Big Noise From Little Rhody

You would think the "Truth in Music Advertising Act" recently passed by the Rhode Island State House should have originated in New York or California, since most of the retired , decidedly over the hill performers affected by this landmark legislation live in those two states. However, the big question becomes - why is this bill so important?


Back when my generation was so obsessed with the Beatles that any kind of merchandise even vaguely suggesting the Fab Four was instantly devoured by legions of fans, an album came out called something like "Best of the Beatles" . Not only did the title allege that this particular piece of vinyl contained all their greatest hits, but also the price of the record was extremely reasonable (which should have been the first clue that something was rotten in Denmark). It was only when eager consumers actually looked at the record that they discovered the rip -off - the "Best" was actually the last name of the Beatles first drummer - so "Best of the Beatles" was a stroke of marketing genius, probably earning somebody a fast buck or two at the time, but now the record is listed the way it should be: "Pete Best: Best of the Beatles." However, truth in labelling when it comes to the recording industry is fleeting, as evidenced by a CD I bought a few years back that was jam packed with some of my favorite oldies, the cover emblazoned with the slogan "All The Original Hits". It was only when I started listening to it and discovered to my dismay that it did contain all the "original songs" - just not performed by the "original artists."


The act, which slipped through last week's dumpster diving for dollars in Providence - the result of an ever widening budgetary black hole - is a boon to the long suffering fan, since it mandates that what is loosely referred to as "the performing group" must have some artistic integrity. Specifically, the band has to include at least one person who is on a recording made by that particular group, or by the same token, have some kind of guaranteed right to the name. Sadly enough, this kind of restriction severely impacts the clubbing habits of baby boomers drawn to see a "legendary" band perform only to discover that the original members were six feet under.

The Rhode Island legislation was heavily influenced when Sha Na Na's "Bowzer" - Jon Baumann - lobbied for passage last February, stating at the time that groups like The Drifters, The Platters and the Coasters are constantly victimized by promoters and performers stealing their names. After all, how could so many state fairs, oldies clubs and other venues seemingly claim to have the same bands playing at the same time?


I think the only drawback is that this truth in oldies initiative will not be aggressively enforced, but is intended to provide pissed off audience members with the opportunity to file a complaint if they feel they've suffered an artistic rip off. The intimidation factor is the dominant force here, so the promoter out there somewhere getting ready to advertise a " Jimi Hendrix - Janis Joplin - Back From The Dead Concert" might think twice.


Unfortunately, and I do mean unfortunately, I was involved with enough nearly expired oldies acts in my short dalliance as a promoter to become totally disgusted with the entertainment business in general. Most of the acts with one or two original members have to rent extra tour buses to carry their egos; the agents talk down to you in advance, sensing that they are dealing with a "rube", warning that so and so has a reputation for not showing up, or that someone else has a wicked temper, or -most commonly - that so and so gets the souvenir revenues.


If this bill has any meaningful impact beyond the nation's smallest state, it may very well save us from a horrendous future, when Rolling Stones concerts happen simultaneously, featuring Mick Jagger's eighth cousin and Keith Richards' stepbrother appropriating the name, or Roger Daltrey's illegitimate son and Pete Towensend's ex-wife's stepbrother's cousin are the mainstays of The Who. As far as the performers are concerned, it really is a dead issue.

Blues Planet

As I get ready to wrap up another year in the life, I like to look back musically on the past 365 days to catalogue those songs which had the most impact on me. No question that the blues have kept me sane in 07-08, especially these standout tunes:


"The Lights Are On" - Albert Collins
The piercing, precise picking that characterizes Collins' guitar playing defines this virtuoso run, as if it would be impossible to coax another stinging riff to top the last one, but he manages to rip right through the song. The lyrics are sparse but evocative, perfectly matched to a bluesman whose mastery of the mood and the melody was legendary. In his own way, Albert Collins was the Jimmy Page of the blues.


" That's Alright" - Etta James
I forget all about Etta until I was trolling through the CDS in a mall music emporium and found "Blues To The Bone", the diva's collection of classic blues standards. James' immense vocal range gets a workout, from the throbbing sexuality of "You Shook Me", "Little Red Rooster" and "Crawling Kingsnake" to the uptempo versions of "Got My Mojo Working" and "Driving Wheel". The song that "sticks" in my mind is a tune attributed to Jimmy Rodgers called "That's Alright". Etta's bigger than life vocals swallow the lyrics whole and spit them back out as smooth as silk, the tale of infidelity and heartbreak smoothed over by her sense of acceptance. Her penetrating voice hits just the right tone in the sardonic chorus: "Some times I wonder / Who's loving you tonight."


