F*U*N*K*Y New Year's Eve G*R*O*O*V*E

... comes this year from the Los Angeles-based outfit Senor Soul, from 1969.

Senor Soul released two albums for Double Shot in 1968-69, It's Your Thing being their second; the group was composed by Willie Briggs, Ed Stevenson, J.T. Crump, Howard Talley and Charles Miller. True to their style, their 1969 LP features funky (& soul-jazzy) instrumentals, many of them adapted from known songs (like Proud Mary, Working In The Coalmine and others). The title song It's Your Thing reached the Top 40s R&B. And that's just about all I know about the LP, really. If you got two spare minutes, find out more about their album over at GrooveAddict and Funk-o-logy.

There are two heavy funk pieces on this album, »The Mouse« and »Make The Funk Jump« ... just the right stuff for New Year's Eve. Hear them below!


A peaceful 2013 to all of you!
May everything you desire come true.


Senor Soul: »The Mouse« / »Make The Funk Jump« from the Double Shot LP # DSS-5005 (1969):

* * * 

I Wish I Knew ...

... How It Would Feel To Be Free ... from Shirley Scott's 1969 LP Shirley Scott & The Soul Saxes (Atlantic SD 1532).

51 Years ago today, the Berlin Wall was built. Fortunately, it's been down for 23 years now and the world has become a better place. But let us not forget that others are still struggling to acquire their freedom ... in Syria, in Belarus, in Iran, in Alge- ria, in North Corea, in Cuba, in Ukraine ... and in some sense in Russia as well ... and not to speak of the social and racist barriers to freedom that exist throughout the entire world.

Atlantic SD 1532 (1969)

For the record: Shirley Scott's '69 album actually features six songs recorded in July 1969, all with the participation of saxo- phonists King Curtis, Hank Crawford and David Newman, hence the title. There is one title though (the one you can hear below) which was already recorded back in September 1968 ... and it's the only track on the LP without saxophone. Accompanying Shirley on the organ are Eric Gale (guitar),  Jerry Jemmott (bass) and Bernard Purdie (dr).

Shirley Scott: »I Wish I Knew How It would Feel To Be Free« from the Atlantic LP # 1532 (1969):

»Soul has Gained New Fans«

... we read in a Billboard article (»Soul Trends - The Widening of Its Audience«, Aug. 16, 1969, issue), »thanks to the rediscovery, by progressive rock FM stations, of Blues. LP cuts by B.B. King, Isaac Hayes, Ray Charles, Albert Collins, and Ike and Tina Turner are programmed almost as regularly as those by Iron Butterfly or Jimi Hendrix Experience by these stations, and an audience completely different from those already mentioned has emerged with great interest in the music and tre- mendous buying power. Soul has come a long way from Fats Domino being covered by Pat Boone ...«

Hmm, not exactly the mix of names which would come to my mind if I had to restate this, but still ... Albert Collins certainly had a peculiar role in bringing different, and often separate, musical styles together. His Imperial LP Trash Talkin' (# 12438) was released just at the time when the above-quoted Billboard issue was published. (His previous album, for Blue Thumb, had been released only two months before ... perhaps you remember the beautiful headshot of Albert on the cover.) Albert's Imperial LP contains 12 tracks, 8 of which are instrumentals. The funny »Conversation With Collins« has him talking, among many other things, about changing diapers, and »Talking Slim Blues« is actually »Things That I Used To Do«. However, these are more or less classic blues tunes. More towards the blending of styles - soul, blues and funk for instance - go some of the instrumentals, and it may have been those that prompted the Billboard writer to include Collins's name in his musings about Soul's widening audience. The instrumentals best exemplifying this are, to my mind, »Jawing« and »Tongue Lashing«, the first pretty funky, the second reminding of the Memphis soul sound (complete with horn section). Just the right stuff for a thursday night I'd say ...

