Happy Holidays - Be Back Next Week!!!

Christmas Presence

If you're getting ready to write to Santa (hopefully, you were good this year) then BSRR would like to suggest you ask for the following musical gifts under your tree:


1. Bruce Burnside: Sample the output of this talented musician - singer - songwriter and you'll find a wealth of carefully crafted traditional music. Bruce's dedication to the various musical genres he enjoys is obvious and infectious. For Bruce's music and musings, visit: http://www.bruceburnside.com/


2. Scott Allen: "Doc" Allen's lyrics range from biting commentaries on the hypocrisy that poisons the public sector to his innermost reflections on love and life. His approach is reminiscent of Dylan, but his voice is melodic and his playing effortless. For more, check out Scott Allen at http://www.milomusic.com/.


3. William Topley: His voice is bigger than life - from soulful wails to soft litanies -, his music ranges from blues to ballads to reggae to rock, and his band changes seamlessly from style to style. Topley is a commanding presence. Find out at http://www.williamtopley.com/.


4. Robert Johnson: Hard to believe the extent of this Delta bluesman's influence on the modern music world based on two recording sessions in Texas in the 1930s. His exceptional guitar playing - picking, sliding, strumming as if two people were playing at once - combines with his powerful plaintive voice to create an indelible impression that inspired Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton among others.


5. The Cutlass Three: Their music is far from low key, but it is surprising that these three relatively young musicians can produce such solid, textured and driving rock. Not only is most of their music original, it is also road-tested, which bodes well for the band's promising future. Check out www.myspace.com/thecutlassband.

More next week - have fun at the Mall, if that's possible.

The (American) Eagles

Although the Eagles' music played a pivotal role in my former radio career, it never occurred to me to write about them until I saw a TV ad for their latest album at Wal Mart. It's not a bad fit - their music was always fairly mainstream - it just seems incongruous that a band whose members brought us songs like "Smugglers Blues" ,"Life in the Fast Lane" and "Tequila Sunrise" would end up being showcased along with the other Christmas merchandise at America's leading discounter.


I suppose I could argue that the first taste of the Eagles I got was being at Kent State from 1972-1974 when Joe Walsh and the James Gang were storming through the greater Cleveland area bar scene, but it would still be a few years before Walsh made the transition from Pacific Gas & Electric to join Frey, Henley et al. My relationship with their music formally started on Martha's Vineyard from 1974-75, fresh out of school and hired at the former WVOI FM, the island's first attempt at a full time radio station. I would wander into the production studio during segments of the classical music program I was supposed to engineer at night, and listen to "Already Gone", a song which I've re-discovered thanks to my IPod. When the station finally caved in to become a rocker, the Eagles quickly became a staple, adding "On The Border", "James Dean", "Lying Eyes", and "Heartache Tonight" among others. I didn't think of them as country rockers , but saw them as an outgrowth of the California music scene, the evolution of the surfer sound combined with a touch of San Francisco. It was "clean" music with crystal clear harmonies and smooth guitar solos.


The next barrier was crossed when I heard Big Dan Ingraham - a staple of New York's legendary WABC AM - introduce "Hotel California" as the longest song ever played on the station, a testament to the band's power to overcome the three minute "box" most AM hits were supposed to fit into. Ingraham's skill at talking right up to the beginning of the vocal was sorely tested due to the length of the intro. The song itself is sort of like a postscript on the West Coast phenomenon from Monterey Pop to Altamont to the Manson family to the celebrity dilettante lifestyle , a dream that sank into the abyss of drugs and dissolution. Being able to play "New Kid in Town" sustained me through a truly dismal job at a Connecticut AM, since the only tunes I could stomach in between megadoses of Tony Orlando and Dawn were "New Kid" and "Bohemian Rhapsody", although Queen was just a bit too pretentious for my taste.


Glenn Frey and Don Henley paced my final reincarnation on a Rhode Island rocker. Frey achieved the ultimate cool by not only co-starring on the hippest TV show of the 80s - Miami Vice - but also summarizing most of the plot lines in "Smugglers' Blues". Henley's powerful lyrics and plaintive vocals haunted the airwaves with "Boys of Summer" and "Sunset Grille" among others, proving that the groups' talent was the sum of its members. When they finally reunited,
I was pleasantly surprised by the freshness of the new tunes on "Hell Freezes Over", most notably "Learn to Be Still ", but honorable mention definitely goes to "Get Over It" - in the same vein as "Dirty Laundry" - and the Nashville twang of "The Girl From Yesterday".


I guess it's fitting that the Eagles newest great American album debuts during America's greatest retail selling season - the holidays - at America's greatest retail outlet. Just like Mom, apple pie, the flag, the Fourth of July and hot dogs, the Eagles have been inducted into the ranks of popular culture icons. I better got out and get my copy now while supplies last.

Replusive Christmas Music

I feel vindicated; yesterday, at a store, I actually heard one woman say to another: "...And they're already playing that (expletive deleted) Christmas music!" For years, I thought I was the only one who couldn't stand the onslaught of Yuletide tunes that spew out of all those speakers in the Mall or pollute the airways from - in some extreme cases - before Thanksgiving until New Year's Day. Actually, in case you haven't noticed, the retail version of Christmas now starts sometime between Labor Day and Halloween. I guess it's good that Johnny Mathis, Perry Como, Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole and all the other holiday music giants get their annual shot in the arm (hopefully, the Crosby estate donates all those excess royalties to domestic violence agencies) but how many times can you hear "White Christmas" or "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" without grinding your teeth and muttering under your breath ?


The low point for yours truly was back in the depths of my sordid radio career when I drew the Christmas Eve AND Christmas Day shifts at a country & western station in Waterbury, Connecticut. The format was nothing but country Christmas tunes, so I had to hear Ernest Tubb singing "Christmas Island" and Johnny Cash doing "Little Drummer Boy" over and over again. Every so often, I had to say stuff like "Johnny's Twin Oaks wishes you and yours a real country Christmas" - which means you best be hitting the barroom right after opening your presents, or "Dave's Auto Parts hopes you have a happy and prosperous New Year" - so you can continue to afford all those expensive truck parts. I ended up so depressed that I got totally wasted for Christmas Day.


In the Fifties, those Yuletide carols had more of a limited shelf life - Christmas Eve and Christmas Day maybe. But now, it's all part of the military/industrial/retail complex. The big scam is that, even if your house is being foreclosed on or the boss cut out the Christmas bonus or your car is making one of those "I'm-about-to-burst-into-flame" noises, you - collectively, WE- are all expected to spend money we don't have to buy things that we think we need, thus driving up holiday sales and giving the economy a boost. Consequently, the Christmas tunes are intended to evoke a Pavlovian response, unlocking a subliminal desire to buy stuff. Years of seemingly innocuous , cheesy melodies have finally been subverted to yet another nefarious purpose.


That's why I like Thanksgiving. All you have to do is drink and eat.

Tina and Me

I haven't been entirely honest about my obsessions. I've always fantasized about being with Tina Turner. I realize there are some obvious drawbacks. First of all, she has no idea who I am, although I frequently feel the same way what with my ongoing identity crisis. I doubt if the six degrees of separation theory would work here; chances are better I'll see Ike Turner playing for dimes in some rundown bar before running into Tina. Secondly, I can't dance like she does. Sure, I try but my body -although marginally limber despite all the miles on it - just wouldn't make any one's liver quiver, except people with really bad vision. Third of all, I can't sing like Tina. Most people would in fact pay me to keep quiet.


But how can you ignore a woman who just exudes sexuality, who bellows and growls and belts out R & B while she prowls across the stage? "Better Be Good To Me" should be the anthem of disgusted women everywhere - the lyrics and the way Tina bites off the words against the simple but powerful guitar riff are enough to back any disrespectful creep up against the wall. Tina's version of "Can't Stand The Rain" is light years away from Ann Peebles, bending the phrases to squeeze out every last ounce of blues. You may very well ask yourself: "What's Love Got To Do With It?" and you're right, this obsession I have with Tina is probably closer to lust but I'm still convinced after one night that she'd be insisting "Let's Stay Together."


I guess the conclusion is, based on" Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome", that you don't stand a chance with Tina unless you're Mel Gibson, and even then it's debatable if you'll score. I suppose I'm destined to admire her from a distance. Of course, there's always the chance we might bump into each other or she might issue an urgent appeal for available old white men, but chances are better that I'll just listen to "Proud Mary" or "Honky Tonk Woman" or even "Nutbush City Limits" one more time, although I'm probably better off sticking with "Dream On" by Aerosmith.