"Come On In My Kitchen" - Keb Mo
Keb was someone whose name had been mentioned, so I was pleasantly surprised to discover his traditional style and deep, commanding voice. The spare mix of guitar, harmonica and drums keeps repeating the same enigmatic riff in "Kitchen", perhaps in homage to the song's cryptic author, Robert Johnson. Keb's rough, powerful vocals flesh out the lyrics, the tune ending in the same abrupt, mysterious way it begins.


"Damn Right I Got The Blues" - Buddy Guy

Damn right I know who the hell Buddy Guy is, but the OLD Buddy Guy of "You Sure Can't Do", "Sweet Little Angel" and " The First Time I Met The Blues". The NEW Buddy has kept right in the groove , easing those razor sharp notes out of his axe as he wails and bellows the title tune of yet another Grammy winning CD. "Damn Right" is the main course of this gourmet blues buffet, but side dishes like "Five Long Years", "Black Night" and a re-worked, bluesy version of Wilson Pickett's classic "Mustang Sally" are lovingly prepared in the studio to near perfection.


"The Celebrated Walking Blues" - Taj Mahal

I've never really been sure about Taj Mahal since I bought his first album, the one with him sitting in a chair on the front lawn, cradling his guitar, surrounded by cartoon animals. The music was overpowering but I was dubious about his authenticity - was he the real McCoy or some ambitious college student simply playing the role? Taj's music has ranged from foot-stomping solid blues tracks to flirtations with reggae and zydeco to the simple acoustic combination of vocal and guitar. This particular song moves like molasses slowly spreading across a plate, starting out with the basic six string and rough vocals, then slowly adding in slide guitar, harmonica, bass and drums until it flows. I decided it doesn't really matter who Taj really is and what he represents. The music speaks for itself.


A few other standouts....Bonnie Raitt teaming up with Sippie Wallace on "Women Be Wise" ..."It Hurts To Love Someone" by Earl King..."Too Old To Get Married" where the blues meets good time rock and roll in the persona of Eddy "The Chief" Clearwater joining forces with Lonnie Brooks...."Black Night", "Big Mamou" and just about all the rest of the songs on Roomful of Blues' "Raisin' A Ruckus"...the list goes on. However, I have to admit as I peer fearfully back to last year that Martha Davis' "Only The Lonely" still resonates, still summarizes yet another year in the life.

Bye Bo

One of the first real rock and roll albums I bought was a Bo Diddley disc on sale at the Bunch of Grapes in Vineyard Haven. I had graduated from the folkie wave and gotten swept up in the psychedelic tsunami of the 1960s, but that old time rock and roll kept pulling me back, especially Chuck Berry's Golden Decade, a Chess double album set that tracks nearly every Berry hit, on which I had spent most of my meager summer job earnings one week, adding the Diddley album as an afterthought .


I thought Bo was boring at first. Most of the tunes had that trademark "thumpa-thumpa-thump- THUMP THUMP". True, it was lively and bouncy but redundant. I liked Bo's sense of humor - you could tell from titles like "Mushmouth Millie", "Bo Diddley's Hootenanny" and one song that features him mocking an English accent that he didn't take himself too seriously. I've always felt that the rock and roll pioneers had the right attitude about the music - big and bold and laced with tongue-in-cheek humor. Two of Diddley's signature tunes stood out: "Can't Judge A Book" and "Who Do You Love?" Both tunes have been covered by The Fabulous Thunderbirds, George Thorogood and Tom Rush, just to name a few. The lyrics combine that brash sense of satire with a hint of menace, especially the latter, with one of Bo's most famous refrains: " Got a brand new house on the roadside/Made out of rattlesnake hide/Little bitty chimney up on top/Made out of a human skull" and "Got a cobra snake for a necktie." I lost my Diddley album somehow in the chaos of constantly shifting from one apartment to the next, and proceeded to pretty much forget about Bo. His distinctive guitar musings would crop up when I least expected it, most notably using the single "Bo Diddley" as the soundtrack for the depiction of Harlem in the R. Crumb classic "Fritz the Cat".


