Above: The Rationals' Scott Morgan (left) and Blitz Magazine Editor/Publisher Michael McDowell enjoy a day indulging their passion for record collecting. A rave review of the Rationals' just issued Think Rational! double CD collection follows below. Photo by Audrey McDowell (Click on image to enlarge).
CD REISSUES
CHAPLIN HARNESS - Chaplin Harness (Gear Fab)
In the AM/FM wars of the late 1960s and early 1970s, the lines between the two camps generally appeared to be clearly drawn. The AM side offered a greater degree of diversity, with the common ground being a preference for the singles format. Conversely, the FM contingent endeavored to accommodate the trend conscious under the guise of “free form”, then and now a euphemism for a lack of direction that in reality was little more than an attempt to pander to the peer conscious demands of the lowest common denominator.
Retrospective observations frequently overlook an integral component of the FM camp; one that could have saved the format from imploding had it received its due from the onset. Embraced at the time by a handful of the more forward thinking FM ilk were a series of independently recorded bands. For all practical purposes, those bands were perpetuating the garage band ethic of the mid-1960s in the sense of maintaining creative autonomy based on little else than their own take on societal developments, as filtered through respective cultural and geographical factors indigenous to their individual circumstances.
Certain traits were deemed to be a prerequisite of the FM experience, such as an increase in volume, propensity for extended musical workouts and a general disdain for the upbeat or humorous in favor of a somber approach intended to demonstrate a concern for whatever social malaise with which the respective band purported to most closely identify. Where this sort of band differed from the more notorious FM fare was in their determination to make a musical statement that at least demonstrated a modicum of concern for the art itself, rather than falling in lockstep with their more notorious counterparts.
Whether or not the band in question recorded independently or was signed to a major label, they would generally would regards such traits as an asset. This resulted in a slightly more elevated sense of purpose than the movement as a whole seemed willing to allow. To that effect, artists as disparate in their focus as Ratchell, the Incredible String Band, Amon Duul II, Mahogany Rush and Tranquility each managed to maintain a modicum of integrity and individuality, yet all managed to at least be acknowledged (if not embraced) to a reasonable extent by the FM contingent.
Conversely, a number of such bands were unable to sustain their momentum beyond a handful of independent recordings, many of which have been reissued in the CD format over the past decade by Roger Maglio’s Gear Fab Records. The latest of note is this 1969 collection, which was recorded in Camden, New Jersey by the ambitious sextet, Chaplin Harness.
Although the ten selections herein did not realize an official release at the time that they were recorded, they were previously made available in vinyl format in 2005 on Brian Hulitt’s Void label. A new partnership between Maglio and Hulitt will enable releases such as this one to concurrently remain in print in both the vinyl and CD formats.
For Chaplin Harness, that means greater exposure for an album that curiously did not make it past the test pressing stage at the time of its recording. And while there is much to indicate that such tracks as Stitch, Peat Moss and the extended, Dave Brubeck meets Brian Auger-like workout, 3/4 Plaything would have been welcomed by factions within the FM circle that were sympathetic to blues and jazz (and indeed, Chaplin Harness at the time counted among their ranks the veteran Philadelphia jazz guitarist Rick Iannacone, who went on to make his mark with the Bobby Zankel Trio), Chaplin Harness’ lone moment in the spotlight came with the single release of the James Gang/Jimmy Smith hybrid, Dit Dewey Man, an extended version of which is included here as a bonus track.
While very much of its time, Chaplin Harness’ sparse repertoire was deserving of greater notoriety than it was afforded. Sadly, lead vocalist Raymond Bozarth passed away a few years after this album was completed. But his sympathetic and expressive vocals, coupled with Iannacone’s guitar savvy and the obvious chemistry generated by bandmates Edward Monroe, Joseph Mingori, Nicholas Fanelli and William Vespe were very much indicative of a band whose sense of direction and purpose transcended the confusion of the times. They left not only a brief yet noteworthy legacy, but a commendable demonstration of why the musical climate from which they came was not completely bereft of merit.
CANDIDA/DAWN FEATURING TONY ORLANDO - Dawn
(7T’s Records)
Despite the tremendous amount of pretentiousness and bravado espoused at that time by certain segments of the FM contingent, in the great AM/FM wars of the late 1960s and early 1970s, a number of groups and solo artists rose to the occasion to reinforce AM radio’s status as the true groundbreaker and ongoing representative of music of superior aesthetic merit.
One such group was the trio Dawn, who remained steadfast in their resolve to place the betterment of their art above any sort of concessions to commercialism or the constantly evolving social and political mores of the day. In the process, Dawn recorded a number of classic singles and several above average albums for the late Larry Uttal’s Bell Records.
Much of Dawn’s success can be attributed to the musical savvy and commanding lead vocals of Manhattan native Michael Anthony Orlando Cassavitis, who parlayed a successful run with the Five Gents into a prolific solo career in 1961 for Epic Records as Tony Orlando. While at Epic, Orlando released an above average album and several noteworthy singles, including Bless You, Happy Times (Are Here To Stay) and the monster classic, Halfway To Paradise. The highly engaging and memorable melody of Halfway To Paradise made a significant impression on labelmate Bobby Vinton, who recorded a sublime cover of it in 1968. In the process, Vinton’s version enabled Orlando to sustain enough momentum in the spotlight during what was a transitional period for him in order to build a multi-faceted favorable reputation in the industry.
But Orlando’s best on the job training came in 1967 as a songwriter and solo artist for the Cameo-Parkway family of labels. At the time, Cameo-Parkway was in a transitional phase. On one hand, the label boasted a world class artist roster that featured a number of the most respected garage band artists in history, including Terry Knight And The Pack (on their subsidiary Lucky Eleven label), the Rationals, Bob Seger And The Last Heard, the Ohio Express and Question Mark And The Mysterians. Conversely, Cameo-Parkway was enduring considerable behind the scenes financial concerns, which sadly led to the label’s demise in early 1968.
As such, Orlando was ironically able to benefit from the crisis management opportunities afforded him as a result of Cameo-Parkway’s situation. Due in part to his proven track record at Epic, Cameo-Parkway allowed Orlando to try his hand as both a solo artist and composer. He rose to the occasion handsomely, releasing the self-penned Manuelito b/w Sweet, Sweet 45 for Cameo in mid-1967 and penning the classic, I’m Just Waitin’ (Anticipatin’ For Her To Show Up) single for Chicago’s New Colony Six on Cameo’s affiliate Sentar label that same year.
With Cameo-Parkway’s formidable artist roster scattered among such willing recipients as Capitol and Buddah Records by mid-1968, Orlando was somehow cast adrift until late 1969 (although his momentum was sustained in the interim by the aforementioned Bobby Vinton cover), at which time he re-emerged as the lead vocalist of the studio group Wind.
With Wind, Orlando enjoyed a sizeable hit single with the dynamic Make Believe for Life Records at the end of 1969. Likewise, the ensuing Make Believe album contained a number of noteworthy tracks (including Love Flashin’ Through Me and Ain’t Like It Used To Be). Despite the anonymity with regards to personnel on the album cover, the brief success of Wind brought Orlando back into a favorable light amongst the industry astute, who realized that the frequently self-indulgent recorded output of the Woodstock nation’s second generation disciples did not serve as every musicologist’s cup of tea and that Orlando’s consistency warranted further investigation.
Although Wind’s notoriety did not prove to be a long term blessing for either Orlando or Life Records, by mid-1970, his legacy was about to take a tremendous turn for the better. Orlando was approached by the late Hank Medress regarding a single that Medress had in the works for Bell Records. Medress was a part of the legendary Tokens, who had established a formidable track record of their own with such landmark singles as Hear The Bells, He’s In Town, I Hear Trumpets Blow and She Lets Her Hair Down, as well as the groundbreaking Intercourse album. The Tokens also enjoyed a prolific and highly respected side career as producers, composers and session musicians, with such masterpieces as the Chiffons’ mid-1965 number one single, Nobody Knows What’s Goin’ On (In My Mind But Me) to their credit.
Medress and colleague (and Cameo-Parkway alumnus) Dave Appell asked Orlando to provide the lead vocals for that Bell release. The song was Candida, released under the name Dawn in similar fashion to the previous year’s Wind single. The group’s name, in fact, was inspired by the daughter of Bell Records’ promotion man, Steve Wax.
While the Dawn project was apparently of sufficient interest to warrant a sister group, Dusk (whose I Hear Those Church Bells Ringing and Angel Baby singles for Bell are widely regarded as doo wop classics), it is likely that not even Orlando, Medress and Tokens bandmate Phil Margo (who reportedly served as drummer at the Candida sessions) could have anticipated the enormity of the accolades that awaited them. By late August 1970, Candida was a monster hit, inspiring Medress and Orlando to return to the studio to complete the album that comprises half of this CD collection.
Although Dawn’s archives have been the subject of numerous reissues in the current decade, this particular collection is noteworthy not only for the inclusion of bonus tracks, but for the superior fidelity that highlights nuances of the original sessions that were not readily apparent in the Bell vinyl.
To wit, the title track is more clearly seen for the elaborate production that it is; graced by flowing acoustic guitar throughout the first verse, segueing into superbly arranged violin swirls and punctuated with subtle horn accents. Through it all, Orlando is decidedly more recognizable as the vocal gymnast that he always was, rising to the occasion with crescendos and judicious application of melisma.
While subsequent Dawn singles frequently adhered to the precepts that contributed to the success of Candida, in their albums, both Orlando and the Tokens’ entourage were able to explore and build upon a variety of moods. Within that first album, such experimentation (which seemed to vary at random between a determined approach and capriciousness) was most richly rewarded when all concerned followed their respective muses with original material.
For whereas such extraneous contributions as the Drifters’ Up On The Roof was in some respects a welcome expression of solidarity with music of substance in an era when such proven accomplishments were infuriatingly dismissed out of hand by the aforementioned FM contingent for no other reason than chronology (and indeed in some respects the tread lightly rendition of James Taylor’s caught in the crossfire Carolina In My Mind seems a concession to their ilk), it is the diverse and rich in house fare such as the introspective Look At (which was the flip side of the Candida single), the celebratory Country (which parallels in spirit the Beach Boys’ contemporary, environmentally conscious work on their Sunflower and Surf’s Up albums), the not so unlikely synthesis of the thematic precepts of the Vogues’ Five O’Clock World and Bobby Russell’s 1432 Franklin Pike Circle Hero found in Home and the playful yet understated Let’s Run Away Girl (a prototype for the Amazing Rhythm Aces’ 1975 monster classic, Third Rate Romance) that give Dawn its identity and the impetus to persevere.