About those links:
John Mayall - www.johnmayall.com
Bruce Burnside-www.bruceburnside.com
Scott Allen - www.milomusic.com
Motels/Martha Davis - www.marthadavis.com
William Topley - www.williamtopley.com
The Cutlass Three - myspace.com/thecutlassband
The Rhode Island International Film Festival - www.RIIFF.org

BSRR'S Top Five Musical Fantasies

I think the roots of our celebrity-obsessed culture probably started with the royal rock stars and spectacular soul singers of the Sixties, when they commanded the same adulation and awe as movie stars did in the preceding decades. Although there's been no official research whether us baby boomers suffer from rock and roll fantasies, the number of over fifty types who still play air guitar and try to dance to Motown hits is a clear indication that at least some of us have refused to let go of our youthful delusions of grandeur - like:


1. Playing guitar like Jimi Hendrix or Jimmy Page: How many times have you - in private of course - picked up a broom or a tennis racket and duplicated the stinging riffs from "Red House" or the spine-straightening break from "Whole Lotta Love"? Luckily, you don't have to suffer the callouses on top of callouses that would result from practicing the same notes over and over again.


2. Dancing onstage like James Brown or The Temptations or Michael Jackson: James was the king of dropping, spinning, sidestepping, whirling and just plain punctuating his gut bucket soul with raw funk in human form; The Temps were the kings of flawless execution of soul-drenched choreography, moving smoothly to their own melodies; Michael Jackson's moonwalk simply defined cool.


3. Drumming like Ginger Baker: This gaunt Englishman was probably the first rocker to make the drums a staple of endless solos, although honorable mention goes to the percussionists who backed Carlos Santana.


4. Singing in a high falsetto like Stevie Wonder or Phillip Bailey or Michael Jackson again: All you have to do is put on "Fingertips Part I & II" and let Steve's 12 year old voice tickle your eardrums, or nearly anything by Earth, Wind and Fire that showcases Bailey's crystal clear tones, or "Thriller" - maybe even some of the Jackson 5 hits - to experience one of the multi-million selling voices of the twentieth century.


5. Writing lyrics like Bob Dylan: Who else could spit out angry metaphors and trainwrecks of images that managed to capture and keep pace with the sweeping changes of the life and times of the "Now" Generation, from the commanding folkieness of "The Times They Are A Changin'" right on up to "Someday Baby" on Modern Times?


I'm sure you have your own musical fantasies. My advice is to nurture them and, if somebody questions your lunacy, just remind them that age is a state of mind.

Thank You, Robert Johnson

My own personal theory of rock and roll goes something like this -first, Hank Williams, whose rockabilly inspired people like Chuck Berry, Little Richard and the like, which eventually translated into Elvis Presley, a black man's voice in a white man's body, and then mushroomed into an industry, branching out into Motown, San Francisco rock, surfer music and so on. Ironically, the mysterious, legendary Delta blues guitarist and singer Robert Johnson may very well be the true father of rock. The Rolling Stones have recorded "Love in Vain" and "Stop Breaking Down"; Cream made "Cross Road Blues" famous; I've heard various versions and variations of songs like "Stones in My Passway" , "Travelling Riverside Blues" and "Rambling on my Mind" from artists as diverse as Led Zepplin to John Mayall to - of course - Eric Clapton. Johnson's lyrics and blues riffs echo throughout Twentieth Century popular music.


The facts of his life are sparse: born in Hazleton, Mississippi in May, 1911; married twice, his first wife dying in childbirth at age 16, his second wife an older woman with three children whom he later abandoned; poisoned to death - supposedly - by drinking a bottle of whiskey laced with strychnine at the age of 27 near Greenwood, Mississippi. It seems that nobody really knows where he was buried - there are three different markers . Johnson spent most of his life as a performer travelling up and down the Delta, playing on streetcorners, with a woman in every town.


The myth of Robert Johnson revolves around a story that he cultivated, at least according to his fellow musician Johnny Shines. Johnson went to a crossroads at midnight to meet up with the devil, and handed his guitar over to Satan. The devil tuned it so Robert could play anything he wanted and then handed it back to Johnson in exchange for his soul. It is known that he started playing the guitar at the tender age of three and was also proficient on the harmonica.


Whether he took music lessons from Beezlebub or not,there is no question in my mind that Robert Johnson coaxed sounds out of his Gibson guitar that still resonate strongly from the grainy recordings he made in 1936 and 1937 at two different sessions in Texas. His biggest "hit" - Terraplane Blues" - sold about 5,000 copies. His ability to play rthymn and melody at the same time, coupled with sliding up and down the neck, create a unique, spellbinding sound, combining with Johnson's mournful wail to define Delta blues, at least for a generation of 60s and 70s musicians. His lyrics - as in "Stones in My Passway" - "Where did you stay last night? / Your hair's all messed up and you ain't talkin' right" - or "Come On In My Kitchen" - "The woman I love took her from my best friend/Some joker got lucky, stole her back again" - are just a few of the verses that have been incorporated into countless blues tunes.


Ironically, were it not for Keith Richards, Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page - among others - deciding to emulate Johnson, he would have ended up a relatively obscure figure. Instead, Robert Johnson's life and legacy have made him into an icon, a towering but cryptic fixture of early Twentieth Century blues music.

Radiohead's Revenge

Change is constant, especially when it comes to 21st century media, and the past few weeks have proven how true this is relative to the recording industry - actually, I'm not so sure you can call it that anymore - how about the "music content" industry? First, the big mean labels zero in on poor Jammie Thomas for those dastardly downloads, and now Radiohead throws down the gauntlet by offering their new recording "In Rainbows" online for whatever price fans want to pay. Consequently, depending on your conscience, you can pay 2 cents or $10 or nothing at all.


"Pay what you want" is not a new concept for the nonprofit arts world. Providence's Trinity Rep theatre company typically offers a similar structure for the opening night of a show. Their aim is to give people a chance to see a play who normally wouldn't attend. This is an excellent way to build audience and break down the perceived barriers that exist between people and the arts - the idea that only the wealthy can afford to see live theatre.

If the arts are to fulfill their mission of accessibility for all, then Radiohead's gesture is truly inspired. It becomes a question of how much do the "music content" companies really need to make. One of the best and worst aspects of 21st century media is the fact that the technological tools that were once in the hands of the few are now available to anyone. People know how much it costs to dub a CD as well as the labelling and packaging so, when you see a CD on sale for $20, you begin to wonder just exactly how much of that is profit. In the past, the labels would chalk it up to distribution and marketing, but the Internet has wiped out most of that function.

The implications of Radiohead's dramatic gesture are unclear at this point, but it has achieved one goal already. People who knew very little about the band before are now very aware of their music. Consequently, Radiohead's stature - and audience - may have expanded enough to overcome any monetary loss from their bold new venture. Perhaps the "music content"purveyors will sit up and take notice.

Buying the Blues

I just spent about an hour in a large chain record store looking for blues CDs, and I can understand why the music is so undervalued.


There are miles and miles of aisles full of rap and hip hop - which is understandable - and a fairly hefty assortment of pop,rock and rthymn and blues - which is also predictable. This particular big national multi-multi-location retailer even had decent slices of jazz - half an aisle - and classical - the other half of the same aisle. Unfortunately, the blues section seemed to be a carefully guarded secret, compelling me to ask a clerk where it was. He lead me to a measly few rows of CDs tucked behind a pillar. I was a little dubious, but began dutifully examining the selection anyway. After all, maybe I'd luck out and find some decent Albert Collins, or a Chicago anthology or some boogie woogie piano.


It was bad enough that the category was so small, but even worse when I discovered that most of the CDs were B.B. King or John Lee Hooker - at least one row of each artist. I like both of them quite a bit, but the assumption is the record store realizes that the long, rich history of the blues encompasses more than two players, whose product had already taken up 30% of the paltry space devoted to the genre. The next biggest category was the anthologies, occupying another 30% of the selection. I always get excited when I see titles like "Masters of the Blues Guitar" or "Greatest Hits" but my enthusiasm quickly dissipates when I took at the list of cuts, and discover that there are maybe two - possibly three - good songs, the rest being fill.