Albert Collins: »Jawing« / »Tongue Lashing« from the Imperial LP # 12438 (1969):

* * *

... and I love his ties!

End of Month Update ...

... meaning simply that I added two instrum- entals from King Curtis & His Kingpins' album King Size Soul (Atco LP 33-231, rel Nov. 1967) to previous posts, viz. the one featuring »C.C. Rider« and another feat. Booker T & the MGs's instrumental version of »Ode To Billie Joe«. Look up those songs here (C.C. Rider) and here (Ode To Billie Joe).

Sæxy

Today some more saxophone on this blog! Played by Clarence Wheeler, who in 1972 recorded his Atlantic album The New Chicago Blues (Atlantic LP # SD 1636, released in January 1973).

ad from Jet magazine, Feb. 22, 1973

Although entitled The New Chicago Blues, there is little on this album that would qualify as »blues« in the more conventional sense; most of the tunes on this LP are actually jazz numbers. Two songs, however, stand out: »Oblighetto« featuring Buddy Guy & Junior Wells, and »How Could I Let You Get Away«, featuring Brenda Lee Eager & Peaches as background vocal group. It's just the right song for a relaxed evening (in case your life offers any of those, mine does rarely ...).

»How Could I Let You Get Away« was recorded at Paragon Studios, Chicago, on Sept. 19, 1972. Brenda Lee Eager was at that time still teamed up with Iceman Butler (before they broke up, with considerable noise, in autumn 1973). »Peaches« was a female quartet orga- nized by Jerry Butler whose line-up consisted of Brenda Lee Eager (billed separately), Carolyn Johnson, Diedra Tig and Mattie Butler (Butler's youngest sister). The names are quoted in an article in JET; over on Sir Shambling I found the following: »David Cole ... kindly writes to say that in his interview with Brenda Lee Eager she gave the names of the women in Peaches as Mattie Butler (Jerry's sister), Diedre Tigs and Carolyn Johnson. Davie Gordon has written to confirm the group members and by reference to an interview with Jerry Butler in Blues & Soul in 1972 adds that Butler said ""I formed the group about two years ago because I found I needed to use background singers all the time and that if I were to use the same girls all the time I could create a definite sound."«

A number of known session players took part in recording The New Chicago Blues; the group normally appeared as »The Enforcers«. I'd like to single out here organist Sonny Burke and bass player Louis Satterfield who in the '60s was one of the musicians associated with »The Chess Sound«. (You can hear him also on the Checker albums of the Meditation Singers.)

Clarence Wheeler (feat. Brenda Lee Eager & Peaches): »How Could I Let You Get Away« from the Atlantic LP # SD 1636 (1973):

* * *

Down & Out

After Lonnie Mack's legendary instrumental »Memphis« skyrocketed the r&b and pop charts in summer 1963, Cincinnati's Fraternity Re- cords put together an album which eventually was released (mono only) in October. This LP (Fraternity # F -1014) features all the better known tunes associated with Mack's influential guitar style (»Memphis«, »Wham!«, »Down In The Dumps«, »Suzie-Q«) and some more songs besides.

Lonnie Mack has the distinction to call a very decent Wikipedia article his own, actually much better, more complete and more meticously documented than most other entries on '60 r&b music; over on WangDangDula you also find an exhaustive discography. On the back cover of his LP, Lonnie is credited, by Cincinnati Post's Dale Stevens, with a »lowdown, dirty and twangy« guitar style. But Stevens also portrays him as a »country boy, and I mean back country«. This image stuck with Mack for a long time, and the Output critic John Morthland wrote in 1984: »It was the era of satin pants and histrionic stage shows, and all the superior chops in the world couldn't hide the fact that chubby, country Mack probably had more in common with Kentucky truck drivers than he did with the new rock audience« (quoted from Wikipedia). If you like to read a more recent assessment of Lonnie's music and career, have a look at Greg Schaber's article »Mule Train«, published in the October 2000 issue of Cincinnati Magazine.