And persevere they did, as the Dawn Featuring Tony Orlando half of this collection readily attests. By the time this subsequent album was released in November 1971, the classic Dawn lineup of Orlando and cousins Telma Hopkins and Joyce Vincent was not only solidified, but (as the evidence herein suggests) assertive in the sense of championing a group identity, rather than defaulting to the concept of a lead vocalist with background accompaniment.
As was the case with the Candida album, Dawn Featuring Tony Orlando excels in terms of originals. Witness the Temptations-flavored Who Did A Number On Me, the variation on the Let’s Run Away Girl theme of Carmen, the coyness of I Didn’t Mean To Love You So Good, Juanita (which in some respects justified their earlier Drifters cover) and the seemingly Home, Part Two tenor of The Good Life, all of which give credence to the notion of a viable and cohesive musical identity that survived and flourished in that most narrow and hostile of eras.
And while their unique interpretation of Tony Martin’s I Get Ideas succeeded on a variety of levels (as to a lesser extent does their faithful reading of Stephen Stills’ Love The One You’re With), it again is the cover material that provided the album’s lone misstep.
As was the case with their earlier take on Up On The Roof, the medley of Del Shannon’s Runaway and the Turtles’ Happy Together was a heartening sign of Dawn’s (and the Tokens’) resolve to champion representative classics from rock and roll’s rich repertoire and see them through the challenges of the times until they would again find their footing when welcomed at large by the overwhelmingly sympathetic punk and new wave movement a mere several years hence.
Yet while it is to their considerable credit that all concerned were perceptive enough to realize the irony that characterized the 1967 Turtles classic (which in reality was not “happy”, but instead an account of an individual who was in experiencing considerable inner turmoil), its only shared trait with the late Del Shannon’s 1961 Big Top label debut was the element of uncertainty and apprehension indigenous to their respective story lines. In reality, both originals were individually able to generate solidarity amongst listeners, but due to decidedly different circumstances. As such, the two pieces no more belonged united in a medley than would such decidedly diverse fare as the Steve Miller Band’s Tokins and the Outsiders’ Time Won’t Let Me, simply because both are delivered in upbeat fashion.
This is most assuredly not to infer that Dawn’s singles catalog as a whole was bereft of merit. Indeed, in addition to Candida, Dawn was responsible for a number of engaging and immersible 45s, several of which are represented in this release. While in some respects Summer Sand, What Are You Doing Sunday, I Play And Sing and their Ben E. King-like reworking of Les Paul And Mary Ford’s Vaya Con Dios generally adhere to the Candida ethic, each is strong enough in its own right to warrant accolades on a level with Dawn’s several far more successful singles.
One such monster hit, Knock Three Times appears here as a part of the Candida album and provided the group with a number one hit single in the closing weeks of 1970. Orlando’s vivid tale of communicating with a potential acquaintance through their apartment building’s plumbing system was irresistible enough to earn the highest of accolades in the form of a superlative cover by the great George Jones in the early part of 1971.
While their resounding singles success afforded Dawn the opportunity to host their own CBS television series for several seasons in the mid-1970s, by decade’s end, Orlando opted for a solo career. He in turn was able to parlay his CBS experience into a starring role on The Cosby Show during the 1984 - 1985 season.
Likewise, Hopkins (whose pre-Dawn musical career included session work for Ed Wingate’s highly respected Golden World and Ric Tic labels) used her Dawn pedigree to transition into a successful acting career, with extended stints on such memorable television series as Bosom Buddies, Gimme A Break! and Family Matters in her curriculum vitae.
Most recently, Orlando has appeared at the Welk Theatre in Branson, Missouri, sharing the bill with the beloved Lennon Sisters (who are still led by group cofounders Janet and Kathy Lennon, with younger sister Mimi in the place of retired siblings Diane and Peggy Lennon). But it is Orlando’s work with Dawn that remains his most enduring accomplishment.
And with good reason. Not only are Dawn’s numerous singles and albums an ongoing testament to the validity of the team concept of recording (in which those who individually excel either vocally, instrumentally, as composers, as arrangers and/or as producers join forces for the best possible results), but (as is evidenced in abundance here), their sizeable body of work then and now provided a welcome and substantial alternative to the largely counterproductive atmosphere indigenous to the times in which they were created. And that in and of itself is a tribute to their artistic integrity.
LIVE AT STANFORD, 1957 -
The Gateway Singers (Folk Era)
The development of the stereo recording process was one of the watershed moments in the history of the music industry. Although a number of film studios had the foresight to record their soundtracks in stereo (showcased as early as 1940 in the soundtrack of Walt Disney’s Fantasia), stereo albums were not readily available for mass consumption until the latter part of 1957. The stunningly superior audio experience evidenced in one of the earliest stereo releases, Capitol’s Original Cast soundtrack for Meredith Willson’s The Music Man provided more than sufficient testimony as to the validity of the experiment.
Another rarity in the 1950s was the live recording. Despite an abundance of worthwhile material for consideration, few artists or labels at the time had the foresight (or were willing to contribute to overcoming the inevitable technical and financial constraints) to record concert performances. While the live performances of some artists (including Hank Williams, Dave Brubeck and Eddie Cochran) have survived via television or radio broadcast recordings, only a handful of musicians (Charlie Gracie, Frank Sinatra and Duke Ellington amongst them) have had concert performances from that period preserved in the vinyl and/or CD configurations.
As such, this previously unreleased stereo recording of a February 1957 live show by the beloved Gateway Singers is not only representative of the best of all possible worlds, it is in some respects more akin to answered prayer. Live At Stanford, 1957 is the second of three such landmark recordings issued by Allan Shaw’s Folk Era label in 2009, following the Highwaymen’s career-defining The Cambridge Tapes and in anticipation of Flashback 1963, the latest installment of heretofore unissued live collections from the vast legacy of the Kingston Trio.
Along with the Easy Riders and the Tarriers, The Gateway Singers (Elmerlee Thomas - vocals, Travis Edmonson - guitar, Jerry Walter - banjo, Lou Gottlieb - bass) represented continuity for folk music in the wake of the Weavers’ fall from mass media grace as a result of their uncompromising mission statement and in anticipation of the meteoric rise in 1958 of the Kingston Trio to the upper echelons of the music world.
Of those three groups (Gateway Singers, Tarriers, Easy Riders), it was the Gateway Singers whose impact on the development of the idiom was the most profound and sustaining. Much of this can be attributed to the group having been blessed with remarkably gifted individuals.
The Gateway Singers were not a supergroup in the sense of a gathering of heretofore individually lauded members, as was the case with the pioneering vocal group, the Heidelburg Quintet (which was comprised of five superstars - Steve Porter, William F. Hooley, John Bieling, Will Oakland and the legendary Billy Murray - each of whom had amassed extensive track records as solo artists prior to their collaboration), but in the sense of being comprised of supremely gifted individuals who would go on to establish impressive legacies elsewhere when their tenure with the Gateway Singers had run its course.
Of these, it was perhaps contralto Elmerlee Thomas whose potential was never fully realized. Prior to joining the group at Gottlieb’s behest, Jones had made impressive inroads as a research scientist in genetics, yet had already demonstrated formidable musical capacity as a protégé of the renowned opera singer Marian Anderson. Sadly, Thomas’ valiant attempts to transition from the Gateway Singers into a prolific solo career (highlighted by her 1959 Sun’s Gonna Shine album for Warner Brothers, which featured early versions of Chilly Winds and Good News, as well as the essential Turtle Dove and Johnnie Has Gone For A Soldier) were circumvented by her untimely passing from a brain tumor in 1969.
The elusion of due acclaim was not the case with Travis Edmonson, whose post-Gateway Singers career was defined by his successful tenure as half of the Bud And Travis duo. Bud And Travis’ numerous albums for Liberty, such as In Person At The Cellar Door, Perspective and The Latin Album (which was also reissued on Folk Era) are widely regarded as folk rock classics.
Likewise the great Lou Gottlieb (1924 - 1996), who followed a brief post-Gateway Singers musical hiatus (for the purpose of completing his doctoral studies at the University Of California) with an immensely successful tenure (with Alex Hassliev and Glenn Yarbrough) as bassist and cofounder of the Limeliters. While few would likely contest the notion that the Kingston Trio was the preeminent driving force behind the folk boom, a solid argument could be made for the notion that the Limeliters were (alongside the Highwaymen and the Chad Mitchell Trio) a close second in terms of impact and innovation.
To that effect, Gottlieb worked as an arranger for the Kingston Trio during that transitional phase in his career. In fact, the Kingston Trio’s Dave Guard readily admitted to having been inspired by Gottlieb’s trademark highbrow humor in the development of his own on stage repartee.
Indeed, a closer look at this collection indicates exactly how enormous was the impact of the Gateway Singers not only on the Kingston Trio, but on folk music in general. Witness the playful account of the marriage of actress Grace Kelly to Prince Rainier depicted in the rollicking Monaco, which found its way to the Kingston Trio’s A Rolling Stone in arrangement and Pay Me My Money Down in execution. Likewise, Come To The Dance was echoed months later in the Kingston Trio’s Raspberries, Strawberries, complete with a brief Coplas-like guitar flourish at midpoint. Woody Guthrie’s The Sinking Of The Reuben James (which originated with Pete Seeger’s pre-Weavers band, the Almanac Singers, of which Guthrie was also a participant) was even covered outright by the Kingston Trio on their 1961 Close Up album, as was Buddy Won’t You Roll Down The Line in a subsequent duet album by John Stewart and Nick Reynolds.
Even the comedic banter between numbers identifies with the later Guard, Reynolds and Shane model. Consider the seemingly improvisational references to Dot Records recording artist Jim Lowe in the It’s Not The Green Door dialogue that precedes Malaguena Salerosa (the introduction of which provided a suitable framework for the Kingston Trio’s South Coast), as well as the Nick Reynolds-like asides from Edmonson and/or Walter in response to Gottlieb’s numerous mini-dissertations throughout the proceedings. While not, in Gottlieb’s vernacular, “pedestrian fare”, his obscure to the masses references to history, politics and contemporary culture nonetheless resonated extremely well with his like minded audience.