I was down to the remaining 40% of the blues content, except I began finding other CDs mixed in that had nothing to do with blues, apparently dumped there either by mistake or because the record store staff didn't know the artists. There were quite a few Taj Mahals but most of them looked like remixes of remixes, and, of course, a whole stack of Robert Johnsons. No Paul Butterfield, a couple of copies of Albert King's greatest hits, a little Howling Wolf, and that was about it. True, there was one Buddy Guy CD - one - and a couple of Muddy Waters, but no Albert Collins, or Memphis Slim, or Jimmy Reed or Elmore James or Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee or even Sonny Boy Williamson. I'm beginning to understand why so many kids think Eric Clapton is the original blues guitarist.


After much reflection, I ended up with a Robert Johnson - since I never have bought a Robert Johnson CD - an Albert King CD and one called "The Great Women Blues Singers", which actually looks pretty good. It makes me wonder, though, how much shelf space will be left when I come back, and if I'm the only one buying these CDs.


How about those links:
John Mayall - http://www.johnmayall.com/
Bruce Burnside - http://www.bruceburnside.com/
Scott Allen - http://www.milomusic.com/
Martha Davis and the Motels - http://www.marthadavis.com/
RI International Film Festival - www.RIFF.org
The Cutlass Three - myspace.com/thecutlassband
William Topley - www.williamtopley.com

Meltdown in Minnesota

You've got to hand it to the record companies. Their PR departments must be run by mentally challenged chimpanzees. Witness the latest blow for freedom in beautiful downtown Duluth, where the corporate giants singled out poor Native American Jammie Thomas and whacked her with a $220,000 judgement for file sharing of songs off the Internet. After all, she makes $36,000 a year and also supports two boys on her own, so the labels probably figured she'd be able to pay it off in no time. What WERE they thinking- or, better yet, WERE they thinking?

According to the news reports, this worked out to $9,250 per song for 24 songs, probably all by Metallica (You remember when they whined about the Web a few years back). I'd love to know where this $10,000 figure came from - certainly not royalties, or the industry is making a lot more money than they claim they are. Strangely, not a single member of the recording industry has spoken out to even explain how this bizarre turn of events illustrates the problem.


No question, as I say in my Intro to Mass Media classes, that the Web has altered the media landscape into a brave new world. Anyone can be a reporter, a novelist, an artist, a - as they say - content provider because the technology is available to everybody. It's just that simple. Yet there are a couple of relevant observations that might help frame the debate.


First of all, how many years have the major labels extracted as much profit as possible from the hapless consumer, not to mention the absurd ticket prices for even a marginal tour? If the best the recording industry can do is "cookie cutter" pop stars - Debbie Gibson leads to Britney Spears to Hilary Duff to the next teen aged pop queen - then how can they expect loyalty or sympathy? Talent seems to have disappeared , swallowed up by marketing and promotion. Our so-called pop stars are interchangeable.


Secondly, what about exposure? What if Jammie and the millions of others who do likewise downloaded new up and coming artists? This is the double-edged sword of exposure - if you don't have it, you'll do anything to get it, but, once you get it, you'll do anything to protect it.


Finally, how about the millions of talented musicians out there who are totally passed over, ignored by the juggernaut? What are they supposed to, wait for some miracle to drop out of the sky, the dude chomping on the cigar who rolls up in a Cadillac with a contract ? For them, Web exposure is a make or break situation.


Unfortunately, I'm better at defining the problem then I am arriving at a solution. In some countries, you pay an annual fee to the government to use your radio or television. Although it seems onerous at first, this approach in fact gives the media greater independence by cutting the slavish desire to please the almighty advertiser. The fees can be split up among the artists ( This really is the model for satellite radio - paying a fee to get the product you want). Maybe the labels should somehow code their CDS so they can't be played on a computer. Maybe they should just resign themselves to smaller profits .


What they should NOT do is lash out indiscriminately at single mothers to make themselves look nastier than they already do. Maybe the government should get involved, have some kind of major conference to flesh out the issues instead of this ongoing guerrilla warfare approach. After all, in the final analysis, we don't need them - they need US.

Kings of the Keyboard: Memphis Slim

"Started out in Memphis in 1932
Playing blues and a little boogie, too
But I left that town...."

Harlem Bound, Memphis Slim

Memphis Slim's sinuous piano playing and soulful vocals have cast a long shadow over the history of Twentieth Century blues. He cut over 500 recordings with more than 20 albums under his own name. As the lyric says, Slim , born John Len Chatman in 1915 in Memphis, started out tickling the ivories at the Midway Cafe on Beale Street in 1931. He emulated the "barrelhouse" style of players like the legendary Roosevelt Sykes. One of the best examples of this style is Slim's rollicking "Joogie Boogie" on Smithsonian's Folkways label. The same collection showcases his sense of humor , as well as his collaboration with bassist Willie Dixon, on "Beer Drinking Woman"

" Walked into a beer tavern
To show a girl a good time
When I entered I had 45 dollars
When I left I had one thin dime
Wasn't that a beer drinking woman.."

Beer Drinking Woman, Memphis Slim

Chatman/Slim moved to Chicago in 1934, where he ended up recording for both Okeh Records - as Peter Chatman and His Washboard Band - as well as the Bluebird Label under the name Memphis Slim. He accompanied legendary bluesman Big Bill Broonzy until 1944, and came into his own with his band the House Rockers in 1947. Slim moved to France in 1962 where he died in Paris at the age of 72 in 1988.

One of my favorite Slim cuts is "Three Woman Blues", a plaintive lament about how hard it is to love somebody "when they don't love you.." accompanied by superior and very melodic keyboard work . The same lyric is echoed in Bessie Smith's "Empty Bed Blues". Another standout is the classic blues standard "Key To The Highway", which Memphis Slim renders in the same mournful vocal style, a song also covered by Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee as well as rocker Steve Miller.

But the winner in my book is "Harlem Bound", in which Slim sums up his musical career in less than three minutes of frantic but smooth piano playing , ending with a mock conductor's call as the pianist travels closer to his ultimate destination:

"Cleveland...Pittsburgh...Newark, New Jersey...125th Street - that's where I get off !"

Harlem Bound, Memphis Slim

Sometimes there's nothing better than a seamless and rocking piano tune, the hallmark of Memphis Slim's extensive contribution to the blues.

(The) Monumental (John) Mayall: Bluesbreakers With Eric Clapton

John Mayall's 1966 classic "Bluesbreakers With Eric Clapton" is special to me because it was the first record I ever stold - not as in shoplifted, but as in borrowing it from someone and then forgetting to ever give it back. I was the (alleged) lead singer for the legendary Phoenix Blues Band on the Vineyard, and had to learn the words to Robert Johnson's "Ramblin' On My Mind" so I "borrowed" the disc from lead guitarist John Early ( Easily one of the best players I ever met, by the way) and hung onto it. I even tried to imitate Mayall's high pitched vocals.


The album is monumental first of all because of his incredible talent. From his high-powered version of Ray Charles' "What'd I Say?" to "Little Girl" to his rhythmic harmonica on "Parchman Farm", John Mayall showed that he was a force to be reckoned with. "Parchman Farm" pales in comparison to Mayall's legendary mouth harp tour de force - "Room To Move" . His style is totally different from Paul Butterfield's piercing notes and melodic runs as well as Bob Dylan's ragged chords, much closer to the country harmonica made famous by Sonny Terry.


The second monumental feature of Bluesbreakers is the introduction of virtuoso Eric Clapton, making a break from the Yardbirds. Although Clapton only stayed with Mayall's band for about a year, his contributions on songs like "All Your Love", with its innovative riff, and the instrumentals "Hideaway" and "Steppin' Out" give a glimpse of what he was capable of playing and the legend he would become.


Perhaps the most amazing thing about John Mayall is the number of musicians who either played or started with him before going on to fame with other bands. For example, Jack Bruce played bass with Mayall before he and Clapton linked up with Ginger Baker to form Cream; John McVie played bass with Mayall before joining drummer Mick Fleetwood - another Mayall alumnus - in Fleetwood Mac; and Canned Heat's Larry Taylor also contributed bass guitar to Mayall's efforts as well. Some of the other musical luminaries that appeared in Mayall's various sessons included lead guitarists Peter Green, Mick Taylor and Harvey Mandel; the unbelievable Dr. John the Night Tripper (Better known these days as New Orleans' Mack Rebennack) on keyboards; and Paul Butterfield himself on harmonica. Mayall and band also backed blues legend Albert King in 1971, a session which was finally released in 1986 as - believe it or not - "The Lost Session."