The Charmaines (publicity shot from 1966)

There are two tracks on Lonnie's Fraternity LP which stand somewhat apart from the rest. The first of these is »Baby, What's Wrong«, an uptempo adaption of a Jimmy Reed song. This tune (a dynamic feet mover in and by itself) earned its place on this blog by the simple fact that it features The Charmaines prominently as backing vocal group. The Charmaines from Cincinnati were a female trio of 18 year-olds when they won a local contest in 1960 and then were given a contract by Fraternity. More details on their work with Lonnie Mack you'll find in the liner notes to Ace CD # 1135. However, their appearance in »Baby, What's Wrong« remained uncredited on Lonnie's Fraternity LP. Even when the song was released as a 45 in November '63 (Fraternity # 918, shortly entering the pop charts at # 93) it went into the market as a Lonnie Mack release without any mention whatsoever of The Charmaines. Ah-Oom-Ba!

The second song of a somewhat different flavor on Lonnie's LP is the bluesy instru- mental »Down And Out«. Here we have Lonnie Mack & his band (Marv Lieberman, Ron Grayson, Wayne Bullock, Truman Fields and Irv Russotto) moving a long way from their country roots. And they're really into it:

Lonnie Mack (*feat. The Charmaines): *»Baby, What's Wrong« / »Down And Out«

from the Fraternity LP # F-1014 (The Wham Of That Memphis Man!, 1963)

***

(Both clips from Billboard, November 9, 1963)

Soldier Theory

C.C.Rider. Everyone from Leadbelly to the Grateful Dead has performed "C.C. Rider," but the question remains: Who was C.C. Rider?

    The song is listed as "traditional," meaning no one knows who wrote it. During the Civil War, C.C. stood for Cavalry Corporal. Riding is probably the most common metaphor for sexual intercourse in the blues. The rider is a sexual partner, a steady lover. Was a woman singing to her soldier lover in "C.C. Rider"?
    On the other hand, both male and female blues singers have sung "C.C. Rider." This makes sense, given that in African American usage, "rider" may be used to mean a lover of either sex - and it makes the soldier theory rather interesting.

(Debra DeSalvo: The Language of the Blues from Alcorub to Zuzu, New York 2006, p. 34 f.)

C.C. Rider broke a pattern for Chuck. Until that time he had only recorded songs of his own. C.C. Rider is a traditional folk song whose authorship is obscure. It has been a favorite of many great blues singers, including Ma Rainey, Lil Green and Bea Booze, all of whom recorded it. Chuck's adaptation is his own and is striking in the originality of its styling.

(From the notes on the back cover of Atlantic LP 8018 by Guy Remark)

"C.C. Rider" became a triumph of production technique for Jerry Wexler. ... This was one of the best records of its time, not really rock 'n' roll or rhythm and blues but an inspired mood that drew from both styles and also from conventional popular music.

(Charlie Gillett: The Sound of the City. The Rise of Rock and Roll, new ed. New York 1996, p. 71)

Baker reached way back to the repertoire of the "Mother of the Blues," Ma Rainey, for the classic "See See Rider." Many young listeners must have as- sumed - as I did at the time - that it was a new song.

(Chip Deffaa: Blue Rhythms. Six Lives in Rhythm And Blues, New York 2000, p. 193)

For the record:

   Chuck Willis: »C.C. Rider«. Recorded Jan. 31, 1957, in New York. First rel. on Atlantic # 1130 in March '57, the tune first charted in April, eventually reaching #1 r&b (BB) and #12 pop. Released on Atlantic LP # 8018 (Chuck Willis: King Of The Stroll) in late March 1958. Personnel included Gene Barge (tenorsax), Phil Kraus (marimbas) and Jesse Stone (arr/cond). In July, the album had passed the half- million sales mark; Chuck Willis died only two weeks after its release. BB Review Spotlight: Watch this one. Willis exhibits his usual sock show- manship and drive on "C.C. Rider," a great old blues with a haunting arrangement.