Then I picked up a 4 CD set of blues tunes that just happened to be sprinkled with some outstanding live performances featuring Diddley at his finest. Since the songs were on one of those minimally-labelled, deeply discounted collections of music randomly thrown together, there is absolutely no information about where or when the cuts were recorded, so it's impossible to provide any details about the flawless performances of "Can't Judge..." (In which Bo actually stops the tune in the beginning to laugh at the audience), "Mona" (Standard thumpa-thumpa-thump-THUMP-THUMP, packed with exceptional guitar and sax solos) " Road Runner" (I grew up listening to Junior Walker's version) and a vaguely psychedelic "Dr. Jeckyll". Probably the best collection that really covers most of Ellis McDaniel's (Bo's real name) output is another CD I borrowed from a friend that was called (I think) "Rare and Well Done". I always thought that "I'm A Man" was a Muddy Waters composition, but it turns out it was the flip side of the "Bo Diddley" single released by Chess in 1955.


Ironically, the day before Bo Diddley died in Florida at the age of 79, I had been thinking about trying to find the "Rare" CD to add to my collection. I was actually hoping to see Diddley and his trademark rectangular guitar in person, but I'll have to settle for his legacy.

Jah Mon

I set myself up when I picked the name for this blog, mainly because I've also been listening to reggae and ska for decades AS WELL as blues,soul and rock and roll, which is why it was such a privilege to spend the last week in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Not only was the weather idyllic (although incredibly hot and HUMID!) but the sounds of the island were everywhere.


The first surprise was how much the nation has embraced Bob Marley. There are Marley hats, tee shirts, wristbands, keepsake boxes, athletic socks, underwear, rolling papers and of course, CDs. I found it ironic that the Jamaican government has decided to promote a Rasta artist who came to prominence singing songs like "Burning and looting tonight / Burning all pollution in sight" or "Get up/Stand up/ Stand up for your rights", the anthems of the "rude boys." In effect, it's as if reggae's best known rebel has been co-opted as the national brand. The next time you are mesmerized by the technicolor images of cobalt sea and milk white sand, with Marley warbling: "One love/ One heart" , listen to the original song lyrics, which have very little to do with harmony. Personally, I've always thought that Peter Tosh deserves more credit for his role in the Wailers as well as a solo artist. His commanding voice, outlaw persona, and obvious contempt for Jamaican society, plus his confrontational compositions - "Legalize It", "Get Up Stand Up", "Wanted Dread or Alive" - seem to make Tosh a little too controversial for marketing overseas.


I've always felt that reggae was partially the precursor to rap. Toots and the Maytals have taken credit for naming the music, Toots explaining that the term means "regular" , or , as he puts it, "coming from the people". The content of reggae songs , excluding the ubiquitous love ballads, is mostly about political oppression, social issues, and the Rastafarian philosophy, one of the primary outlets for Jamaican artists to comment on their lives to a worldwide audience. In addition to using the music to advocate social change, many reggae performers would experiment with vocal rhythms and nuances as well. Although the connection between the two is tenuous, it is further evidenced by the various rappers who have incorporated reggae beats and intonations into their music.


I am a personal fan of what is called "dub" music. Dubbing refers to taking a familiar melody, stripping away the words and inserting your own commentary ( also referred to as "skanking") as well as utilizing intense reverb, echo, feedback, and any other musical device that comes to mind after consuming copious amounts of ganja. I managed to pick up a copy of "Superdub on Overdrive", featuring the superior talents of Robbie Shakespeare and Sly Dunbar. Besides doing covers of "Peter Gunn", "Roxanne" and "If I Were A Rich Man", they seem to have produced most of the CD trapped in an echo chamber, experimenting with turning the melodies inside out and then drifting wherever the music takes them.


Of course you can still hear the strains of the traditional Caribbean ballads made famous by Harry Belafonte, the familiar refrains like: "Daylight come and me want to go home" or "Sad to say/I'm on my way/Won't be back for many a day", right up there with rum punch, jerked chicken and duty free shopping. The "music of the people" tells a different story, the "riddims" of a Third World nation struggling with devastating poverty, uncontrollable crime and defining the true Jamaican identity.


Personally, I still wanted to find anything by The Mighty Diamonds, Big Youth, Max Romeo and a few others, but the clerk at the El Paso in Montego Bay was clueless when I asked for specifics, gesturing instead at the wall of reggae CDs. In retrospect,this was a fortunate development. Now I'll absolutely positively have to go back.

The Jughead Chronicles, Part 3: Memphis Rules

The advent of the phonograph in the early decades of the Twentieth Century helped to spread jug band music from the South to the rest of the country, according to amateur musicologist Will Melton, who is BSRR's special guest for this short series on the jug bands. The Dixieland Jug Blowers from Louisville recorded "Love Blues" in a Chicago studio in 1926.


BSRR:
That's a great jug band tune, but the record features horns as well.