John Mayall is still going strong at age 73 - check out his latest efforts at http://www.johnmayall.com/


Since we're on the subject of links:


Get Bruce Burnside's music, touring schedule and philosophy at http://www.bruceburnside.com/

Hear the incredibly talented Scott Allen at http://www.milomusic.com/

Find out about the latest Rhode Island International Film Festival stuff at www.RIFF.org

Martha Davis and the Motels are alive and well at www.marthadavis.com

By the way, summer's not over until September 20!

Catching Up With Cutlass Three

I ran into Steve Cannella last week on the RWU campus - profiled in an earlier post about the group Cutlass Three - still skateboarding and still playing. The band has a regular Thursday night gig at the Beach House in the Island Park section of scenic Portsmouth, RI where the elite meet and greet. Thursdays are now College Nights with Beer Pong and the Cutlass Three, and the action starts at 9:00 PM. If you want to hear some straight up rock that never lets you down, with echoes of rockabilly, blues and legendary English rockers The Clash, then check out the Cutlass Three Thursday nights at the Beach House. For more info on the band, go to:
www.myspace.com/thecutlassband

Radio Daze Part II

Since Van Halen really is going on tour - at least, this week - I couldn't resist telling the tale of the dreaded "Drop Dead Legs" contest after all, which , in its own sexist, haphazard way was in fact much worse than the ill-fated Springsteen food drive. The event was cooked up at the last minute to coincide with a stop in Providence on the 1984 tour promoting the record of the same name. The same rock and roll station that I worked for was given the alleged privilege of finding women with great legs to appear in a video Van Halen would cut while in Rhode Island showcasing the tune -believe it or not - "Drop Dead Legs". WHJY's favorite club at the time - JR's Fastlane - was immediately chosen as the venue for the so-called contest, and the station rushed on the air with a hot promo as soon as possible. As Promotions Director, I was left with the dubious task of somehow structuring the contest.

Normally, most rock and roll promotions were fairly routine. You would give away the tickets or the movie passes or the merchandise to caller number whatever, or simply plug into an existing vehicle created by a record company, a multi-location retailer or a travel agent. I really had no idea why anybody would want to lend their legs to Van Halen and get squat in return except perhaps the privilege of telling their grandchildren someday " Remember videos? You know, MTV? Well, Grandma was in one once..." However, I dutifully made up some entry forms so we would have sort of a structure and headed off to the club at the appointed hour.

It was pretty much a mob scene. I waded through a crowd of women who seemed to have thighs up to their armpits and established myself at a convenient table, handing out and collecting the entries until every form had been filled out. I then beat a hasty retreat to the upstairs office to await the arrival of the so-called Van Halen "people", wondering if David Lee Roth himself was going to show up and judge the golden gams, but his "people" turned out to be a trio of scruffy, nasty LA types who demanded Jack Daniels before they would utter a word. My carefully collected entry forms were quickly relegated to the trash. " But," I appealed to the California scumbags, "what about all the women who filled these out? Mean, aren't you going to like, call them up on stage or something?" I was informed that my role was simply to keep the crowd entertained; the "people" would hand pick the lucky legs.

After waiting until the Fastlane had literally run out of enough room in which to take a deep breath, I was ordered downstairs, where a bouncer the size of a three story building plowed through the throng, clearing a path for us to get onstage. I tried to say something clever, but - fortunately - everything was drowned out by the headbanging music and the roar of the now wasted crowd. Several women whose legs apparently fit the "drop dead" criteria ( which seemed to be how much whiskey can you drink and still see the contestants) were summoned off to the side and given instructions on where and when the shoot would take place. It seemed that all of the women who had dutifully filled out my precious little forms were now too far gone to pay any attention. Back at the office, I had a few ritual shots with the gang, forcing myself to smile at their mindless anecdotes of wasted nights on the tour before managing to slip out.

Speaking of 1984, as George Orwell himself might have said, " Everyone who entered the "Drop Dead Legs" contest was equal, but some of them were more equal than others."

Radio Daze Part 1

The news that Bruce Springsteen is coming out with another album somehow inspired me to think about a really pathetic contest that I helped to run at a rocker in my dismal past that was designed solely to suck up to Bruce. It was 1985 and he would be doing two shows at the Providence Civic Center. The station was intent on somehow getting Bruce's endorsement either in the form of an exclusive interview or by participating in some manufactured event. Rather than make the listeners identify a string of Eddie Van Halen solos - which was the case when we had given away Van Halen tickets - or just being in the right place at the right time to hook up with a "ticket raid" - which meant we were dumping Ratt or Skid Row tickets or some other marginal act that was having trouble filling a club - we decided to do something socially responsible.

Springsteen was using that particular tour to encourage food donations, collecting for shelters in the different cities he was playing, so the contest would promote that humanitarian theme - the audience would bring food to designated locations where they would then be eligible to participate in a raffle for a pair of tickets. We didn't really stop to consider the fact that most of our listeners lived on fast food or cocaine and bottled water, so the idea of, like, actually buying canned goods was an alien concept. Since the salesmen immediately jockeyed their best clients into position as ideal collection points, the ill-fated promotion managed to combine the wrong demographic with the wrong businesses, as well as working in the wrong times.

Consequently, I found myself collecting cans at a foreign car garage at noon, and holding a raffle at a music store in the morning - when the majority of our core rockers were still sleeping off the night before. Half the fans showed up at these dismal gatherings with one whole can, since we didn't specify how many or exactly what they were supposed to bring. By the time I finished giving away the coveted seats, we probably had enough to maybe feed one homeless person for a few nights, provided they didn't mind eating canned peas.

Aware that we were flirting with disaster, the station came up with a final desperate measure: awarding Springsteen the key to the city, assuming that such an honor would draw him out for invaluable free publicity. The mayor was only too happy to get involved, his office quickly agreeing to hold the dubious ceremony a few hours before Bruce's first concert. I was pleased to see several local TV stations in attendance at the appointed hour, but no sign of the great one. Several seconds before the mayor was about to get seriously pissed, the record company promo guy showed up, graciously accepting the honor before pulling us aside and excoriating the station for not only being stupid enough to think we could actually get Springstreen to make an appearance but also pulling him away from dinner with the wife and kids in some Boston suburb, taking pains to imply that the record label he worked for didn't really need us - we needed them.
Fortunately, Bruce sold out both shows, actually giving the Civic Center a profit for the first time in its history, the promo guy continued to visit the station, and I was left to concentrate on more imaginative contests - that is, until the dreaded Van Halen "Drop Dead Legs" competition - but that's another story.

Favorite links:
Rhode Island International Film Festival: http://www.riiff.org/
William Topley's "Feasting With Panthers" : http://www.williamtopley.com/
Traditional music from a virtuoso practitioner": http://www.bruceburnside.com/
Scott Allen's contemporary tunes:http://www.milomusic.com/
Martha Davis and the Motels: http://www.marthadavis.com/
Read all about the "Land of Lincoln(s)" at:
http://rantsfromrockyhill.blogspot.com/
The latest Cutlass Three gigs: http://www.myspace.com/thecutlassband

Judgemental

I did something a little out of the ordinary last week- I served as a judge for best musical "score" as part of the 11th Annual Rhode Island International Flm Festival - a total of over 275 films from 70 countries over six days, according to the official RIIFF poster. I keep thinking that there should be a variation of the Groucho Marx joke about "...any festival that has me as a judge is not a festival I want to be part of..." or something along those lines, but the fact is that it was a privilege to be involved in such a high quality event.

I watched five different films. Based on BSRR's avowed musical orientation, the one that most closely fit the type of tunes typically profiled here was "The Front Runner", an animated story of a Southwestern showdown, a 2007 festival world premiere film directed by John Macdowell. The Ennio Morricone themed soundtrack (You remember those Sergio Leone/ Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns - where Clint, Lee Van Cleef and others would stand, hands poised over their pistols as those stirring, echoey guitar chords thundered through the theater speakers!) documents the revenge of a young motorhead after his idol dies in an abortive drag race, played out in comic strip frames with a desolate desert background. The prelude of tentative strumming eventually devolves into the Hollies' "Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress" underscoring the fact that the only woman in the film - the one who waves the checkered flag - is, in fact, a blond in a black dress.