Aside from being one of the most poignant of anti-war anthems (alongside the Kingston Trio’s definitive rendition of Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream), Down By The Riverside even served to bridge the gap between the Weavers (who recorded a stunning version for Vanguard as Study War No More) and the Kingston Trio and in turn shines as one of several most welcome Gospel-oriented efforts to highlight this collection. The others - This Little Light Of Mine and Run, Come See Jerusalem - in addition to their considerable and ongoing potential for both witnessing and exultation, likewise found their way into the repertoires of numerous other artists, with the latter having been a highlight of the Brothers Four’s 1962 In Person album.
Much of the remaining material served to personify the folk music maxim of perpetuation through shared experiences. To that effect, the late, great Huddie “Leadbelly” Ledbetter’s Rock Island Line herein once again returns to its folk roots after recent moments in the spotlight in country rock and rockabilly/skiffle fashion by Johnny Cash and Lonnie Donegan respectively. Ledbetter’s Midnight Special (which concludes these proceedings) was similarly feted in subsequent, diverse renditions by the Brothers Four, Paul Evans and Johnny Rivers.
The Group Therapy banter that segues into Rock Island Line even provides a brief opportunity for the Gateway Singers to editorialize about the potential of such cover material with its playful (and ironically prophetic) references to Elvis Presley’s impending induction into military service.
Yet such protectionist overtures did not provide sufficient deterrent to those who sought to partake of this material with their own musical persona. And while the results varied widely in spirit and execution (from Jimmie Rodgers’ Kisses Sweeter Than Wine to the Smothers Brothers’ irreverent take on The Fox), all combined to underscore exactly how enormous was the impact of not just folk music in general, but the Gateway Singers themselves on its reascension to the forefront of indigenous American music.
Although Edmonson’s passing on 09 May 2009 marked the end of this classic lineup of the Gateway Singers, Live At Stanford, 1957 provides not only a fitting epitaph, but an absolutely indispensible addition to the rich canon of folk music. Alongside Hank Williams’ The Unreleased Recordings box set, the various Kingston Trio reissues and compilations and the aforementioned Highwaymen collection, Live At Stanford, 1957 is truly one of the most significant archival discoveries of the twenty-first century to date.
THE CAMBRIDGE TAPES - The Highwaymen (Folk Era)
If the release of their groundbreaking When The Village Was Green CD in 2007 reiterated the Highwaymen’s status as one of folk music’s absolute front runners, then this most welcome collection of heretofore unreleased concert recordings from the group’s earliest days more than underscores why such accolades were warranted in the first place.
Recorded live at the Massachusetts Institute Of Technology on 26 October 1963 during their immensely fruitful tenure with United Artists Records, The Cambridge Tapes showcases the Highwaymen as being far ahead of the curve in terms of versatility, musical dexterity and the prerequisite (for the genre) social consciousness.
And while those ingredients are of course indispensible components of the live folk recording equation, where the Highwaymen succeeded (and continue to flourish) while others were unable to transition successfully from studio to stage was in their superior ability to assess, address and execute the fundamentals.
Rather than just dutifully reproducing selections from their recorded canon with little or no sense of direction or purpose, the Highwaymen, in the vernacular of radio, left no room for dead air in their performance. Songs were played straight only as necessary, with improvisation, commentary and/or levity inserted either in premeditated fashion or ad libbed as warranted by the circumstances.
Banjoist and cofounder Steve Butts concurs with that assessment.
“We paid great attention not only to the songs, but to the SHOW, with pacing, careful mixing of song types, even the keys we sang in”, he said.
“That's why we love to create and listen to live performances.”
Thankfully, banter was not kept to a minimum, either. Wry humor, acerbic wit, irony, self-depreciation and proclamations of solidarity with the key issues of the day were all fair game for subject matter, and the Highwaymen herein excelled on all fronts.
At the time of this recording, the Highwaymen consisted of the aforementioned Steve Butts on banjo, as well as tenor guitarist Bob Burnett, lead guitarist Dave Fisher and the late Chan Daniels on guitar and charrango. Original member Steve Trott had embarked upon a sabbatical from the band in June 1962 to attend Harvard Law School. In his place was Gil Robbins, a veteran of the Cumberland Three, the band that in 1961 had provided a springboard for John Stewart to succeed the late Donald David “Dave” Guard as banjoist in the Kingston Trio.
Whereas mastery of the fundamentals would seem to be a given for a live performance in the twenty-first century, a random review of concert albums from artists in all genres that were taped around or prior to the time of this recording demonstrates that the Highwaymen were in rare company in having perfected their stage timing in comparison to the somewhat unnerving attempts by others to salvage their between song transitions with more than the usual “you’re a lovely audience” clichés, which many an artist resorted to out of desperation.
To that effect, the Highwaymen herein opened with the title track from their March On Brothers album. It was and is a rousing and harmony-laden call to arms that embraced civil rights issues. In turn, March On Brothers would prove its mettle as a clarion call for the military concerns that would dominate global politics several years hence.
As a whole, The Cambridge Tapes project is a generous look at the highlights of the Highwaymen’s United Artists catalog to date. An earlier live recording, Hootenanny provided several fine moments for this particular performance, including Woody Guthrie’s Roll On Columbia, Roll On (a not so distant cousin of the Leadbelly/Weavers masterpiece, Goodnight Irene and a track that was enthusiastically reprised on When The Village Was Green in 2007) and Mister Noah, a wry look at the Biblical account of the flood from Genesis 6 - 8.
Mister Noah was also recorded in 1963 by Dave Van Ronk on his Folksinger album in the more matter of fact way that was unique to Van Ronk’s persona, complete with the “h” word that the Highwaymen herein graciously omitted. However, the Highwaymen compensated for any perceived failure to meet expectations amongst the sub tangent of their demographic that might place priority on such concerns by staging a group argument in the final bars, which dissolves with an abrupt and well-timed comment about the civil rights movement.
The same can be said for the light hearted Shaggy Dog Stories, which in snippets touches on everything from western swing to Shel Silverstein’s humorous Boa Constrictor (later covered by Johnny Cash) and a playful salute to such vocal harmony greats as the Classics, the Belmonts and the Safaris.
By October 1963, the Highwaymen had also amassed an impressive backlog of 45s, several of which are reprised here. Of those, their two signature singles, Cotton Fields and Michael comprise the inevitable coda prior to intermission. Despite the potential for “familiarity breeds contempt” that has challenged other musicians under like circumstances, the Highwaymen were able to maintain their focus and sustain their enthusiasm, both of which could easily have been circumvented by the inevitable overkill commensurate with the necessity of having to routinely revisit that which brought them success of that magnitude in live settings.
Said enthusiasm is especially evidenced in Cotton Fields, a Leadbelly original that was covered in 1969 by the Beach Boys on their 20/20 album. Therein, the Highwaymen take liberties with their own legacy by executing the “little bitty baby” lyrics in faux baby talk and by camping up the standard folk harmonies in the final seconds. As a result (and possibly unintentionally), the band received a warm reception from an audience that most likely would have nonetheless stood in solidarity with the band in terms of such concerns anyway.
However, singles such as Gypsy Rover (which was the flip side of Cotton Fields) suffer from no such stigmatism, due to their relatively more modest degree of notoriety. As such, its upbeat sing along chorus (a rare deference by the band to folk music convention) sustains its charisma with relative ease. Likewise, Midnight Train (a 1963 single and a Gil Robbins composition, not to be confused with the Monkees’ 1970 Micky Dolenz-penned, R&B-flavored classic of the same name) absolutely soars as a clarion call, with Gospel overtones and sublime vocal harmonies.
The final installment of the singles chapter comes with I Know Where I’m Going and Bob Gibson’s Well Well Well (also recorded by Peter, Paul And Mary), which were coupled on a United Artists single in 1962. Herein, the Scarlet Ribbons-ish flavor of the former is overshadowed by the foretelling prophecy of the latter. Well Well Well reprises the aforementioned saga of Noah and its inevitable ramifications (as noted in II Peter 3:5-6), rendered with the fervency of a Jewel label-era Reverend Willie Morganfield. That the two sides of that 45 are presented in entirely different segments of the show underscores the Highwaymen’s aforementioned astute sense of timing.
Indeed, Gospel music provides a number of the highlights of this collection. While the Highwaymen allow James And Martha Carson’s 1946 hit, I’ll Fly Away to speak for itself, the acapella John combines a compelling first person account of Jesus’ ministry with the inevitable fervor and sublime vocal harmony that could have enabled the Highwaymen to join forces with such masters of the idiom as the Statesmen Quartet and the Jordanaires, had they been so inclined.
Passin’ Through brings the concept full circle by integrating the fall of Adam (Genesis 3) with Jesus’ propitiation (Luke 23:34) and its subsequent impact on such landmarks of history as George Washington’s six months of trials in 1777 - 1778 at Valley Forge and President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s resolve to emerge victorious in the Second World War. A musical sermon of sorts, and a well illustrated one at that.
But of all of the albums in the Highwaymen’s canon at the time of this recording, it was One More Time that received the lion’s share of attention here. In fact, it is an inversion of the group shot from the cover of One More Time that graces the front of this CD.
As One More Time was their current release when this concert was recorded, the band opted to showcase six of its tracks in a live setting. Aside from the aforementioned Midnight Train, One More Time provided the bluegrass flavored Sourwood Mountain and So Fare Ye Well, as well as a cover of Ritchie Valens’ October 1958 hit, La Bamba and one of the earliest renditions of Buffy Sainte Marie’s The Universal Soldier; a candid anti-war anthem that became a sizeable hit single for Donovan Leitch on the Hickory label in 1965.
One More Time also provided an ideal opportunity for the Highwaymen to showcase their musical versatility. In 1963, George Hamilton IV recorded one of country music’s absolute masterpieces with his sublime, quasi-blues treatment of Bob Gibson and John D. Loudermilk’s Abilene on RCA Victor. To be certain, if any record could be used to extol the virtues of what many country music purists frequently derided as the “Nashville Sound”, Hamilton stated the case beyond reproach and in the process set a standard that would be difficult to duplicate and nearly impossible to surpass.