WILL MELTON:
"Love Blues" is one of the early jug band recordings, but by this time the bands had been around for more than two decades. They were experimenting and adding more traditional instruments, and this band was one of the most technically sophisticated. Most of us don't associate Cincinnati with musical innovation, but there were some great jug band musicians there in the 1920s, especially Kid Cole, whose real name was probably Bob Coleman. He was the leader of King David's Jug Band.


BSRR:
You don't normally think of Cincinnati and Louisville as Southern towns. Where else were the bands coming from?


MELTON:
The Birmingham Jug Band was the best known in Alabama. This band featured the harmonica, which became an important jug band instrument. The band's leading musician was Jaybird Coleman, often using his voice and harmonica in a call and response pattern.

I like to say "The jug bands taught the blues to dance". That was especially true with the Memphis bands. And Memphis was where the jug bands most influenced the blues. Memphis is the gateway to the Delta. As one writer put it: " The Mississippi Delta begins in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel in Memphis." Today Memphis calls itself Blues City and Beale Street is the legendary hub. In the 1920s, the area around Beale Street was a center for prostitution and gambling and a very dangerous place after dark. This is where the jug bands held forth. Though they hung around the seediest part of Memphis, wealthy white businessman would hire the bands to play for barbecues and stag parties, even in the stuffy old Peabody Hotel. One of the great jug bands for dance rhythms , for example , was Jed Davenport and his Beale Street Jug Band.


BSRR:
Did the Memphis jug bands pick up on the sounds of the great Delta guitarists?


MELTON:
You bet. Many of those Delta guitarists came to Memphis, the biggest city in the Delta to play and record. One band that comes to mind with that distinctive Delta sound is Jack Kelly and the South Memphis Jug Band.


BSRR:
What was the first Memphis jug band?


MELTON:
Will Shade was the pioneer and he formed a band called The Memphis Jug Band. They recorded dozens of songs under that name for the companies recording in Memphis. It was a loose ensemble and he was quite a crafty band manager. He took advantage of every recording company he could and avoided contract problems by changing the name of the group. The Carolina Peanut Boys, The Dallas Jug Band, and The Memphis Sheiks are just a few of the names he used. And he didn't hesitate to switch between male and female singers, helping to launch the career of singer guitarist Memphis Minnie McCoy, among others. They had a terrific mix of vocals, kazoos, harmonicas, wash tub bass, strings, and, of course, jug. One of their classic songs dates from 1928, called the Overseas Stomp, which was written for dancers doing the Lindy Hop, a dance craze that celebrated Charles Lindberg's solo flight across the Atlantic.


BSRR:
You've said that the jug bands influenced lots of the bands that launched the music revolution of the 1960s. What are some examples?


MELTON:
There was a revival of the jug bands in the 1960s in America. The Lovin' Spoonful and the Grateful Dead started out as jug bands. In England, they were called "skiffle" bands and some of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones were fans of the music. Folk guitarist Dave Van Ronk was one of the first 60s musicians to cover a song by the Memphis Jug Band called "Stealin', Stealin'".


BSRR:
What about the new jug band documentary?


MELTON:
It is by an indie film maker and it is called "Chasin' Gus' Ghost". It is making the rounds of music festivals in Cleveland and Louisville among other places. The film features John Sebastian of the Lovin' Spoonful, Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead and Jim Kweskin, the leader of the most famous of the 1960s jug bands, which showcased a young Maria Muldaur as lead singer. Google the title to learn more - Chasin' Gus' Ghost. It refers to Gus Cannon, who lead another one of the famous Memphis jug bands, Cannon's Jug Stompers. When The Rooftop Singers covered Gus Cannon's song "Walk Right In" in 1963, the record shot to #1 in the charts and jug band music was back in the news.

BSRR:
Did that make Gus Cannon famous?

MELTON:
I wouldn't say that. Will Shade and Gus Cannon were still alive in 1963 and they tried to capitalize on the song by recording an album of the music they'd played years before. It was a modest success. But the Jim Kweskin Jug Band recorded dozens of songs over the next decade, many of them by Gus Cannon and Will Shade, joining in the folk music revival.

( Editor's Note: Many thanks to Will Melton for his insights on jug band music. More on this topic in future posts. )

The Jughead Chronicles, Part 2 : Will Speaks

The quest to document and preserve the musical output of the jug bands that rose and fell in the South during the opening decades of the Twentieth Century is being partially undertaken by a self styled aficionado and performer of the music by the name of Will Melton. Not only is he a walking encyclopedia of names and dates but he also plays and sings in several musical groups, plus constantly researching and acquiring new tunes. Will was a guest on BSRR's radio show last Sunday and shed some light on the genre:


BSRR:
So what is a jug band?