"Salim Baba" , 2007, directed by Tim Sternberg, is a documentary about an Indian vendor who drives a "cinema cart" through the streets of North Kolkata, showing scraps of film strung together and powered by a projector hooked up to bicycle pedals. Although the score does feature some mindless, high energy Bollywood pop, it is secondary to Salim's commentary. The same could be said of "Quincy and Althea" , 2006, directed by Doug Lenox, the story of a feisty African American couple basically bitching each other out , stuck in the remnants of Katrina ravaged New Orleans. You are privy to some good old fashioned Dixieland, but it seems needlessly discordant and irrelevant.

"Secondhand Pepe", 2006 world premiere, directed by Hannah Shell and Vanessa Bertozzi, is an innovative portrait of the underside of the global economy, answering the question of exactly what happens to the clothes Americans routinely discard. Using Haitian talk radio as a thread of commentary mixed with excerpts from the diary of an early Twentieth Century Jewish immigrant, the film expertly parallels the evolution of "secondhand pepe" (term for clothes in Haitian patois) from the castoffs plucked from the streets of the lower East Side in Manhattan to the modern day equivalent in the sidewalk markets of Haiti. The music cleverly mixes the frenetic violins and tempo of Eastern European dance tunes with the "junkanoo" percussion of the Caribbean basin, making a musical bridge between the two disparate worlds.

But the winner (The envelope, please!) hands down for best score - in my exceedingly humble opinion - was an animated 2007 world premiere film called "Voodoo Bayou", directed by Javier Gutierrez. This lushly but funky detailed short is told entirely without dialogue, the story of a swamp mosquito struck by lightening in a ghostly bayou. The bug wanders into the eerie shack of a voodoo "shaman" , its' electrified bite bringing a doll to life whose antics lead to a fiery confrontation with the cigar-smoking witch doctor. The music combines the classic Hollywood horror elements of guttering violins and heart pounding percussion with the essence of voodoo incantations and hair-raising chants to create a unique ambiance, the dark side of Walt Disney.

Congratulations to RIIFF Executive Director George T. Marshall and his hardworking team for making the Ocean State the ninth wave for the best in independent films, and don't forget to start making your plans for next year's event - you won't be disappointed.

Feasting On William Topley

(BSRR would like to acknowledge Louis Santos, Comm 210.01, RWU, without whose help - specifically, three WilliamTopley CDS - this column would not have been possible).

The first and most obvious thing you notice about Englishman William Topley is his voice - the accent that sounds vaguely Jamaican, or maybe Deep South, or possibly Motown Soul - the way he stretches and bends a syllable to fit it flawlessly to the lyric, just as he modulates it from a drawl to a howl on the 12 standout tracks that make up "Feasting With Panthers". He actually has six solo CDs to his credit as well as three more under the name of his original band, The Blessing.

The second thing is the lyrics, like his musical trip to Cuba, "La Habana":
"Saw you stand in the street beneath a poster of Che
Watching young couples kiss in the Malacon...
All the girls in the Tropicana, they roll their own cigars
I stand there in the dressing room, just drinking it in...
Down at Papa's Marina the old man drinks alone
Writing notes to his son a thousand miles away..." (c) 2001 Trinifold Music/BMG Music Pub. Ltd.

The third and most confusing aspect of Topley's music is the fact that it simply can't be characterized. Besides " La Habana", there is the Spanish-flavored "Los Largos" with its soaring promises of love as well as a more mundane chorus:
"What you gotta do to get ahead these days it seems
You gotta rock Manhattan and Staten, Long Island, Jamaica and Queens..." (c) 2001 BMG Music Pub. Ltd.
"Excuses" is a funky, reggae-flavored "dancehall" tune, a lecture to a former lover who wants him back:
"And I've lost sweet time loving you
I said I've been heartbroken, angry
But now I've found somebody, too
So don't you give me excuses...(c) BMG Music Pub. Ltd./Dalmatian Songs (PRS)

"Drake's Drum" features a combination of blistering slide guitar, quavering tremolo and a little bit of Jimi Hendrix wah-wah style thrown in. That's just a taste of William Topley, hailed by the likes of Barry Beckett (Who's produced both Aretha Franklin and Paul Simon) who said: " He's the best singer I've ever heard."

As far as Topley himself is concerned: "...But often the most moving moments have happened to me in Belfast or Hamburg or on the lonely highways of the Midwest. I've ridden shotgun on the private jet and washed my hair on a cold street in Chicago...When you're Feasting with Panthers, you witness the extremes of the feast. But you don't get to eat." If you've got an appetite for exceptionally tight instrumentation, intelligent lyrics and a voice that simply transcends the genre, then feast on William Topley - you won't go away hungry.

Go to http://www.williamtopley.com/

Don't forget - the 2007 Rhode Island International Film Festival starts this Tuesday with 230 screenings around the state - world premieres, vintage Harold Lloyd, standout documentaries, even Elvis in the rough! Get the scoop at http://www.riiff.com/.

For Bruce Burnside's music: http://www.bruceburnside.com/.

For Scott Allen's "The Evidence" : http://www.milomusic.com/

For yet another twisted commentary: http://rantsfromrockyhill.blogspot.com/

Big D's Top Forty - The Beat Goes On ?

The Gambler - Kenny Rogers

Could be it's the world weary, ragged tone of Kenny's voice, or maybe my memories of riding trains at night, when you look out the window into the darkness and see your pale, lonely face staring back. Somehow, the lyrics, the imagery, the tone capture the right mood, the sense of resignation that pervades us when we hit a low point and we find we need someone to talk to. Life is a gamble after all, a calculated bet that we'll get through another day and survive long enough to enjoy the ride before we all "break even."

James Dean - The Eagles

A tongue-in-cheek rocker that characterizes the band's energy when it burst onto the scene, paying homage to the original rebel himself, appearing in just three movies (Of course, you know what they are - right?) but speaking for every frustrated Fifties teen who felt compelled to look beyond Levittown. After all, thanks to Hollywood, we've all thought at one time or another, that: "I know my life/Would look alright/If I could see it on the silver screen."

Got My Mojo Working - Muddy Waters

Probably the closest thing to a Top 40 blues tune I've ever heard, Muddy's rough but commanding voice giving the song authority, the harmonica meshing perfectly with the driving lead guitar. Often imitated but definitely never equalled.

Don't You Feel Like Crying - Solomon Burke

Burke is truly one of the unsung heroes of soul, still playing and still preaching. This is the song that states the case for companionship, the vocal soaring above the depths of despair, reminding us that loneliness is "such a waste of time." It's epitomized for future generations in "Dirty Dancing", when Patrick and Jennifer slow dance, a long prelude to their first sexual encounter.

Shake Your Moneymaker - Paul Butterfield Blues Band

Incredible slide guitar from Mike Bloomfield, tight backing from the original lineup with drummer Sam Lay combine with Butterfield's hoarse shout to make this one of the stand-out cuts from the band's first album. Talk about energy - this is the kind of music that makes yours truly want to get back into it (but then there's the question of, you know, talent).

Voodoo Child - Jimi Hendrix

Also heard in the background of an Xterra commercial about a year ago. Nobody but nobody can get those sounds out of a guitar like the very late but very great Jimi. Saw him once in Cleveland - there was a bomb threat during the concert but nobody left. So much for the Sixties. Great tune when you're doing 75 in the left lane.

Drake's Drum - William Topley

Without a doubt the most galvanizing, spine straightening electric guitar yours truly has run across in a long time, coupled with his incredible voice. Sounds a little like Mystery Train. Next week, BSRR will take an in depth look at Topley's CD "Feasting With Panthers" (Thanks to Louis Santos, Intro To Speech Communications 210.01, RWU Summer School.

• Here's those links:


• What? The RI International Film Festival is coming up August 7-12, 2007 and you don't have your tickets? Well, what's wrong with you? Go to http://www.riff.org/


• For some of the best traditional music in America today, check out Bruce Burnside's CDs and philosophy at http://www.bruceburnside.com/


• For Scott Allen's insightful music and commentary: http://www.milomusic.com/


• For the Cutlass Three: www.myspace.com/thecutlassband


• For Martha Davis and the Motels: http://www.marthadavis.com/


• For a new twisted commentary on the Bush Legacy: http://rantsfromrockyhill.blogspot.com/


• Later on, yawl - better go to the beach because time is running out!!!

Bruce Burnside's Musical Genius

Look closely and you'll see that America is fast disappearing; the sense of place, of regional identity that has created the rich mosaic of our culture is rapidly being swallowed up by the relentless quest for consumerism - the bleak but ubiquitous landscape of asphalt and corporate logos. Music is no exception. The days when musicologists like Alan Lomax and John Hammond and others penetrated the Appalachian hollows, the vast Western plains and Native American reservations, the prisons, the Delta cotton fields, and the other nooks and crannies of our shared musical experience are long gone.