To their considerable credit, in cutting their own rendition of Abilene for One More Time, the Highwaymen set a precedent by realizing that the only way to approach such a work without succumbing to redundancy was to present it in an entirely original manner. As such, Hamilton’s classic herein is transformed into a sublime slow blues. In some respects, such a revision is more in sync with Loudermilk’s general mission statement anyway, as evidenced in his Tobacco Road (which was a chart hit for Lou Rawls at the time of this recording).
Although it is obvious that all five members of the Highwaymen contributed significantly to the overall aesthetic success of the band, The Cambridge Tapes also provides a poignant reminder of just how critical the late Chan Daniels was to that success. In addition to his frequent asides and timely observations during the between song banter, Daniels (who passed away in 1975) brought to the proceedings such key instruments as the Charrango and the Guitarrón, Both were used to maximum advantage herein during El Humauaqueño and The Ladybug And The Centipede. That the Highwaymen continue to pay tribute to Daniels in the present day by including El Humauaqueño in their live set is a poignant testimony to his ongoing impact in their work.
Students of the Highwaymen have been blessed in abundance in recent years with not only a proliferation of CDs of their earliest material, but with a generous amount of new releases, as well. In 2008, their self-produced Celtic album, The Water Of Life was reissued by Varese Sarabande, who (along with the Collectors Choice label) also keeps in print collections of the highlights of their United Artists catalog.
“In 2004, we went into our bass player Johann Helton’s home studio in Boise, Idaho and spent a week doing The Water Of Life, which has mostly Irish and Northern English tunes”, Butts explained.
“We had a thousand copies done up by a reliable CD manufacturer. We sold them from our website and in concerts. This CD is listed on our website and is available from us and from Folk Era Records.”
Commensurate with their impressive and long standing track record of keeping great material available on a wider scale (with a catalog that includes anthologies by such diverse artists as the Bachelors, the Dixie Cups and the Easybeats), Varese Sarabande Records approached the Highwaymen about The Water Of Life.
“For some reason, Cary Mansfield at Varese Sarabande Records, which has put out a separate compilation of our earlier stuff called Folk Hits, decided to re-manufacture The Water Of Life exactly as we recorded it and put it out commercially”, said Butts.
“It is exactly the same as our CD from 2004. But it is available in the stores that Varese Sarabande supplies.”
The Water Of Life is indeed a departure not only from The Cambridge Tapes, but from the Highwaymen’s overall repertoire. Featuring yet another version of the never tiresome The Gypsy Rover, it also includes Work Of The Weavers (with its playful reference to the beloved folk pioneers of the same name) and Andy Stewart’s Ramblin’ Rover, both of which were included in their When The Village Was Green live set.
Another of the highlights of The Water Of Life is Whiskey In The Jar, which had been recorded as Darlin’ Sportin’ Jenny by the Brothers Four on their 1962 In Person album for Columbia. Far from being the first such instance of public domain material being renamed as so to preserve the respective artist’s unique arrangement (witness, for example the variation of poet Carl Sandburg’s This Mornin’, This Evenin’, So Soon by the Kingston Trio becoming Tell Old Bill in the hands of the Chad Mitchell Trio), Whiskey In The Jar represents a rare instance of the Highwaymen being in the latter half of that “battle of the titles” equation.
To be certain, throughout The Cambridge Tapes, the Highwaymen either give credit where credit is due (typified by their truncated and flippant version of the Woody Guthrie/Burl Ives chestnut, Aunt Rhody, which had recently been recorded in relative earnest by the Springfields on Philips) or were on the pioneering end in the aforementioned battle of the titles. Witness Marianne, attributed herein to Victoria, British Columbia folk rock pioneer Ian Tyson (of Ian And Sylvia fame) and not to be confused with the 1957 Easy Riders hit for Columbia. This particular Marianne was covered in 1965 by Chad And Jeremy and released as the flip side of their Before And After single under the title, Fare The Well (I Must Be Gone).
Irrespective of the frequent exchange of ideas between bands during the folk boom, in the hands of the Highwaymen, amongst the proliferation of interpretations, theirs almost invariably became the definitive rendition. In the case of original material, their dedication to the execution of the fundamentals put them at tremendous advantage in terms of being able to establish prolific legacy. The Cambridge Tapes is a most welcome affirmation and celebration of that legacy, which continues at optimum level after nearly a half century.
In the words of the late, great Walter Brennan in the classic television series, The Guns of Will Sonnett, such seeming proclamations of bravado (whether expressed or inferred) are in actuality, “no brag, just fact”. Indeed, one maxim that the Highwaymen can attest to without reservation is that The Cambridge Tapes not only, in Butts’ words, “represents us at the top of our game in the 1960s”, but has also become an instant classic that certainly ranks amongst the finest releases in all of folk music. (An in depth look at Richard E. Noble's just-released Highwaymen biography, Number #1 follows below).
THE ESSENTIAL JANIS IAN - Janis Ian (Columbia)
For musicians who value artistic integrity as an inexorable component of their mission statement, almost invariably there comes a price. Moreover, espousing such priorities on an ongoing basis often means that a given artist will most likely spend their careers languishing in relative obscurity.
Circumstances as these were a common occurrence within the recording industry for decades. Although the fact that creative autonomy continued to flourish from the dawn of the recording industry in the late 1880s through the rock and roll boom of the mid-1960s is evidenced in the hundreds of thousands of records extant that testify accordingly, an artist whose vision necessitated venturing upon occasion beyond those self-imposed (and subjective) parameters was frequently under-promoted, un-recorded or ultimately unsigned as a result.
Thankfully, since the advent of the independent music press movement in the mid-1970s that gave birth to Blitz Magazine and a number of other publications of similar intent, artists who put their musical principles first and foremost in their curriculum vitae were given a hero’s welcome and the ongoing assurance that their work would have a home and a sympathetic showplace. The subsequent rise to prominence of other like minded venues such as the internet and its inherent website capabilities enabled many an artist to in turn navigate their own career paths by giving them a forum for self-promotion, limited in that respect only by their own potential.
To be certain, this form of media liberation was a welcome relief for musicians such as Janis Ian. Under the earlier system, a given artist would either have to toil for any number of well meaning yet sadly outgunned independent labels (which more often than not meant being resigned to a “labor of love” status, albeit with a propensity for greater long term adulation), or face the daunting task of relying on winning the favor of one of a handful of discerning major labels. And given the considerably higher percentage of quality material being produced at that time, the chances of being lost in the shuffle were much greater.
Being accountable to a plethora of demanding media contacts often meant that major labels would have to be judicious in how their output was promoted in order sustain those diverse relationships. As such, under that system, Ian was able to benefit to a certain degree from the relative flexibility of a label like Verve Forecast when her nearly a year-and-a-half old Society’s Child (Baby I’ve Been Thinking) single finally broke in mid-1967.
But even the likes of Verve Forecast (at that time the recording home of the Hombres, the Blues Project, Ritchie Havens, Friend And Lover and the late, great Dave Van Ronk) could only wield so much influence. This in turn meant that another eight years would pass before industry giant Columbia took a chance on Ian, who responded in kind with her equally impossible to ignore two-sided hit single, At Seventeen/Stars in 1975.
To a casual observer, it would seem that Ian had fallen into a period of relative inactivity during the extended gap between the release of those two singles. But common sense dictates that one capable of such high impact original material on an ongoing basis could not and would not opt for a protracted sabbatical unless it was dictated by extraneous circumstances, such as health concerns or family obligations. Indeed, save for a three year hiatus (from 1971 to 1974) for the purpose of reassessing priorities and sharpening her skills, Ian managed to release a respectable six albums within that eight year period.
Most assuredly, since her 1967 recording debut, Ian has not only continued to record prolifically, but has done so with the same impeccable standards and unwavering commitment to musical diversity that characterized those two career highlights. Those and other triumphs comprise the thirty-one tracks in this much welcomed latest installment of the multi-label The Essential cooperative.
This same double CD anthology was initially issued several months ago by Ian on her Rude Girl label as Best Of Janis Ian: The Autobiography Collection, in conjunction with her recently published life story. And while only the cover art has been slightly modified in keeping with The Essential series’ trademark logo, the track selection remains intact in all of its comparatively superior fidelity and aesthetic diversity.
Over the years, that diversity has served Ian well through numerous musical projects, with nods to folk, rock, jazz, rhythm and blues and upon occasion the exuberance of straight ahead rock and roll. And given that Ian herself has handpicked the thirty-one tracks that comprise this collection from her vast catalog, interestingly enough, the overwhelming majority of them fall into the folk and/or acoustic categories; the genre in which Ian to date has been the most introspective.
To that effect, the aforementioned Stars is the most telling track. A first hand observation of the trappings of celebrity, Stars represented Ian’s perspective with regards to the sentiment that was first articulated by Rick Nelson in Teenage Idol and which continued with the Kingston Trio’s Folksinger’s Song and Tony Clarke’s The Entertainer. Therein, Ian maintains an undercurrent of sympathy for her beleaguered and/or fallen colleagues, giving credence in the process to sixteenth century martyr John Bradford’s maxim, “There but for the grace of God go I”.
Likewise, Ian’s adaptation of the late Woody Guthrie’s I Hear You Sing Again (from Ian’s 2004 Billie’s Bones album) is a most heart rending tribute to motherhood. Its sparse backing provides a pertinent setting to highlight the ongoing impact that parents have in shaping the direction in which their charges pursue music and the arts.
In that relatively subdued format, Ian generally managed to deliver an occasional pointed commentary. Witness Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye, a wartime lament recorded for the 2005 Songs Of America compilation that could double as a eulogy for the late President John F. Kennedy. That Kennedy is capriciously alluded to in the tongue-in-cheek Autobiography merely underscores the point.
Yet even that lyrically riveting track pales in comparison to the blues-tinged His Hands (taken appropriately enough from her 1992 Breaking Silence album), a stark and sobering account of domestic violence that showcases Ian in a rare musical moment of transparency and vulnerability. For one who has made a career of opting for the acerbic approach when necessary, such a deviation serves in part to shed light on and beget solidarity with both artist and mission statement.