Atlantic LP # 8071 (cover)

   LaVern Baker: »See See Rider«. Recorded Sept. 26, 1962, in New York. First rel. on Atlantic # 2167 in Nov. 1962, the tune charted first in Dec., eventually reaching #9 r&b and #34 pop. It was to be the last of LaVern Baker's songs in the r&b Top Ten ever. Released on Atlantic LP # 8071 (See See Rider) in late Dec. '62 or early '63 (copyright on the back cover says 1962). BB 4-star-review: The old blues-standard is handed a wild, swinging, middle tempo rea- ding. The tune is handled in a modern groove with smart backing ...

*** BONUS SONG added March 31, 2012 ***

A smooth, jazzy-mellow reading of »C.C. Rider« from King Curtis' Atco LP King Size Soul (1967), recorded in Memphis, July 4, 1967 (yeah, they were working that day...). I don't know whether this album version is the same as the one released on Atco # 6711 in 1969.

King Curtis & The Kingpins: »C.C. Rider« from the Atco LP # SD 33-231 (1967):

Gritty New York Funk

GWP LP 2041, tracklist on back cover

Tonight goin' on down with the New York Pazant Brothers ... and two hot funky instrumentals. The way I knew them first was via GWP's 1971 compil- ation Soul, Black And Beautiful Volume 2 (GWP LP # ST 2041). The LP was released towards the end of '71 and was, together with »Volume 1«, the last output by GWP before the label folded (some time in '72, I am not sure about the later developments at GWP ... needs some further research). In any case it's one of the more important compilations of late '60s/early '70s soul & funk.

The album was produced by Ed Bland, a composer, arranger and A&R man of the GWP New York-based label (masterminded by Gerald »Jerry« W. Purcell). See them both on the photo below. Bland wrote a lot of songs for the Pazant Brothers, Eddie (sax) and Al (trumpet), including the two instrumentals you can hear below. The LP is considered a rare item, and this may be so. What is certain is that most of the (few) late '60s and early '70s recordings by the Pazant Brothers were known only to a chosen few before Ace Records / BGP issued the stuff on CD.

From BILLBOARD, April 26, 1969, page 8

Both instrumentals, »A Gritty Nitty« and »Chicken Scratch«, were actually recorded (and released on GWP singles) in 1969. And don't be fooled if on the back cover of GWP LP 2041 they are billed as »The Pazant Brothers« for one song and as »The Chili Peppers« for the other; both are identical (for the late-born: and of course not related to their »Red Hot« namesakes). Both tunes have since long been favorites in funk circles, and justly so. And forgive me the nerdy footnote that I've always wond- ered why the story of GWP and the Pazant Brothers in particular didn't make it in the otherwise instructive study Funk. The Music, The People, and The Rhythm of The One by Rickey Vincent (New York 1995).

»A Gritty Nitty« is as forceful a funk instrum- ental as you could ever imagine. Much more famous, however, is »Chicken Scratch«, and there's a reason for it: The tune was first released as the B-side of GWP single # 502 (much sought-after and insanely rare, it fetches many hundred dollars if on the market). The A-side features Betty Barney (with the Pazant Brothers aka Chili Peppers) and her monster sister funk song »Momma Momma«. Now, »Chicken Scratch« is the instrumental version of Betty's »Momma Momma«, and although the version feat. Betty can't be easily topped the instrumental version is just as hot. If it don't make you move nothing will.

                                                                                             The Pazant Brothers / »The Chili Peppers«:

»A Gritty Nitty« / »Chicken Scratch« from the GWP LP # ST 2041 (1971):

Pat Your Foot

Today, we are just in for some easy listening, R&B style. I thought it a good idea, for this mid-july Friday, to present Brother Jack McDuff's first Atlantic album. It was released in July 1966 and recorded the previous May in New York.