Fortunately for future generations, a modest, unassuming and extremely talented musician/author/musicologist/educator named Bruce Burnside is hard at work keeping this aspect of our culture alive. Bruce has dedicated his entire life to playing, recording and respecting these important traditions. Recently, BSRR caught up with Bruce to ask a few questions about his work and all important goal of preserving our musical culture.

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BSRR:

Why is preserving traditional music so important? What is that our culture gains by making sure that the music remains intact for future generations?


Bruce Burnside:

Traditional music for any culture is a reflection of the different social levels within that culture. For America, the diversity of the land and living experiences along with the expanse of years created songs. These songs, with their origins in distant lands, were created to tell the American experience. It's important for us to keep the wisdom in these songs alive to teach us about our lives today. The daily interpretation of old melodies and stories gives us, as a culture, free will and creativity to put music in our hearts. That experience gives traditional music life for each generation and provides a national idiom of social communication.


BSRR:

What got you interested in traditional music to begin with?


Burnside:

I got interested through learning to play guitar. The techniques of playing took me from Chicago blues to Delta blues, from Johnny Cash to Jimmie Rodgers , from what a guitar's role was in a string band, bluegrass band, jug band, blues band, jazz band, and rock band to the folk revival of the Sixties when traditional music resurfaced. I didn't learn everything but at least became aware of all of it.


BSRR:

How many instruments do you play? Which one do you prefer and why?


Burnside:

I'm still learning to play the instruments I play, which includes the banjo family, the mandolin family, electric and acoustic guitar and assorted others. The banjo family includes the five string instruments of banjeaurine, piccolo banjo, banjo, cello banjo, mandolin banjo, and ukulele banjo; different banjos are set up to play different styles, such as claw hammer or "frailing", bluegrass and classic, using nylon or gut strings as do the first four I mentioned. Mandolin, mandola and mando-cello are the mandolin family instruments I play. In addition, if I need a dobro, auto harp or dulcimer part for a recording, and I can't find anyone who plays, then I'll try to locate the instrument and practice enough to record the part. Actually, I don't really feel accomplished on any instrument. I just play and most of the time it sounds good; I have learned my limits and what not to attempt.

Different instruments inspire me in different ways. I write melodies for the banjo that are "banjoesque"; in other words the sound and physical placement of the notes contribute to the melody that gets written. Learning from the classic banjo compositions of the period from 1850-1910 along with the techniques found in the fiddle/banjo music of the Southeast, has helped give me a foundation to work from. The same idea applies to mandolin and guitar. Certain instruments have certain sounds that bring out different responses from my heart to the instrument. I write with my heart, by the way. It's something I've learned to trust and I let it take the lead in guiding me from the beginning to the end of a melody. My entire inner body projects the rhythm. Rather than prefer one instrument, I let them all have their place.

BSRR:

Speaking of writing with your heart, there are two songs in particular on your CD " Three Stag To An Oak" ((c) Bruce Burnside, 2004, Tortoise Humor Recordings) that touched my heart, "Oh My Little One" and "A Path Towards Erin". What inspired you to write these songs?

Burnside:

"Oh My Little One" is a lullaby to us all. It is about life's journey and was inspired by being a child, an adult and a parent. "A Path Towards Erin" is in the classic banjo tradition of the 1880-1890 period of five string banjo. I wrote it with an Irish sound, hence the title.

BSRR:

How did you devise the name Tortoise Humor Recordings?

Burnside:

The name Tortoise Humor was a phrase that one of the members of the band I've been in for 27 years used to describe my sense of humor. I studied herpetology as a young person and kept hundreds of turtles, tortoises, snakes,horned toads, etc. The phrase fit - the motto is "A winning way at a slower pace". It also means that it is my studio. I work on projects that I choose. It is not commercially available. I designed it to do multiple acoustic tracks. The hand time is set for an acoustic sound. I don't have to do something I don't like or a poor job because it's rushed.

BSRR:

What is the purpose of Forgotten Wisdom? How does it fit in with your mission of preserving the past?

Burnside:

Forgotten Wisdom is a 501 (c) 3 (IRS designation for nonprofit - Editor's Note) which allows me to write and receive grant money and donations. The mission statement includes preserving fretted string instrument techniques that are lost or endangered.

BSRR:

What musicians have you played with that impressed you the most?

Burnside:

The most impressive musician I've worked with is Vassar Clements. His playing always had great power, vitality and surprise. ...A person I got to know a little, initially through Vassar, was Jethro Burns who was the greatest player I ever heard. No matter who he was on stage with, Jethro could raise the intensity effortlessly...There is a very long list of other musicians I have stood next to that have impressed me - Johnny Cash for his focus and simplicity, Willie Nelson for his ability to pull in an audience, Steve Goodman for his showmanship and musical versatility. Remember, I play, listen and compose with my heart. All the sounds that touch me make a deep impression - Sonny Boy Williamson, The Band, Eva Cassidy... the entire New Grass crew of Sam Bush, Bela Fleck , Edgar Meyer, Jerry Douglas and the next generation like Chris Thile and Bryan Sutton.

BSRR:

What projects are you currently working on? What projects are you planning for the future?

Burnside:

Currently I'm writing, recording and composing for a radio documentary about the area of Wisconsin I live in. It's a small, remote valley settled by the mixed blood descendants of French Canadians and Ojibwa Indians in 1884 after the final treaty was signed. The original families are still the residents. I have collected information for over twenty years. Last year, I wrote a presentation on the area and recorded the elders, funded by the Wisconsin Humanities Council.

In the future, I hope to complete a musical history of westward expansion through the Midwest. Some songs have been written and some research done. I'm also near the end of an instrumental CD. I have at least two more CDs worth of material written. I'd like to write something for children in hospitals and am considering researching and writing a play for kids to perform about health, nutrition and weight.

I do what I do because it makes people happier, helps kids learn and develop, and it makes me happy as well.

*************************************************************************************

There is absolutely no question in my mind that long after the latest "manufactured" pop star self destructs in some trailer park tragedy, the work and the music of Bruce Burnside will help define and enrich our culture for generations to come. But don't just take my word for it. For complete information on the Tortoise Humor catalog, performance schedules and general information, go to http://www.bruceburnside.com/ . You'll discover the work and the philosophy of a true musical genius.

Helpful Links

Just to keep you all well informed:

For info on the Rhode Island Film Festival, go to: www.RIFF.org

For The Cutlass Three's latest gigs: www.myspace.com/thecutlassband

For Scott Allen's music, info, and downloads: www.milomusic.com

For more on Martha Davis and The Motels: www.marthadavis.com

For truly twisted humor: http://rantsfromrockyhill.blogspot.com

For Dick's incredibly insane sci-fi novel (I get $3 a copy!!!):
Go to www.Xlibris.com
Got to homepage, click on bookstore
Enter title: Winworld

I'll keep adding to this in the future.

Shameless Self Promotion Part 1

In recognition of the fact that the two things I like to write about are music and humor, I've begun another blog (After all, it's free, and there's no freelance markets anymore anyway). The title is "Rants From Rocky Hill. The correct web address is http://rantsfromrockyhill.blogspot.com/

I've decided that, in order to maintain quality, I will now do posts on both blogs in two week intervals (For the two or three of you who read this !).

I am also going to focus the music blog on artists I know that I think deserve more exposure, so, in two weeks, you can read all about a truly gifted practioner of traditional music, a friend since the age of 18 named Bruce Burnside.

Last but not least before I get off the soapbox and get back to reality, if you'd like to contribute to the Big D. Retirement Fund, why not check out my totally insane scifi epic "Winworld" and maybe even buy your own copy. Just go to the Xlibris site and search by the title.

That's it for now - peace out from your trusty correspondant.

Only the Lonely

I can't recall a year in my life in which I've experienced so much emotional pain. My close relationships have been colored by death or disease or misinterpreting someone else's emotions due to my own desperate need for light at the end of the tunnel. So much of my life has been spent alone that I've turned to specific songs over the years for solace, to somehow fill the void. These tunes don't necessarily cheer me up, but they help me hold on until the pain softened and the tears stopped, which they eventually do.