Nonetheless, those so called pointed commentaries often found a more sympathetic home in Ian’s more aggressively rendered material. To wit, with its tip of the hat to the familiar meter of Bob Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues, the 2000 live take of God & The FBI sustains Ian’s curious adherence to a cultural dichotomy that never really was. Initially exacerbated only by period deferences to a cause that endeavored to split hairs with what ultimately proved to be sympathetic other perspectives (musical and otherwise), its reiteration nearly a half century after the fact under the guise of more common ground instead serves to (however inadvertently on Ian’s part) further highlight the unity of purpose that was indigenous to the two factions from the onset.
However, Ian does not necessarily share that perspective.
“I don’t even think like that”, she said.
To that effect, Thankyous (from her 1973 Stars album) made restitution before the fact. Its inclusion here suggests that Ian’s perspective on the matter remains a work in progress.
“It’s probably a discussion to have among journalists”, she added, graciously defaulting to the self-depreciation mode that is indigenous to the most gifted of composers.
Conversely, when a cause is clearly defined, Ian rallies to the challenge and soars accordingly. Witness not only the 1995 Nancy Griffith-like This Train Still Runs, but the obvious Society’s Child. Ironically, the latter track herein again raises a peripheral concern, given that it is presented here in monaural, as it was earlier this year in the Now Sounds label’s reissue of Ian’s 1967 Verve Forecast debut album.
“The reason we included the mono mix is because it has never before been on CD and is a unique mix, not a fold over of the stereo”, said Now Sounds’ Steve Stanley.
That may be the case for the Verve Forecast rerelease, although given its appearance here as such in this otherwise all stereo collection (and considering Ian’s professed disdain for the monaural option), it seems likely that a suitable stereo mix of that classic single may not be available.
“I have no idea”, said Ian.
“That’s what Universal gave us. God only knows.”
Nonetheless, that minor issue is ultimately the lone source of contention in this otherwise impeccable collection. Indeed, with such uptempo fare as Fly Too High (from 1979’s Night Rains) and the Kenny Rankin-flavored folk/jazz romp, Silly Habits counterbalanced by the country blues of the Dolly Parton duet, My Tennessee Hills and the compelling, self-explanatory Joy, The Essential Janis Ian presents a well rounded portrait of an artist whose remarkable gifts, unique insight and unwavering commitment to excellence have sustained her reputation as a musical visionary for more than four decades.
DO YOUR DUTY - Bettye LaVette (Sundazed)
If nothing else, Bettye LaVette is entitled to distinction for her sheer tenacity alone. Although she made her recording debut in 1962-1963 with a pair of singles for Atlantic and a follow up outing in 1963 for LuPine Records (the label that also launched the career of the legendary Falcons), LaVette’s moment in the spotlight did not come on a grand scale until September 2005, with her acclaimed debut for the Anti– label.
In the interim, the Detroit native who was born Betty Haskins persevered with a series of releases for some of the best loved and most sympathetic labels specializing in Northern Soul, including three singles for Calla (the label that launched the hugely successful career of J.J. Jackson and provided memorable moments by the Sandpebbles and the Orlons). LaVette also followed the Falcons to the Big Wheel label for one single, I’m Holding On. From there, she enjoyed reasonable chart success with Hey Love and several other 45s for the late Ollie McLaughlin’s Karen Records (recording home of the Capitols, Jimmy “Soul” Clark and Jimmy Delphs) and eventually recorded a series of singles for SSS International’s Silver Fox subsidiary.
It is LaVette’s work for Silver Fox that is chronicled here. Recorded during SSS International’s most fruitful period (1969 - 1970, at which time the parent label was enjoying success with releases by Peggy Scott And Jo Jo Benson, Margaret Lewis, Johnny Adams, Teresa Brewer and David Allen Coe), it was determined that LaVette’s work was better suited to the label’s Silver Fox branch. Silver Fox was founded and headed by Lelan Rogers, whose groundbreaking work with International Artists Records brought widespread and ongoing accolades to the Thirteenth Floor Elevators, Arnim And Hamilton, the Bubble Puppy and others. Rogers had promoted one of LaVette’s earlier releases and oversaw production on her sessions for Silver Fox.
Indeed, LaVette’s Silver Fox catalog is a small yet impressive body of work, presented here in stereo and showcasing her capabilities as a purveyor of the dramatic interpreter persona championed by labelmate Gloria Taylor (who provided Silver Fox with a sterling vocal cover of Al Kent’s 1967 instrumental classic, You Got To Pay The Price), as well as the late Barbara Acklin and Erma Franklin. To that effect, LaVette’s reading of Franklin’s Piece Of My Heart (included here), while not deviating from the essence of the original, nonetheless does the piece justice. Likewise Joseph Alfred “Joe South” Souter’s Games People Play, in which LaVette’s well timed vocal inflections serve as a reminder that South’s seemingly objective observations about such vices as infidelity, astrology and self centeredness therein are subjects of derision, not celebration.
But it is with the title track and its flip side, My Train’s Comin’ In that LaVette came into her own as a distinctive soul shouter. In turn, the previously unissued Easier To Say Than Do is pure Memphis soul, with horns that could easily have graced the best Otis Redding balladry. Likewise, He Made A Woman Out Of Me, which transitions from Atlantic-era Stax to yellow label Stax in spirit, complete with Stax’s trademark mid-tempo groove.
Although Do Your Duty is not the first CD release to chronicle this chapter of the LaVette canon, it is nonetheless a fitting testimony to the visionary capabilities of SSS International’s founder, Shelby Sumpter Singleton Junior, who sadly passed away from brain cancer on 07 October 2009. The accompanying detailed and informative sleeve notes by Scott Schinder also give this collection the edge, as does the package design, which engages the familiar Atlantic/Atco motif indigenous to its classic rhythm and blues releases. And LaVette, who celebrated her ascension to center stage by headlining at the prestigious Detroit Jazz Festival in 2007, is now reaping the rewards of perseverance. Indeed, Do Your Duty is a fitting account of a key moment in that long journey to well deserved acclaim.
THINK RATIONAL! - The Rationals (Big Beat)
Of the handful of legendary artists whose recorded legacies have heretofore eluded reissue in the CD format, the general consensus is that among the most highly anticipated and in demand amidst that elite group is the first generation garage band, the Rationals.
With their indispensible 45s for the Danby’s, A-Square, Cameo, Capitol, Genesis and Crewe labels long out of print and in considerable demand amongst collectors and devotees of first generation garage rock, the Rationals’ singles catalog has in recent years only been available via a pair of bootleg CDs. One of these bootlegs combines their lone album for the Crewe label with several representative singles. The other, The Lost Fan Club Album And Unreleased Material spotlights their impossibly rare fan club album with additional singles sides (with inevitable duplication on the latter in the process).
As such, it would seem that the release of Think Rational! would placate those who have waited for more than four decades to be able to enjoy a legitimate reissue of this material. However, for a variety of reasons, Think Rational! is being marketed and made available solely within the British and greater European markets, meaning that the audience that would seemingly be the most anticipatory of its release will have to procure this collection through import sources. To wit, Blitz Magazine was only able to obtain a review copy through the above and beyond the call of duty efforts of a sympathetic British journalist/collector colleague, rather than through the conventional label channels.
To be certain, those who are already familiar with the Rationals’ repertoire will understand immediately what the fuss is all about. Conversely, many who were not first hand witnesses of the band’s success, yet who have subsequently discovered the Rationals’ rich body of work, by definition are largely unaware of the complex circumstances behind their legacy. As a result, many such observers draw well intended (yet nonetheless erroneous) conclusions about the band and their ongoing impact.
To wit, the Rationals (Scott Morgan - lead vocals, rhythm guitar; keyboards; Steve Correll - lead guitar; Terry Trabandt - bass; Bill Figg - drums) hailed from Ann Arbor, Michigan, a college town (University Of Michigan) that is roughly forty miles west of Detroit. Ann Arbor was also home to the MC5 and the Stooges, which often (and quite inaccurately) invites comparisons between the three bands.
But in reality, the Rationals’ remarkable run predates the success of the other two bands by several years. When the Rationals first gained hometown notoriety in 1965 with their number one A-Square label single, Look What You’re Doing (To Me Baby) b/w Gave My Love, Stooges front man James “Iggy Pop” Osterberg (who was also a close friend of the Rationals) was drumming for the Iguanas and the MC5 were roughly a year away from their debut I Can Only Give You Everything single.
Furthermore, the Stooges and MC5 relied on a combination of social commentary and hard rock to fuel their respective repertoires. Conversely, the Rationals were avid record collectors and diligent students of British Invasion rock and rhythm and blues. And to their considerable credit, they learned their lessons well enough to produce far above average original material from the onset.
Another ongoing disparity between assumption and reality is alluded to by project producer Alec Palao in the accompanying essay: “Those that experienced the Rationals in their prime share an emotional bond to the combo that the rest of us can never fully comprehend, but the recorded evidence speaks for itself, as to the quality of the group and its constituents”.
To that effect, there are those who wrongly assume that this bond stems at least in part as the result of provincialism. On the surface, the assumption appears to be a reasonable one, given that the state of Michigan (and the Detroit area in particular) has long tried to assuage the despondency generated by the fading glory of its automotive and music industries with an unrelenting jingoism (which is exacerbated on an ongoing basis by the area’s news media) that serves as a major irritant to many within its walls and perpetuates an image of weakness worthy of either pity or derision to outside observers.
To be certain, no other geographical region enjoyed the boom of creativity that Southeastern Michigan did at the time when the Rationals made their recording debut. Bands such as the Human Beings, the Pleasure Seekers, the Tidal Waves, the Unrelated Segments, Tim Tam And The Turn-Ons, the Shy Guys, Mitch Ryder And The Detroit Wheels, the Wanted, the Capreez, Bob Seger And The Last Heard, the Cherry Slush, the Undecided, the Ones, Jamie Coe And The Gigolos, the Underdogs, the Young Men, the Thyme, the Lazy Eggs, the Camel Drivers, Band-X, the Four Of Us, the Bossmen, the Woolies, Terry Knight And The Pack and Question Mark And The Mysterians were all front runners in the garage band movement, whose collective body of work remains a touchstone within the idiom to the present day.