News that he had switched from Prestige to Atlantic reached the informed public in the first week of May (when actually the Atlantic LP had already been taped). »Organist Jack McDuff has been tagged by Atlantic Records. McDuff comes to Atlantic after building a solid reputation on the Prestige label as one of the country's top jazz organists« said the brief notice in the Billboard issue of May 7, 1966 (p. 56). And everything was »top« for him in the following months, as the tune »A Change Is Gonna Come« (Atlantic # 5069, on the B-side »Down In The Valley«) reached the attention of many music lovers - it sold 15.000 copies in Chicago alone -, but it was his album of the same title that was to prove truly successful: It entered the Top Selling R&B LPs chart in August, peaked at # 10 in September and remained on the charts right up to the end of '66. After the effort of the Supremes, some months before in late '65, this was the second time that Sam Cooke's signature song was to win popularity for another artist.
     I always marveled at the cover of McDuff's LP - and the courage of Atlantic to put it out in this manner. Even to the most unsuspicious the cover must recall the visual imagery of Communist regimes of the day, notably that of North Vietnam. We see McDuff in buttoned collar and olive drab, faintly reminiscent of the uniforms, civil as well as military, which were so often seen on the photographs that went with the headlines reporting the latest successes of the Vietcong to the incredulous public in the U.S. And not content with that the artist appears in front of a red sun whose rays beam out and announce that a change is gonna come. Joseph McCarthy was nine years dead when this album cover appeared in the record stores. I guess that he had some postmortal convulsions when his restless soul drifted through the streets of a major city and found herself presented with that provocative cover. Not to mention the aggravating fact that this heretical crypto-communism could be laid at the door of a black musician.
     Atlantic had no such qualms, it seems. They merely were happy to have McDuff on their roster, and the sleeve notes on the back cover of the LP, written by Bob Rolontz, are nothing short of rapturous: The excitement and the emotion that per- vade his playing have won him enthusiastic acclaim and the title of America's No. 1 soul organist. ... This new album, McDuff's first for Atlantic, breaks new ground for the organist. It ... contains a greater variety of material than he has ever recorded previously. ... On every tune he comes through with soulful, moving performances in the genuine down home blues vein. And there is even a hint as to what McDuff's message was - after all, every buyer of this LP might justfiably have held great expectations in this regard, given the programmatic cover image and the no less programmatic title promising upcoming change. But McDuff damped any such highflying expectations, for he is quoted in the sleeve notes with the words: »We don't have any message with our music, except pat your foot and go on with what you're doing.«

So resign yourself to McDuff's quietist stance in things politic and pat your foot. Try tap it to a »Ho - Ho - Ho Chi Minh« beat if you still insist on some political message. You can also hum along. It works beautifully with the first song you can listen to in the following, »Down In The Valley«. I tried that out. The second tune, »What I'd Say«, works fine as well if you modify your chant slightly to »Ho-Ho-Ho / Ho Chi Minh«. Brethren of the earth, raise your fists and pat, tap or hum happily along! If Brother Jack didn't provide us with a message apart from having us move a bit, we've got to do that for him. Here you go:

Brother Jack McDuff: »Down In The Valley« / »What I'd Say« from the Atlantic LP # SD 1463 (1966):

Just What I Need Today

Today, I thought I might just post one of those unforgettable tunes that accompany the lives of us all. Those tunes which you feel compelled to return to once and again. Which you won't easily become tired listening to. Just what I needed today. This is one of those tunes that accompany my life. And it even comes without vocals.

Congress LP # CS-7000 (1968)

You find the tune on the beautiful but little-known LP »The Greatest Little Soul Band in the Land«, released on Congress in September 1969.
Behind the LP was J.J. Jackson (Jerome Louis Jackson), born in the Bronx (or, according to others, in Brooklyn) and »one of the most inter- esting obscure figures of '60s soul« as Richie Unterberger qualified him in the AMG to R&B and Soul. From 1966 onwards, Jackson was recording in the UK with British musicians. And indeed, his »Greatest Little Soul Band« you can hear on this album is an all-out British band (with one Jamaican member), and their LP was recorded at the De Lane Lea Studios in London.