I first heard The Motels back in the early 80s when I was working at a suburban Boston radio station, surrounded by relationships but unable to form one myself.The song on their 1981 album "All Four One" (Capitol) that had the most impact on me was Martha Davis' existential LA lament "Only The Lonely" (Not to be confused with the Roy Orbison song). Fortunately, she is still recording; you can get the latest information about her and the band by visiting http://www.marthadavis.com/. One part of the site has excerpts from an interview with Martha, in which she describes herself as a child: "I was a loner...awkward and self-deprecating. Not much has changed.."( (c) 2007 The MotelsMarthaDavis ) Most people I know would agree that this fits me perfectly.


Only The Lonely created a vision for me, evoking the emptiness of the so-called modern world, the existential groping between people trying to connect. Her dramatic vocal paints a picture of a lost relationship: "We walk the loneliest mile / We smile without any style/ We kiss altogether wrong / No intention". ( Martha Davis / Clean Sheets Music/BMI) My interpretation was the sensation of waking up in a relationship, realizing , as so many people do, that you've pushed yourself or been pushed into a love affair that was a mistake from the beginning, but you cling together out of fear. As the refrain echoes" It's like I told you/ Only the lonely can play" (Martha Davis / Clean Sheets Music /BMI) .

So often in life we drift aimlessly from one failed attempt at love to another, allowed ourselves to be bruised because we feel we need companionship. The older I get, the more I realize how important it is to see things for what they really are. At times like this, I appreciate the insight of artists like Martha Davis.

The Evidence is Clear

I've rarely met someone who had the courage to act on their convictions, as well as unbridled creativity, a low key, laid back personality and incredible energy, but Scott - Doc - Allen combines all of these elements. I met him in a writers' group in Providence about a year ago, but had previously seen his name in the Providence Journal. After spending seven years as Medical Director for the ACI in Cranston, Scott resigned in protest over the mishandling and cover up of the beating of a mentally ill inmate housed in isolation. His moral stance made headlines, making me wonder how someone could be brave enough to sacrifice his job to make such a definitive statement.


Scott then shifted his focus, joining Physicians for Human Rights, working on their Campaign Against Torture. Doc Allen reviewed and published the causes of death for over 100 detainees primarily at "Gitmo" Bay in Cuba, and collaborated with major medical associations in helping develop ethical guidelines for health professionals relative to abuse and torture, which included testifying before the American Medical Association's annual meeting. PHR is on the verge of releasing a report co-authored by Scott detailing the likely health consequences of waterboarding, sleep deprivation, prolonged isolation, stress positions - the still permitted "enhanced interrogation techniques" - which are , in fact, torture and should be outlawed.


You might ask yourself how Scott Allen finds the time to make music, especially his CD "The Evidence", recorded entirely in his home studio in Cumberland, Rhode Island over a seven year period. I used to shudder when I heard the words "home studio" during my rock and roll radio days, never knowing if the battered cassette submitted by some wannabe rock stars would be brimming with off key vocals and badly mixed instruments, but "The Evidence" is a polished, high quality production. Scott explains in the accompanying notes that the 12 songs on the CD represent his experiences during the prison years.


The opening song - "The American Way" - is a freewheeling indictment of the cynicism, corruption and hypocrisy that pervades the system, focusing on the way things work in Rhode Island, which I've always thought is not much different from any other state - just small enough so that things are more obvious. Scott's vocal is very Dylanesque, world-weary yet playful, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar and harmonica, with percussion as well.


"You Ran" combines acoustic and electric guitar, organ and drums, as well as lead vocal and backing harmony with a bluesy feel, bringing new meaning to the phrase "one man band". It refers to a relationship, repeating the line "tears flow to the sea" and the "lightness/darkness between us", perhaps suggesting that any close interaction between two people is multi-dimensional.


Scott documents the prison routine in "Tuesday Morning", accurately describing the absurdity of the situation, the mistakes that are routinely covered up, the daily indignities that are part of the system, and the fact that he is supposed to cure the sick. The question is, who is sicker - the convicts or the people who keep them there? Doc Allen mixes electric guitar with piano riffs and percussion to give the song a bouncy, rockabilly feel.


"Help Me Make it Through This Day" is a love song about two people who need and comfort each other, the closeness that comes with time, the realization that your partner/companion/spouse is the one true thing in your life that sustains you. Scott's lead guitar on this song is exceptional, providing a slow rock and roll feel reminiscent of those heavy metal ballads by Aerosmith or Guns and Roses, leaving a powerful emotional impression.


Travelling Show" starts with a thunderstorm, then describes a lonely trip to another city where it "rained for hours between office towers" although the singer longs for the way back home. I felt an overwhelming sadness in the lyrics, the plaintive desire for more familiar surroundings.

In describing the music, Scott says that " the working title for this project was 'Flattened', a term used by inmates to describe finishing their full sentences..." Luckily, he managed to spend his time behind bars observing and reflecting and ultimately resisting the realities of the American penal system. Most of us are content to sit back and talk about making a difference; it takes a courageous, unselfish, modest human being like Scott Allen to stand up and actually do something about it.

For more information on Scott and his music, visit http://www.milomusic.com/

You Say It's Your Birthday

This week is my birthday, so I always allow myself to look back on where my life has taken me so far and where I have to go from here. Since my birthday is in the summer, I usually celebrated it on the Island, so I thought I'd share a few tunes that reflect both the passage of time and the influence MV has had on my life. No matter how many houses are built, regardless of how many daytrippers visit with one set of clothes and a ten dollar bill (As some people used to say, they visit the Island with both, but don't change either one while they are there) it is one of the most beautiful places in the world.


Joshua Gone Barbados - Tom Rush
When I was a gawky, fat kid at the age of 16, I made about $15 a week at the Chilmark Community Center working for my brother who was the director (Talk about nepotism!). I would spend most - if not all - each week at the Mooncusser Coffee House in Oak Bluffs. That's where I first heard this song. Although it is quietly understated, it documents the brutal suppression of sugar cane workers on the Caribbean island of Saint Vincent. Rush's exceptionally fluid guitar playing intertwines with his plaintive vocal to capture the mood of subdued acceptance.


Born in Chicago - Paul Butterfield
If you've read this blog more than once, you know how obsessed I am with Paul Butterfield. He was really my introduction to the blues. At the age of 19, a few friends and I formed the Phoenix Blues Band , so named because it rose from the ashes before each performance. Our first "gig" was at the Vineyard Haven Yacht Club, and this was one of the ten songs we knew. Unfortunately, by the time the break came around, we had gone through our entire repertoire, realizing we still had another hour to go. We devised the incredibly clever idea of simply reversing the order, so we started back up, turning "Born in Chicago" into an endless jam. Nobody noticed it was the same tune we had just played BEFORE the break. Fortunately for the music industry, I abandoned my career as soon as that summer was over.


Amazing Grace - Judy Collins
Considering all the times I really pissed my mother off, she claimed she cried when I dedicated this song to her during a special birthday show I did on WVOI , the "Voice of the Islands". Let me start by dispelling the typical male myth that I have spent my life looking to replace her. We had more than our share of violent arguments over hair, clothes, language - you name it. I didn't want anything to do with her for years, but, as is frequently the case, the more I looked at her as a human as opposed to an authority figure, the more I began to like her. She had been a star athlete in high school and worked as a gossip columnist in the 1920s. She had a razor sharp wit and always wanted to be an actress, but her specialty was entertaining people, which she did very well. My birthday present to you, Mom, is that I forgive you for constantly referring to me as "that big dummy." I probably should have mentioned that her name was Grace.


Desolation Row - Bob Dylan
It has taken me a long time to appreciate Bob Dylan, but there is no disputing his status as a cultural icon, producing some of the best imagery of the Twentieth Century. I could spend hours dissecting the references in this particular song, but it is significant in the rise and fall of WVOI. One Friday afternoon in October, 1975, as I was doing my show, one of the station stockholders walked in and informed me that my career was coming to an end in 24 hours because the station was shutting down. Consequently, when I did my last show the following morning, "Desolation Row" was the last song I played before the station went dead. Talk about poetic justice!



Happy birthday to you whenever it occurs. Personally, I don't want any presents this year, because I given myself the best one of all - I no longer hate myself. As some famous rocker once said: " I was so much older then/I'm younger than that now."

Delaney & Bonnie

I'm back - barely - from the _______ reunion. Sorry I've neglected you, but the good news is I've got some new music to tell you about in the weeks to come, including tunes from my friends Scott "Doc" Allen and Bruce Burnside. I was wrong about drinking, shouting and clapping to "Gimme Some Loving" at the reunion, but pleasantly surprised when I put on a homemade Delaney & Bonnie CD and got a positive reaction to a handful of cuts from "On Tour with Eric Clapton".

Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett's credentials were solidly established before the album came out in 1970, Delaney as a studio musician in LA, and Bonnie as the only white "Ikette", performing with the Ike and Tina Turner Revue. Apparently, the duo met Eric Clapton when they were opening for Blind Faith. There's a pretty clear linkage between the "Tour" lineup and Derek and the Dominos, since Clapton put the Dominos together during that same year, using at least three musicians from the "Tour". 1970 also saw the release of "Mad Dogs and Englishmen", including "Friends" alumni Leon Russell and Rita Coolidge as well.

The opening cut - "Things Get Better" - is a prime example of what happens when the best session players get out of the studio and grind out the same tightly wound sound, the vocals, horns, drums and guitars blending perfectly in this uplifting tribute to love. "Poor Elijah - A Tribute to Robert Johnson" is a showcase for Clapton's slide guitar and Delaney's impressive vocal range, making you think that, if Robert Johnson had played electric guitar, it would sound like this.

"Only You Know and I Know" showcases the perfect blending of Delaney and Bonnie's voices, backed by a soaring horn section. The real killer on this quartet of songs is Little Richard's "I Don't Want To Discuss It". This closed out the tour, and it is nonstop, gradually rising to a frenetic climax, Delaney begging "somebody help me" as Clapton just keeps on jamming away.

There are six other Delaney & Bonnie albums, including one of my first records - " The Original Delaney and Bonnie - Accept No Substitutes" . This music is positive, uplifting and always provides a good time, probably because the affection between the two singers shines through every song.

See, reunions aren't ALL bad (just the food!).

Time Marches On

I really hate to talk about age, but I'm taking a break next week to go to my _________ reunion. I decided to list some of the tunes that were popular then. Unfortunately, if you do a little research, you'll be able to determine the answer as to when they were recorded. Identify the year correctly, and I'll let you submit a guest column. Second prize is a trip to the annual Buzzard Festival in Hinckley, Ohio or the cash equivalent. Thanks to Billboard for the following list:

Gimme Some Lovin' - Spencer Davis Group
Still some SERIOUS rock and roll. Isn't that Stevie Winwood laying down those punishing organ riffs? Did you know that Muff Winwood was also in the band (What's next - Buffy Winwood? Why is it I get the feeling Muff's career was somewhat abortive?) Is it true that every time this song plays on the dancefloor with a group of over 50 types who've had too much to drink that they feel compelled to shout off key and clap haphazardly? Stay tuned.

Soul Man - Sam and Dave
The Muscle Shoals gospel sound bursts onto the charts, with the duo's seamless shouted vocals ably backed by those staccato horns. It doesn't really bother me that the tune was covered by the Blues Brothers, but I drew the line when they played it at Dole campaign rallies (I'm an OLD man - duh duh dut da dada da)- etc.

Groovin -Young Rascals
The ultimate bar, beach party, summer weekend and all around get high anthem from Felix and the gang. Blue collar pop that cuts across all socio-economic lines.

Happy Together - The Turtles
This song is a lot like cotton candy - fluffy and sweet but it doesn't last long. It seems so naive - but then so were we.

The Letter - The Box Tops
This tune is all about the importance of snail mail - I mean, why write your baby a letter when there's instant messaging? - and the tired, Mick Jaggerish quality of the vocal. Still,you get to hear a plane engine.

Incense and Peppermints - The Strawberry Alarm Clock
I know, I know - this is supposed to be the precursor of psychedelic rock, etc. etc., but it just takes itself too seriously. It's so PROFOUND.

Respect - Aretha Franklin
Who knew this song would turn out to be the theme of the latter half of the Twentieth Century? Aretha is the original feminist.

Windy - The Association
This song has a special place for me. I really hate the Association, but this tune is forever linked to someone who meant a lot to me that I'll never see again.

Did you figure out the year yet? Keep me posted.

Bullseye in the Bargain Bin

Sometimes the best quality music can be found in the most unlikely places, provided you know the songs and the artists, so combing the discount racks in your local music emporium can be rewarding. I stumbled on the "Blues" series of Jukebox Hits one day, amazed as I scanned the artists and cuts to have uncovered so much great music for so little - 4 CDS for under 10 bucks.
The trade-off is that the collection was mastered in Holland on some obscure label, so all you get is the names of the artists and the tunes but no info as to when and where or with whom.

Looking randomly at Volume 3 reveals two cuts by Ray Charles that aren't very good. You'd think that all the music made by a genius like Charles would be superior. It's obvious here that he had the feel of the blues but was still refining that distinctive sound that would earn his place in American music.

John Lee Hooker's "Boogie Chillun" was supposedly made in 1947, apparently getting some airplay in Detroit. Although his deep growl of a voice is unmistakable, the music is simply one protracted, driving guitar riff, a signature sound that was picked up by both Canned Heat and Norman Greenbaum. Always imitated, never equalled, Hooker's presence is dark and ominous but authentic.

Bo Diddley may very well be one of America's most underrated guitar stylists, always willing to take chances with his box guitar, to drift from blues to jazz to psychedelic rock back to "gut bucket" R & B. "Doctor Jeckyll" is another good excuse for Bo to demonstrate to a newer audience that he holds the original Phd in rock.

"Everyday I Have The Blues" evokes the early Twentieth Century lone bluesman tickling the ivories. Lowell Fulsom delivers on this cut, hitting just the right mix of world-weariness and bouncy keyboards. The song has been covered by B.B. King and a few others.

Pianists Roosevelt Sykes and Memphis Slim are represented here with "Out on a Limb" and "Harlem Bound". Sykes' supposedly had big hands that allowed his fingers to stretch across and encompass more of the keyboard, while Slim's playing was smooth and melodious, "Harlem Bound" dealing with that favorite blues motif - the train- as well as a tongue-in-cheek imitation of the conductor calling off the stations as the train approached "One Hundred Twenty Fifth Street".

Jimmy Witherspoon contributes a jazzy version of "Kansas City", and the disc closes out with "Trouble Blues" , a lament over broken love from Charles Brown. I'll get back to more of these tunes eventually, but don't forget - just because its on sale doesn't mean its Iron Butterfly's second album or one of those so-called "Greatest Hits" collections where maybe two out of a dozen songs were actually hits. Keep your eyes open for greatness.

Big D's Hit Parade, Part Two

Continuing with my own personal Top 40....

Morning Dew - The Grateful Dead
The Golden Road To Unlimited Devotion was probably the second album I bought with my own money, prompted by the fact that I had seen the Dead live at the Village Gate. Ironically, they were OPENING for another band that dropped out of sight. Morning Dew is highlighted by Jerry Garcia's tentative vocals meshing with plaintive guitar chords. The song has such a loving quality to it, painting a picture and creating a mood. In my mind, it marks the beginning of the reign of the Dead.

Panama Limited - Tom Rush
Rush's deft use of a kitchen knife sliding up and down the guitar strings coupled with his authoritative vocals and meticulously clean finger picking makes this song a folkie classic, complete with the various "train" sound effects. He does his musical homework well, able to adapt and refine various guitar styles until he makes them his own. "Panama Limited" was best experienced from the vantage point of a crowded cafe table in the old Mooncusser on Circuit Avenue in Oak Bluffs.

Heard It Through The Grapevine - Gladys Knight and The Pips
This song simply drives itself - a blend of the funkiest piano hooks on record combined with Gladys' intense vocals and the staccato punctuation of the Pips, a solid R & B riff that never lets you down. I always wonder why Marvin Gaye's version got all the attention.

Chest Fever - The Band
A true virtuoso run for keyboardist Garth Hudson as he jumps from organ to piano to synthesizer and back, the song's refrain echoing like thunder across some vast imaginary plain. I used to always visualize the song being performed live, with Garth as the centerpiece, rising up from the stage on some kind of hydraulic platform during his solo, hunched over his array of instruments.

Leavin' Trunk - Taj Mahal
Or any of the other cuts off his first eye-opening album - who was this dude who ground out such tight, hard-driving, electrifying blues? Taj's voice on this cut is a controlled, melodic shout, while the harmonica provides a dynamic, amplified wail. If you ever get a copy of this record, sit back and relax to "The Celebrated Walking Blues", kind of like Taj Mahal's musical thesis on the nature and history of the blues.

By the way - how about YOUR Top 40? Send me some titles and brief descriptions and I'll add it to the list.