And in addition to the late Hugh “Jeep” Holland’s A-Square Records, such prolific labels as Hideout, Lucky Eleven, Top Dog, Impact, Maltese, Panik, Sound, Palmer, Dearborn, SVR, Detroit Sound, Enterprise and Spirit provided a steady stream of superlative singles (and an occasional album) by these artists and others of similar intent.
In addition to those enormous contributions to the rock and roll idiom, the greater Detroit area was simultaneously a creative hub for rhythm and blues. On top of the significant input from Berry Gordy’s Motown family of labels, such companies as Ruby, Golden World, Karen, Revilot, SonBert, Ric-Tic, Groovesville, Carla, Ring and Wee Three served to propel such giants of the genre as the Wonderettes, Sue Perrin, Jimmy (Soul) Clark, the Parliaments, Gino Washington, Edwin Starr, Deon Jackson, the Fabulous Peps, J.J. Barnes, the Capitols, Steve Mancha, the Holidays and Darrell Banks to legendary status.
But whereas the artists in question have the common ground of geography, to infer that this peripheral component of the equation was a significant catalyst in the development of their art is anathema to the musical diversity and originality that they represent. And while the Rationals drew and expanded upon occasionally from those who motivated them, their in house material was either on par with (and in many cases, superior to) that which was being released by countless other labels and/or artists globally.
Interestingly enough, it was outside material that provided the Rationals with their most memorable moment. Otis Redding had written and recorded Respect for the Volt label in 1965. But just as the Wanted subsequently took Wilson Pickett’s In The Midnight Hour and the Woolies reinvented Ellas “Bo Diddley” McDaniel’s Who Do You Love and made them their own, the Rationals brought such fervent passion and original thought and into their rendition of Respect that Redding in interviews conducted shortly before his tragic passing in a December 1967 plane crash praised it as the definitive cover, while simultaneously deriding the later (and vastly different) reinterpretation by Aretha Franklin.
Redding’s assessment was most assuredly an accurate one. For whereas Franklin’s legacy boasts an abundance of superlative singles for the Atlantic, Columbia and Arista labels (and with all due respect to the Vagrants’ rendition on Atco), the impassioned delivery, engaging arrangement and sublime vocal interplay nonetheless all joined forces to make the Rationals’ 1966 A-Square single of Respect the standard of excellence amongst the competition.
Many concurred with that observation, as the Rationals’ version finished at a very impressive number five in a listener poll of the 113 greatest singles of all time, published by area radio giant WKNR Keener 13 in early 1969 (with the Association’s Cherish, Bob Seger And The Last Heard’s Heavy Music, the Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction and the Doors’ Light My Fire occupying the top four slots). Conversely, Franklin’s version (which had peaked with a two week run at number five on WKNR’s weekly music guides on 15 and 22 May 1967) was nowhere to be found on that 1969 list.
Had Respect been the Rationals’ solitary moment in the spotlight, it would have been more than enough to ensure their immortality. But further evidence of their musical prowess was not only forthcoming in abundance, it could even be found as close as that single’s flip side, Morgan and Correll’s Feelin’ Lost.
Feelin’ Lost had been previously released as an A-side, coupled with the jazz-tinged Little Girls Cry (which was written for the Rationals by the aforementioned Carla Records solo artist, Deon Jackson, who was also a long time friend of the band). As was the case with the earlier Look What You’re Doing (To Me Baby) b/w Gave My Love single, both sides of Feelin’ Lost b/w Little Girls Cry generated considerable interest that nonetheless failed to translate into significant area airplay.
Not willing to let an original of that calibre fade into obscurity, A-Square reissued Feelin’ Lost with Respect as the intended B-side. But during the week of 05 September 1966, WKNR added Respect to its weekly Keener Music Guides and Feelin’ Lost once again seemed to live up to its title.
To further complicate matters, A-Square also issued the Respect single with the band’s ferocious cover of Eddie Holland’s Motown label mega classic, Leavin’ Here on the flip side. Yet when Cameo picked up Respect for national distribution, it stayed with Feelin’ Lost (now as the B-side) and the following year instead released a rerecorded version of Leavin’ Here as an A-side.
Disparities notwithstanding, A-Square’s efforts to keep Feelin’ Lost in the spotlight eventually paid considerable dividends towards enhancing the band’s reputation as purveyors of first rate original material. Truly one of the definitive classics of British Invasion-inspired first generation garage band rock, Feelin’ Lost is one minute and forty-eight seconds of frantic, urgent garage rock at its finest, graced by unique chord changes in the chorus and bridge and impeccable vocal harmonies. Many who at the time obtained copies of Respect expressed equal enthusiasm for the Morgan/Correll flip and marveled at the fact that radio leader WKNR and other area rock and roll stations such as Southfield’s WXYZ and Windsor, Ontario’s CKLW did not chart both sides of the single.
These concerns did not escape Ann Arbor’s WPAG, who astutely gave equal airtime to the 1967 Cameo rerecording of Leavin’ Here and its flip side, Not Like It Is. Ironically, WPAG was the only area station to afford that single any significant amount of airplay. Still, the Rationals continued to receive considerable attention from the beloved former WKNR radio announcer, Robin Seymour on his immensely popular and highly influential daily television program, Swingin’ Time, which aired on neighboring Windsor, Ontario’s CKLW Channel 9.
Although drummer Bill Figg reiterated his ongoing (and inexplicable) disdain for the track in Palao’s superb essay that accompanies this collection, Not Like It Is not only helped sustain Leavin’ Here throughout its WPAG chart run, it today is widely regarded amongst Rationals aficionados as one of the band’s best tracks. Not Like It Is had been previously released by Albert King as a cut on his 1962 King Records album, The Big Blues under the title, Had You Told It Like It Was (It Wouldn’t Be Like It Is).
Cameo released the Rationals’ version with King’s complete title in parentheses and with the presumably easier to assimilate Not Like It Is as the principal point of reference. And had the label not been struggling for survival behind the scenes at the time, Not Like It Is surely would have followed Respect in terms of exposure and acclaim. Its mid-tempo, somber and stark account of a relationship on the brink of dissolution from irreconcilable differences resonated extremely well with the rhythm and blues-inclined faction of the Rationals’ fan base.
“The guys in the band told me how popular that song was”, said Palao.
“They personally couldn’t understand why.”
Interestingly enough, the version of Not Like It Is included here differs slightly from the Cameo single in that subtle post-production sweetening such as hand claps that were added to the final mix have been omitted.
“I searched long and hard for a copy of the Cameo 45, both promo vinyl and stock styrene, that didn't have high end distortion, that I could dub, but one was not to be found and I know several people who have mint copies”, said Palao.
“ABKCO did not have a tape of the final single version, and the only tape in the Holland archive was missing the handclaps. So I would have had to dub the 45.
“That said, a close comparison of the single and the underdub reveal little in the way of difference. So in the interests of fidelity, I went with the superior sonic source, the tape. Had hate mail on this too. Some people just can't be satisfied!
“I didn't have time to pressure ABKCO to look further. But I wanted the track to sound the best it could. Apologies then to the fans who miss the handclaps”.
Although the Crewe and Genesis era tracks should eventually see reissue on their own CD compilation, Think Rational! boasts a wealth of material from the A-Square, Danby’s, Capitol and Cameo archives. Among the highlights are both sides of their 1967 promotional single for Ann Arbor’s Danby’s clothing shop, the original Turn On and Irrational. Just as the Yardbirds rose to the occasion with their Great Shakes commercial, the Rationals likewise transcended any concerns about the nature of the project and therein delivered a tour de force performance.
Another standout is their 1967 Cameo cover of Sam Hawkins’ Hold On Baby. Hawkins’ Blue Cat label original version was one of two hits that the veteran pioneer of smooth R&B enjoyed in 1965 (the other being the sublime I Know It’s Alright that November).
In many ways, Hold On Baby presented the Rationals with one of their most challenging moments in terms of cover material. Hawkins’ original is a masterful portrait of a seemingly naïve protagonist who enters into a relationship with as much bravado as he could muster under the circumstances, only to find himself as the pleasantly surprised recipient of his intended’s relatively greater expertise in the subtleties of such matters.
Hawkins’ uncanny sense of timing with vocal gymnastics at appropriate points in the story line were enough to warrant a number eleven peak on WKNR’s charts during the extremely fruitful and competitive week of 19 May 1965, holding its own amidst such formidable competition as the O’Jays’ Lipstick Traces, the Human Beings’ Because I Love Her, labelmate Jeff Barry’s wonderful I’ll Still Love You (on Blue Cat’s sister Red Bird label) and the Tigers’ hot rod masterpiece, GeeTO Tiger. Keenly aware of their own abilities and limitations, the Rationals opted for the more aggressive approach with Hawkins’ classic and again succeeded in making it their own.
Although Hold On Baby was another aesthetic triumph for the Rationals, Cameo’s impending demise was just around the corner, which again meant that the label’s ability to promote its latest fare was seriously impaired. Cameo made one last admirable showing in February 1968 with the Ohio Express’ superb cover of the Standells’ Try It and managed one last effort on its subsidiary Parkway label with a memorable single by the Olympics before calling it a day.
Sadly, Cameo/Parkway’s demise meant the sudden displacement of one of the most respected artist rosters in all of rock and roll. Aside from veteran label greats such as Chubby Checker (whose June 1966 Hey You! Little Boo-Ga-Loo is an often overlooked career highlight) and such highly promising R&B aspirants as Bunny Sigler, the Delfonics, Eddie Holman and Chris Bartley, the Cameo family of labels in 1967 boasted a world class roster of garage rock royalty, including Bob Seger And The Last Heard (whom Cameo had recruited from Hideout Records), Terry Knight And The Pack (on the subsidiary Lucky Eleven Records, as well as the parent Cameo label), the New Colony Six (whose Sentar label was picked up by Cameo in time for the release of their second album, Colonization), the Yellow Payges, the Bachs Lunch, Question Mark And The Mysterians and the aforementioned Ohio Express.