Well, I won't make many words today. Suffice it to say that J.J. Jackson's 1969 Congress LP is a very nice mix of instrumentals and vocal songs, quite varied in style and much to the jazzy side of R&B. At least one of the songs, »Fat, Black, And Together«, was also released as a single (see here). Alan Walsh, from London's Melody Maker, wrote about Jackson's »liaison« and »amalgam« of Jazz and Soul, and he was right about that. And he finished his notes on the back cover of the LP by saying: »As a musician friend said when I played him acetates of the music on this album: "It's like George Gershwin writing for Otis Redding." Need I say more?«

One monster track from this LP is the first tune, a six-minute instrumental version, of the famous »Tobacco Road« (written back in 1960 by John D. Loudermilk from North Carolina, but not much noticed until it became a trans-Atlantic hit for the Nashville Teens in summer 1964. I can assure you, this song, though often recorded and adapted to many musical styles over the years, doesn't become much better than in this big bandish, jazzy soul-version by J.J. Jackson and his fellows. Enjoy!

J.J. Jackson & The Greatest Little Soul Band: »Tobacco Road« from the Congress LP # CS-7000 (1969):

Voiceless

R&B attracted a wider audience and influence and, ironically, it was young white kids in the 1940s and 1950s who, hearing R&B records, determined that they too would become musicians. Guitarist Steve Cropper once noted that, when he was growing up in the American South during the 1950s and he went to see visiting bands, the white members of the audience were required to watch the show from the gallery because segregration was still a fact of life. In later years he recognized that he could only get close to where the real action was by being a musician on the bandstand: there was no segregation among musicians themselves. That enthusiasm triggered the likes of Cropper and many others to become musicians in the first place (Hugh Gregory: The Real Rhythm and Blues, London 1998, p. 7).

»It was basically black music but some whites like Cropper, Stewart and Dunn helped perpetuate the music,« reflects Booker. »They were outcasts for that in a certain way. I think they were either ostracized or admired. (...) Cropper is an innovator, Cropper was the first of his kind,« continues Booker. »I had not heard a rhythm guitar player play what Steve Cropper played. It's quite a phenomenon to be the first. There was nobody like Steve in the South that I knew of - black or white« (Vron Ware, Les Back: Out of Whiteness: Color, Politics, and Culture, Chicago 2001, p. 246 f.)

When I came to Memphis and finally had my own radio, I used to listen to WDIA and at midnight they would play gospel music. That really turned me around. I mean I grew up in the church and heard a lot of a cappella music and stuff but I had never really heard black gospel and it just blew me away (Steve Cropper, quoted in Rob Bowman: Soulsville U.S.A. The Story of Stax Records, New York 1997, p. 21).

There are few persons around who haven't heard his music, yet few of them do know him: Steve Cropper. They probably didn't recognize him when he appeared with bushy beard and long hair in Blues Brothers. Steve (from Dora, Missouri) was session musician at Stax Records in Memphis and member of several instru- mental outfits: The Mar-Keys, Booker T & The MGs, The Bar-Kays. It has, hyperbolically, been said that Steve and his guitar are heard on 99% of all songs recorded at Stax during the 1960s, and it is but a small exaggeration.
The first hit which goes with his name was »Last Night«, in the summer of 1961, an instrumental of The Mar-Keys that still is known to almost everybody in our days. A short while after, in 1962, came the unforgettable »Green Onions« with Booker T & The MGs. (There is a nice recording of that song with Steve Cropper and Donald »Duck« Dunn from 2008, with superb sound!)

