sweet home Chicago

I'm goin to california
from there to Des Moines Iowa
Somebody will tell me that you
need my help someday

cryin hey hey
baby don't you want to go
back to the land of California
to my sweet home Chicago

© (1978) 1990, 1991 Lehsem II, LLC/Claud L. Johnson
Administered by Music & Media International, Inc.

Robert Johnson
(Robert Leroy Johnson)
May 8, 1911 - August 16, 1938



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Also recorded by:
Johnny Shines, Foghat, Lonnie Pitchford,
Peter Green with Nigel Watson Splinter Group,
The King, Status Quo, Rocky Lawrence, Pyeng Threadgil,
Eric Clapton, Jim Belushi and The Sacred Hearts

Friday, November 27, 2009

*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.



Monday, August 17, 2009

*Still Looking For The Heart Of Saturday Night-Tom Waits: Under Review Over-reviewed

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Tom Waits performing "Hoist That Rag". For a notoriously non-political guy- Ouch!

DVD Review

Tom Waits: Under Review: 1983-2006, Sexy Intellectual Productions, 2007


Apparently, after viewing this musical film documentary about the mid-career changes in the work of master vocalist Tom Waits, not all such efforts are born equality. I, honestly, do not want to spend much time on this one. Not because of the “talking heads” that always populate these kinds of films, usually in music documentaries they are filled with good information. Rather, I was left with two distinct negative impressions, one that this was something of an academic exercise for the “talking heads” that well beyond the most rarified flights of fancy that can come out of that milieu. The second was that, strangely, Tom Waits for all of his musical virtuosity really is better served by exposure to his works than a discussion of the chronology of his various efforts over the past quarter century. Mercifully this thing was only an hour and a half. Otherwise I thought would have to call on one of the corner boys, Gun Street Girl or one of the Nighthawk diners to do their thing.




Hoist That Rag Lyrics-Tom Waits

Well I learned the trade
From Piggy Knowles and
Sing sing Tommy Shay Boys
god used me as hammer boys
To beat his weary drum today

Hoist that rag
Hoist that rag

The sun is up the world is flat
Damn good address for a rat
The smell of blood
The drone of files
You know what to do if
The baby cries

Hoist that rag
Hoist that rag

Well we stick our fingers in
The ground, heave and
Turn the world around
Smoke is blacking out the sun

At night I pray and clean my gun
The cracked bell ring as
The ghost bird sings and the gods
Go begging here
So just open fire
When you hit the shore
All is fair in love
And war

Hoist that rag
Hoist that rag
Hoist that rag
Hoist that rag