As the Cameo/Parkway ship began to sink, the Ohio Express and Chubby Checker sought the greener pastures of Neil Bogart’s Buddah label, where they both enjoyed ongoing singles success. Chicago’s New Colony Six played it safe by signing with hometown giant Mercury Records and were rewarded with major international hits. The Yellow Payges went on to a successful run with Uni Records. And Question Mark And The Mysterians, Terry Knight And The Pack (who, with Knight’s departure for a solo career by late 1967, persevered as the Fabulous Pack) and Bob Seger (whose band changed its name from the Last Heard to the Bob Seger System) all opted for the Capitol tower on Vine Street in Hollywood, California.
The Rationals followed suit and were rewarded with one of the biggest hits of their career. Just as the Dave Clark Five had recorded two entirely different pieces that were titled Everybody Knows, the Rationals faithfully covered the Kinks’ exuberant I Need You (flip side of their May 1965 Set Me Free single for Reprise) and in late 1967 took on the seemingly impossible challenge of doing justice to Chuck Jackson’s unrelated ballad of the same name.
With such Wand label triumphs as If I Didn’t Love You, Beg Me, Any Other Way, Shame On Me and the Maxine Brown duet, Something You Got to his credit, Jackson was one of R&B’s absolute masters and indeed a challenging one to cover. Nonetheless, Morgan’s jaw dropping performance on I Need You was enough to prompt Capitol to pick up the December 1967 release from A-Square.
The single generated immediate acclaim when the Rationals debuted it on Robin Seymour’s New Year’s Eve television special that December. WKNR responded accordingly, as I Need You (which was released with back to back full length and edited versions on the Capitol promo single) finished at an impressive number four on the Keener Music Guides during the weeks of 01 and 08 February 1968, right under such worthy contemporaries as Paul Mauriat’s monster instrumental Love Is Blue, the Fireballs’ exuberant cover of the Kingston Trio’s 1965 album cut, Bottle Of Wine and the late Otis Redding’s swan song, (Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay.
Aside from their widely acclaimed 45s, Think Rational! also includes a copious amount of material from the band’s impossibly rare Fan Club album and a number of previously unreleased tracks. Highlights include an impressive take on the Esquires’ Bunky Records B-side, Listen To Me, an alternate version of their rendition of the Knight Brothers’ often covered May 1965 Checker label monster classic, Temptation ’Bout To Get Me, a serious enough reading of Them’s Gloria to warrant consideration for single release before the Shadows Of Knight provided the definitive rendition (which in turn earned the Chicago quintet a well deserved number one single), a competent reading of Eddie Floyd’s Knock On Wood (which both the Wanted and the duet of Otis Redding and Carla Thomas covered in 1967) and a notable version of Larry Williams and Johnny Watson’s Poor Dog.
Aside from those unique covers, Think Rational! also makes a great case for the band’s songwriting prowess with such above the norm originals as I Want To Walk With You, Sing, Be My Girl, Someday, Sunset and an earlier version of the Crewe label-era Ha Ha.
“Actually, the same person who complained about (the omission of the 45 version of Not Like It Is) was nastier about the fact that I didn't include the Crewe versions of things like Ha Ha ‘because they are so much better’”, said Palao.
“I don't necessarily concur. Such is life.”
While many among the Rationals' faithful would doubtlessly agree with Palao’s observations, there are nonetheless those who were disappointed to see two of the key tracks from the band’s earliest days excluded from this collection. Wayfaring Stranger (a Duane Eddy-inspired instrumental, which the bootleg CD lists as Way Fair Warning) and Strawberry Jam (also known as Jam 1964) are superb early examples of the Rationals’ prowess as musicians. But their omission in this case nonetheless brings with it good news.
“In the final stages, I decided to reserve these for the vinyl reproduction we are doing of the Fan Club album, which is the only place they ever appeared”, Palao explained.
“Much better to place them in context on the vinyl reissue. Sadly though, I've already had hate mail for not including them on the CD!”
To be certain, the record collector contingent is often difficult (if not impossible) to please. But in reality, Think Rational! is as satisfying a collection that could be hoped for, given the difficult circumstances that delayed its release.
“That's the difference between subjective nostalgia, and the objectivity that comes from loving the music”, Palao concurred.
“Wanting to present it in the best possible way, but not necessarily being able to replicate the context in which it originally appeared”.
Indeed, Think Rational! is no mere exercise in nostalgia. Like all great music, it is timeless art that warrants the ongoing adulation. And just as the difficulty in obtaining the band’s singles over the decades ultimately did not prove to be a deterrent to the faithful, in turn, whatever extra effort is required to locate a copy of this collection will invariably reap substantial aesthetic dividends.
LIVE IN ’65 - Pete Seeger (Appleseed)
It is generally agreed amongst academicians and record collectors alike that 1965 was one of the five most productive and diverse years of the twentieth century in terms of musical development. Nonetheless, the exemplary work showcased in this heretofore unreleased live performance (recorded in February of that year at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania’s Carnegie Hall) by folk rock legend Pete Seeger is so rife with resilience and fortitude that it is one of only a handful of works that need not rely upon the benefit of the creative atmosphere of that most productive of eras in which to flourish and/or sustain its impact.
Somewhat more so than the majority of his previously issued live recordings, Live In ’65 highlights Seeger’s attributes as a one man band. Alternating between banjo and twelve-string guitar throughout the nearly two hour set, Seeger approaches the highly diverse material herein with his trademark keen instincts intact. In the process, he once again brings together the occasionally disparate factions of solidarity and academic enlightenment.
Not that such a setting is unique within the Seeger canon. Indeed, even his earlier work with the Weavers was upon occasion sustained with such sparse instrumentation. More than anything, such is indicative of Seeger’s mastery of both banjo and guitar. Instinctively, he incorporates each as either a call and response vehicle, understated accompaniment or full orchestration in deference to the material at hand.
Observers from the folk, rock and related circles took note, readily assessing the viability of incorporating such material into their own repertoires. Most notable amongst those who were successful in this endeavor in 1965 were of course the Byrds, whose exuberant renditions of Seeger’s The Bells Of Rhymney and his Book of Ecclesiastes-inspired Turn Turn Turn provided key moments in the Byrds’ first two albums for Columbia that year. The Byrds took the Seeger connection a step further with their ambitious cover of Lawrence, Pennsylvania native Stephen Foster’s late 1847 - early 1848 composition, Oh Susanna on their Turn Turn Turn album. Foster’s piece likewise opens Seeger’s set herein in timeless and pertinent fashion.
Not necessarily a concession to mere jingoism, Seeger frequently incorporates such devices into his live set as a clarion call of sorts. In the process, he engages the casual observer with the familiar, and from there seizes the momentum generated by the ensuing solidarity to raise the bar with musical and social academia.
The latter device works especially well throughout this set with material that emphasizes not so much the incendiary issues of the day (and indeed in 1965 there were many such issues) as it does the ongoing universal concerns that have the capacity to transcend the frustrations and limitations of partisanship. Seeger utilizes both humor (Manyura Manya, Uh Uh Uh, the exuberant and irresistible All Mixed Up and the tongue in cheek Queen Anne Front) and a relatively more straightforward approach (When I First Came To This Land, the Gospel classic This Little Light Of Mine and the indispensible nod to former Almanac Singers colleague Woody Guthrie with the latter’s standard, This Land Is Your Land) to reinforce the connections with his audience before taking it to the next level.
The next level in this case involves little in the way of discernible transition, given Seeger’s remarkable gift for sustaining his observers’ collective attention. As such, when Seeger holds court with such potentially inflammatory material as He Lies In An American Land, Peat Bog Soldiers, an almost defensive rendition of Bob Dylan’s A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall and his own Where Have All The Flowers Gone (which of course in 1961 provided the Kingston Trio with one of their many signature moments), any possible dissention has already largely been diffused as the result of his endless supply of charisma and his remarkable gift of friendly persuasion.
As noted, those virtues in turn endeared him to fellow musicians, from the aforementioned Kingston Trio (whose flippant October 1959 take on Oleanna provides an amusing contrast to Seeger’s comparatively more straightforward version in this collection) and the Byrds, to the Sandpipers (who enjoyed a sizeable A&M label hit single in mid-1966 with their version of Guantanamera) and Trini Lopez (who Seeger curiously refers to as a “young rock and roller” in his introduction to If I Had A Hammer). The thoroughly immersible, mostly instrumental showcase, Old Joe Clark likewise graced the repertories of fellow banjo virtuoso David “Stringbean” Akeman and country music’s absolute master, Hank Williams.
Thankfully and miraculously, nearly seventy years after he first made his mark as cofounder of the aforementioned Almanac Singers, Pete Seeger remains a prolific contributor to the musical landscape at large, as evidenced by his award winning 2008 At 89 CD for Appleseed. And as Live In ’65 handsomely underscores in relation, his is a vision that remains both undiminished and indispensible.
BITE MY FOOT - John Stewart (Folk Era)
The unexpected passing of the beloved Cumberland Three/Kingston Trio veteran and resident visionary John Stewart on 19 January 2008 has certainly been one of the great tragedies of the new millennium to date.
Interestingly enough, Stewart’s vast legacy is often seen by his considerable legion of devotees as two separate and distinct factions. One of course is his tenure with the Kingston Trio (1961 - 1967), in which he rose valiantly to the seemingly impossible challenge of filling the shoes of the departing Donald David “Dave” Guard.
Guard, who was retiring from the Kingston Trio to briefly embark upon a career as front man for the Whiskey Hill Singers and then on to compere the Dave’s Place television program in Sydney, New South Wales, was widely regarded as the band’s visionary. With only a brief hint of uncharacteristic apprehension, Stewart accepted the challenge and rallied to provide the Kingston Trio with some of its most enduring work, including the landmark live album, Once Upon A Time for Bill Cosby’s Tetragrammaton label.
That which is supported by the other faction is Stewart’s post-Kingston Trio solo career. Many who champion this chapter of Stewart’s legacy do so to such an extent that any of his previous accomplishments are regarded as periphery, at best.
In Bite My Foot, evidence to support the latter perspective exists only to the degree that the career provincialism espoused therein by Stewart is at that early juncture (November 1973) not so much a profession of solidarity with the lockstep mentality of the times as it is a work of healing in progress.
This is not to infer that the rich and diverse personality that defined Stewart from his Cumberland Three days is absent within these proceedings. While the material may draw primarily from his solo era sources, the dry wit that highlighted Once Upon A Time and other Kingston Trio live recordings (reiterated herein with his familiar, “return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear” maxim) is very much in evidence throughout this collection, which was recorded live in Phoenix, Arizona.