As a member of Booker T & The MGs (see the photo on the left) he already appeared on this blog. In the following years, during the 60s, Steve played on recordings of William Bell, Rufus Thomas, Albert King, Mable John, Sam & Dave, Eddie Floyd (»Knock On Wood«), Wilson Pickett (»In The Midnight Hour«), Otis Redding and Carla Thomas ... well, that list names more or less every hit singer whose name stands for the »Memphis Sound« of Stax ...

Steve was closely involved in the career of Otis Redding. He not only played at most of the latter's sessions, but also produced a number of Otis's songs (»Love Man«, »The Happy Song«). Together with Otis he was on the bandstand at the Monterey Pop Festival (June 17, 1967), and he played during the recording of Otis's and Carla's LP »King & Queen«. Eventually, he co-wrote with Otis's the mega-hit »Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay« and received a Grammy Award for that in March 1969. After the turn of the 70s he moved away from Stax when he founded his own label »Trans-Maximus (TMI)« in Memphis (the distribution deal was made, little later, with mighty Columbia). And this label was, for some years at least, a success story (cf. BILLBOARD magazine's Memphis Special, June 03, 1972).

Volt LP # 6006 (1969)

In fact, Steve Cropper during his time at Stax published only one album under his own very name. He entitled it aptly, for a seasoned session musician, »With A Little Help From My Friends«, taking on the Beatles-tune that is also present, in an instrumental version, on the album. The LP, on Stax's sub-label Volt (VOS-6006), hit the market in June 1969. It contains, little surprisingly, only instrumentals, among them some compositions of Cropper, but mainly cover versions of known songs (»In The Midnight Hour«, »Funky Broadway« etc.). Steve Cropper was involved in the production of all these songs when they were recorded by their respective singers for the first time.

The general opinion concerning Steve Cropper's art of guitar playing is unanimous, in that everybody considers him, with good reason, a genius of sorts. Yet he is generally not seen as a guitar virtuoso. On the contrary, he is famous for his reluctant, sparingly intrusive, almost spartanic way of guitar playing: Quite obviously he was trying, successfully, to reach maximum effect with few but immediately striking licks or subtle but crucial variations in rhythm. This approach made him the perfect session musician: His play never dominates, does not distract from the singer and never ever buries the vocal lead. This »spartanic« approach nevertheless succeeds in providing just the right dose of musical grounding for almost every song, making it, by adding seemingly little, truly rich. You can hear that on most Stax recordings of the epoch. Steve Cropper himself was (and is, I guess) fully conscious of his approach and described it in his words as follows:

»A lot of guitar players play more like piano players. They play the whole picture all the way. Then they'd throw in a riff here and there. Lowman [Pauling] mainly just noodled rhythm and then, when there was a hole, man he'd just come out loud and just give you this big slingshot. I think that really influenced me. I think that's probably what developed my style in doing sessions: listening for holes in the singer so the licks I play are as important to the melody as the melody is to the licks I play, where one flows into the other rather than me sitting there trying to play guitar and stepping all over the singer« (quoted in Bowman, Soulsville U.S.A., p. 22).

Steve's »spartanic« approach also succeeded when he played with instrumental outfits, not the least because Booker T.'s hammond organ was, in character, often near to a singing voice, with Steve's guitar providing the necessary counter-points. What is more, Booker T.'s songs were in many cases rather »spartan« in themselves, and this played just in the hand of Steve's guitar-picking fingers. Unfortunately, it does not always work out so fine on Steve's 1969 LP. The reason for this is that here his guitar takes the melody lead, in lack of a singing voice. And in this case Steve's play proves to be ... well, too spartanic for my taste. Of course, all songs sound very professional, played by truly gifted musicians, but they are lacking ... how I'm gonna say this? ... the fire. This strikes me the more, the more dominant the singing voice is in the original song that we find covered here, e.g. in »Funky Broadway«. In other songs, faster ones and those more based on the orchestration, you are likely to notice it less, e.g. in »I'd Rather Drink Muddy Water«. Whatever. Maybe I'm wrong, or unjust. In any case, the album contains some pretty good songs. Listen here:

Steve Cropper: »Funky Broadway« / »I'd Rather Drink Muddy Water« from the Volt LP # 6006 (1969):

Billie Joe ... Goes Instrumental

In the last post you could hear Bobbie Gentry's »Ode To Billie Joe«, and we pondered the great influence this song had on many other styles of music. Today, I would like to present another example for this fact. It is taken from the album »Doin' Our Thing« (Stax LP 724) by Booker T & The MGs, released in January 1968.