WILL MELTON:
It's one of the roots of the blues in this country, and a music style of the pre-war era that appealed to both black and white audiences. The basic idea was to start with some string instruments - fiddle, guitar, banjo, mandolin, and enrich the sound with homemade instruments. A bass fiddle might cost too much, but an old washtub would do if you turned it upside down, attached a cord to it with a broomstick connected to pull the string tight. And the sound of the tuba could be made by blowing into a large jug (that) you blow into like a soda bottle. A toy kazoo serves well as a low cost trumpet, and other things you have lying around the house, like a washboard, could be sounded with thimbles or spoons to create new percussion ideas. So the jug band was the poor man's orchestra. Then you add to that lots of hokum - jokes, double entendre and horsin' around and the result was a very entertaining act.



BSRR:
Who was the first jug band?


MELTON:
In 1898, two banjo players from Kentucky were looking for work in southwest Virginia. They were playing on a porch with their friends, the Anderson brothers, when a neighbor came over with an empty jug and started laying down a bass line, like a tuba part. When they finished playing they asked the old man about his instrument and all he could say was " I just picked it up and started blowing." Then he gave them some advice: " Look around for the right jug; a jug is a jug if you want whiskey, but if you want to blow on it, find one that's got music in it." They headed for Louisville and formed the Cy Anderson Jug Band. Soon they were making real money playing for Kentucky Derby crowds and on riverboats along the Ohio River. So the Cy Anderson Jug Band made Louisville their base but spent much of the next seven years playing the Ohio River towns and the jug band craze was born. It lasted for much of the next 30 years. But Louisville was where it first got rooted, followed soon after by Cincinnati, a city upriver on the Ohio. The Louisville bands like Whistler's Jug Band had a sound that bridged the blues and jazz. They had a Dixieland banjo sound.


BSRR:
What happened when the phonograph was invented? What kind of impact did that have on the jug bands?


MELTON:
From the 1910s to the 1930s, Jug Bands were hot and some of the most often hard ensembles in the small towns across the South. But the phonograph opened the whole country to the sound. Once again, Louisville was the originator. In 1926 Louisville's own Dixieland Jug Blowers made the first jug band recording in a Chicago studio.


Next - Jug Bands and the Blues Meet in the Memphis Sound

The Jughead Chronicles, Part 1

I've resisted telling the truth about my musical ability - or lack of - for over a year, but I can't hide it any longer - I'm a jug player.


I'm sure many of you are asking yourselves: "What is a jug and how do you play it?" The term "jug" - in fact - refers to an actual jug as in " Hand me that jug of moonshine, Billy Bob". Although it is not advisable to begin jug lessions with a full container of white lightning, the shape remains the same whether made of plastic, ceramics or whatever. Jug players simply blow across the open top of the requisite jug to produce sound and voila! - you have an instrument. However, the list of jug virtuosos who've met sudden death from inhaling a mouthful of bleach is fairly long, so, if you're thinking about pursuing the jug for fun and profit, make sure that your chosen instrument is totally empty and preferably washed before you use it.


Producing sound from the jug is problematic. You generate one type of tone by blowing across, but something entirely different by blowing - or spitting - into the jug itself. I guess you could say that one approach is more melodic while the other is closer to rthymn. It requires quite a bit of air and constant stomach motion to play the jug, which illustrates another occupational hazard associated with the instrument - never eat before a performance. In addition, vigorous playing typically generates spittle, so the conscentious jug player should avoid standing too close to anybody, and remember to empty the instrument regularly.


Embarking on a career as an itinerant jug virtouso has its drawbacks - you will, for example, never be able to pass the hat as you play on a streetcorner as the spray tends to keep people at a distance. Yet, there are some advantages. As long as you don't lose your hearing, you'll never have to tune up before a performance. You won't have to worry about buying any expensive instruments - just visit the local landfill to find a ready supply.


Personally, playing the jug has been rewarding. It has allowed me to pretend to be a musician, and lose weight in the balance from not eating those gluttonous special occaision dinners. I'm not sure if young jug players coming up these days are finding the profession lucrative, but I hope the tradition continues. Meanwhile, I'm hard at work finishing up my masterpiece- Quartet for Jug and Harpsichord Minus Two Instruments. Who says that Mozart or Beethoven wouldn't have turned to the jug if it wasn't so much easier to play a keyboard? One day the lowly plastic empty Clorox bottle will get the respect it deserves.