Indeed, it is Stewart’s role as a master storyteller that graces both his material and his transitional banter. Traditionally, that banter has opted for a more optimistic and upbeat perspective. Nonetheless, by definition, some revision was inevitable in light of the subject matter at hand. The Last Campaign Trilogy speaks pointedly to that paradigm shift, chronicling as it does Stewart’s participation in Senator Bobby Kennedy’s ill fated bid for the presidency in 1968.
Thankfully, such tragedy, while a necessary inclusion, is not representative of Stewart’s focus as a whole. Indeed, the introduction to Pirates Of Stone County (from which the aforementioned “days of yesteryear” benediction is reprised) segues into a vivid portrayal of vintage Americana that nonetheless celebrates and encourages both participants and observers within a setting borne of long term despondency.
With its admonition of caution, Wolves In The Kitchen follows suit, with Stewart again mixing gentle reproof and correction with the Biblical gift of exhortation exemplified in I Corinthians 12. Likewise the urgency of Mazatlan, which meshes a Marty Robbins-like eloquence in telling a tale of the Old West with the seemingly incongruous juxtaposition of heavy handed execution in an acoustic setting; not unlike that which graced the contemporary works of Michael Martin Murphy, America, Atlee Yeager and Don McLean.
However, at no point in these proceedings does musicianship assume a position of deference to dialogue, social concerns, politics, drama or any other byproduct of verbal expression. To be certain, Bite My Foot is as much a showcase for Stewart’s musical prowess as it is his lyrical eloquence. Witness Banjo Solo Time, in which the instrument that in part defined Stewart’s role within the Kingston Trio is celebrated with the same exuberance that characterized Peter Tork’s banjo excursions during the Monkees’ 1967 tour.
That parallel was perhaps inevitable, given the long standing musical and personal camaraderie between the Monkees and the Kingston Trio. The obvious similarities in arrangement and execution that grace both Wolves In The Kitchen and the Monkees’ March 1967 A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You single aside, Stewart of course composed the Monkees’ December 1967 number one single, Daydream Believer and members of both bands saw one another both socially and professionally. Stewart maintained that same degree of musical solidarity with the Lovin’ Spoonful, for whom he penned the landmark 1968 Kama Sutra label 45, Never Goin’ Back.
Stewart’s impassioned take on Never Goin’ Back closes these proceedings and provides one of two examples of his work that went on to considerable notoriety in renditions by other artists. The other is July You’re A Woman, this set’s midpoint highlight. July You’re A Woman had also been a sizeable hit for Pat Boone on the aforementioned Tetragrammaton label. Boone of course briefly collaborated with the Kingston Trio at the close of the Dave Guard era and was one of the first to explore on record the obvious parallels between rock and folk.
In his final years, Stewart made great strides in bridging the perceived gap that persisted between his two camps of observers by championing both facets with equal fervor. And just as his final performance with Kingston Trio bandmates Nick Reynolds (who sadly also passed away in 2008) and Bob Shane at the Kingston Trio Fantasy Camp in August 2007 reiterated as much, this outstanding collection (which presents Stewart in a refreshingly more bare bones setting than did his The Phoenix Concerts album for RCA Victor) irrevocably assures that his was always a message of hope borne of adversity.
MARVELLOUS BOY: CALYPSO FROM WEST AFRICA -
Various Artists (Honest Jon’s)
One of the major advantages of the CD era to date has been the proliferation of anthologies and reissues that have not only assured the continued availability of countless indispensible recordings, but that have made available as either bonus tracks or stand alone collections a wealth of heretofore unreleased and/or rare material, as well.
To be certain, such collector-friendly musical genres as psychedelic and garage rock, doo wop, rockabilly, rhythm and blues, easy listening, jazz and country have been blessed with an abundance of such repackages, assuring that each genre’s most indispensible artists continue to have accessibility to the faithful, as well as to those who might be just discovering their work. Indeed, if a particular collector was to limit their sphere of interest to any one of these genres, it might seem that everything essential may already be readily available (although given the frequent pattern of extreme discernment common to the collector contingent, that may not necessarily be the case).
But a healthy sense of what over the past decade or so has come to be known as thinking outside the box has provided quite a revelation for collectors who may, for example, embrace British Invasion era rock, yet who (often by choice) remain oblivious to anything outside of their chosen field of interest. Nonetheless, those same collectors are invariably pleasantly surprised upon discovering that there was a wealth of prolific talent that produced superior and like minded results in Australia and New Zealand at that same time, including such artists as the La De Das, Little Pattie, Ray Columbus And The Invaders, the Simple Image, Alison Durbin, the Groop and the late, great Johnny O’Keefe.
Enter Honest Jon’s Records, one of a number of diverse sources of music for those whose sphere of interest supersedes any such self-imposed provincialism. Label founder Damon Albarn is a prolific musician in his own right. Albarn has drawn extensively from the Hayes, Hillingdon Gramophone Company archives (which are currently under the stewardship of EMI) to produce a series of compilation CDs that for the first time make available for general release music from a variety of regions that was rarely afforded exposure elsewhere at the time of its original issue.
One such compilation is the September 2008 Give Me Love: Songs Of The Brokenhearted - Baghdad, 1925 - 1929, which celebrates the rich musical culture that was indigenous to the city in the post-Ottoman period prior to Iraq’s national independence on 03 October 1932 (the reality of which was somewhat different than the idyllic setting portrayed by the legendary Billy Murray in his 1913 hit, Bagdad). The twenty-two track collection gathers the work of fifteen artists (highlighted by multiple offerings from vocalists Sayed Abood and Hdhairy Abou Aziz), whose respective mission statements have a tendency to confound the conventional expectations of many outside observers. For while the focus as suggested by the title of that collection would suggest clearly defined parameters, the artists nonetheless brought to the table a diversity that is certain to generate at least a modicum of curiosity amongst this offering’s potential audience.
In the ensuing years between the original release of these 78s more than eight decades ago and the Honest Jon’s reissue, a number of musical visionaries proved ambitious enough to seek out this music and incorporate the best elements of it into their own work. Most obvious amongst them of course were the Monkees, whose Peter Tork-penned Can You Dig It (from their 1968 motion picture, Head) draws upon the key characteristics of Give Me Love’s Malek Ana by Sultana Youssef. Like minded earlier efforts by the Yardbirds (Over Under Sideways Down), the Association (Pandora’s Golden Heebie Jeebies), the Hollies (Stop Stop Stop) and the New York City-based Devil’s Anvil (who released an entire album of duly inspired material on Columbia in 1967) fueled developments in this direction, although the target demographic of those artists were rarely motivated to investigate the work of their heroes’ inspirations in greater detail at that time.
Since then, the increased accessibility of such material via collections such as these has changed that situation for the better. In turn, Honest Jon’s has followed suit this year with the aptly titled Marvellous Boy: Calypso From West Africa.
Although the mere suggestion of internal competition would most likely be anathema to the label’s mission statement, in a variety of ways this is nonetheless the superior collection. Irrespective of the greater relative familiarity of the music’s basic tenets to the target audience of this anthology, Marvellous Boy: Calypso From West Africa succeeds on a variety of levels, not the least of which is musical diversity.
To that effect, while the musicians herein pursued their art with slightly less pomp and relatively more sparse instrumentation than did their counterparts in Cuba, the exuberance and (in some cases) bluster common to both is undeniable. The latter trait is particularly evident in Godwin Omabuwa And His Sound Makers’ Dick Tiger’s Victory; a salute to Orlu, Imo pugilist Richard “Dick Tiger” Ihetu, a national hero in Nigeria who succumbed to liver cancer on 14 December 1971 at age 42.
Its 1962 original release date makes Dick Tiger’s Victory one of the newest tracks in this eighteen song collection. It also remains one of the most curious, due to Omabuwa’s election to forego the basic precepts of meter and rhyme in favor of free verse, And while the majority of the remaining selections gravitate towards convention in that respect, in no way does that compromise their individuality, accessibility or level of exuberance.
Indeed, the Rhythm Aces underscore the point with Mami, a samba-flavored instrumental that showcases its intensity by paradoxically downplaying the characteristic verve of the genre with judicious use of muted trumpet, understated strings and a salsa-flavored horn arrangement in the refrain, executed pianissimo. Likewise, Ebenezer Calender And His Maringer Band take the high road with their upbeat delivery in Fire Fire Fire (one of four early 1950s tracks by the Freetown, Sierra Leone band in this CD). And the comparatively status quo arrangements of Bobby Benson And His Combo’s Taxi Driver (I Don’t Care), Roy Chicago’s Olubunmi and Steven Amechi And His Empire Rhythm Skies’ playful Nylon Dress in no way detract from the continuity.
And as was the case with the Honest Jon’s Baghdad release, Marvellous Boy: Calypso From West Africa showcases material that provided inspiration for artists who at the time benefited from a greater degree of notoriety and thankfully were capable stewards of the message. The impact of originals such as Bere Bote by Erekosima “Rex” Lawson’s Mayor’s Dance Band on the earliest works of the Kingston Trio is more than obvious (underscored by the fact that the Kingston Trio began their career as Dave Guard And The Calypsonians).
In turn, the boundless optimism of the Famous Scrubbs’ Poor Freetown Boy and Scrubbs Na Marvellous Boy can be heard all over the Melbourne, Victoria-based Groop’s definitive masterpiece, the wry The Best In Africa. And Long Beach, California guitarist Billy Strange apparently had no reservations about taking Rolling Stone And His Traditional Aces’ Igba Suo Gamwen, and turning it into the instrumental Monotonous Medley. Cameo Parkway songwriter Kalman “Kal Mann” Cohen followed suit by adding English lyrics and rechristening it as Limbo Rock, a 1963 hit record for South Philadelphia, Pennsylvania rock and roll pioneer Chubby Checker on Parkway.
As these examples demonstrate, the best musicians innovate and learn from one another and grow artistically as a result. And with the most welcome greater accessibility of these groundbreaking singles via this collection, thankfully the efforts of all concerned will not have been in vain.
THE BEST OF FRANKLIN RECORDS 1967 - 1972 -
Various Artists (Super Oldies)
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