Booker T & The MGs are, of course, well-known. They were one of the most famous formations recording for the Memphis Stax-label during the 1960s and among the most popular instrumental groups in general. The group included organist/pianist Booker T. Jones, guitarist Steve Cropper, bassist Donald »Duck« Dunn (from 1964) and drummer Al Jackson. On their LP »Doin' Our Thing« we find a noteworthy adaption of Bobbie Gentry's »Ode To Billie Joe«. A very calm piece which actually only evokes, rather than adapts, the original song. In fact, it more resembles a impressionistic sound study, quite original by and in itself ... there is a certain Debussy-like quality to the tune, being a collage of melodical moods losely based on the original:

Booker T & The MGs: »Ode To Billie Joe« from the Stax LP 724 (1968):

* * *

POSTSCRIPT June 2011:
I recently came across a notice speaking about the success of Bobbie Gentry's »Ode To Billie Joe« and the subsequent flood of cover versions, both instrumental and vocal. It is from the September 23, 1967, issue of Billboard, page 4:

*** BONUS SONG added March 31, 2012 ***

The Billboard article quotes, among several cover version, the instrumental by the Kingpins (i.e. King Curtis and his band) on Atco # 6516. This version was recorded in Memphis (Aug. 24, '67) at the American Sound Studios (supervised by Chips Moman; incidentally, there was also a recording session of the Sweet Inspirations that very same day!).

The tune did great on the r&b charts and eventually entered the Top Ten, peaking at # 6. It was then included in King Curtis's Atco LP King Size Soul (out in Nov. '67). A Billboard review described this version as »mellow jazz, which is loaded with soul« (Nov. 25, 1967, issue p. 84) and this is about right, I guess. In difference to Booker T's impressionistic rendering of the Ode we have here a smooth, albeit conventional version, actually rather close to the original. And of course the tenor sax makes this version very different from Booker's organ-based fantasie de Billie Joe ...

King Curtis & The Kingpins: »Ode To Billie Joe« from the Atco LP # SD 33-231 (1967):

The Fragile Dream

The events that unfolded during the last weeks in the Middle East have changed history: Two Arabic countries abolished their repressive political systems by a people's revolution and now are on their difficult path to democracy. We must hope that they succeed. The recent development of Tunisia seems promising, the newly acquired liberty of Egypt stands on knife's edge. The peoples of both countries are living a fragile dream.

In other Arabic countries, Yemen and Bahrain in particular, turmoil has set in as well, with no predictable outcome as yet. And the situation in Libya is meanwhile completely out of control. What started as an unrest on the streets of major Libyan cities has changed into civil war.

We are witnessing stormy times. Bad times for a blog, though.

Charles Ganimian & His Oriental Music: »Come With Me to the Casbah«, from the Atco LP 33-107 (Come With Me to the Casbah), recorded November 28, 1958, and released in 1959:

History in the Making

This blog has seen the light of the day only very recently ... and yet cannot go on as planned. At least for the moment being.
The people of Egypt are about to write history in the manner the Tunisians already did. Nothing will ever be the same.

Today's post is dedicated to the courageous protesters in the streets of Cairo and Alexandria. Let's hear J.J. Jackson and his wonderful British band. Fittingly, they recorded an instrumental version of the Sam Cooke classic »A Change Is Gonna Come«. It comes from the Congress LP The Greatest Little Soul Band In The Land (1968):



Days of Wrath!