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.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
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.
"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.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
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
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
Saturday, October 6, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, September 24, 2007
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
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.
Friday, September 14, 2007
(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!
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!
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