Seeing BB King with my girlfriend Sue at Lupo's in Providence was a milestone of sorts for me since I have now seen him 3 times, tied with Chuck Berry and James Brown, which should give you an idea of the kind of music I like. The first time was the most bizarre, a concert that King headlined in my gritty hometown of Waterbury, Connecticut. It was a strange line up, since the Santana clone band Malo was the opener. BB was the heart of the show, running through "The Thrill Is Gone", "Lucille", "Payin The Cost To Be The Boss" and his other blues "Top Ten" hits, backed by high powered horns and a rock bottom rthymn section. The second time was when he closed out the 1985 Newport Jazz Festival. I had dragged my late wife Jery there despite the fact that she was extremely pregnant because Miles Davis was playing and I had never seen him before. Unfortunately, the two airheads in front of us talked all the way most of Davis' solos, so BB was a relief, although I had to leave a few songs into the set in order to preserve my marriage.
Keyboardist Mark Taber and his son opened the show with some dynamite boogie/woogie - barrelhouse dual electric keyboards, setting the mood for the King of Blues. His band ran through the warm up music, a funky mix of horns, guitar, keyboards and rthymn, until BB himself arrived in a wheelchair, a testament to his age and diabetes.. Two of his "handlers" then lead him to a chair in front of the stage.
He started by introducing the band, a function that most artists save for last, and spent a lot of time explaining who the musicians were before slipping into "You Are My Sunshine". BB seemed to be preoccupied with the audience in front of the stage. In my almost but not quite nosebleed section, the audience was preoccupied with taking selfies as BB played in the background, one particular woman managing to block everybody's view as she and her partner kept trying to find the right angle and the right spot.
Fortunately, King segued into "The Thrill Is Gone", a timeless tune that brings out his distinctive, mournful voice and seamless guitar, followed by another signature number, "Every Day I Have The Blues" , bringing me back to the "Live At The Regal" album. The band was given lots of opportunity to jam which they did admirably, especially the second guitarist., once again evoking James Brown , the musicians trading funky riffs, a couple of dudes waiting on the fringes with his hat and coat, BB still playing with the crowd, again changing the tune to "How Blue Can You Get?", the show finally winding down to the grand exit. King donned his stylish hat and coat as the crowd cheered , the selfie addicts popping up in front of us, and headed back to retirement, not without a final wink at whoever was getting his attention in the expensive seats.
There's no mistaking BB King's stature and soul, as he wrenches more emotion out of a single lyric than an opera singer, so any performance is an opportunity to see an authentic blues pioneer. It just seemed to me this third time around, that the focus had shifted from being BB's music to Being BB, able at the age of 88 to rest on his blues credentials as well as still churn out those powerful, unmistakeable melodies that have become blues anthems.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Jingling
I can tell my brain is rotting more quickly than I thought, mainly because the only music I have on my internal playlist right now is advertising jingles. You know what I mean, that mental harddrive that keeps rec-creating that Hendrix riff you partied to or the Clapton solo or - unfortunately - some kind of catchy pop musical hook over and over in your "head" until you say enough already. I reached that point a couple of days ago when I realized I was actually obsessing over local ad jingles, obviously reinforced by those old favorites, frequency and saturation via radio.
The two that are competing for my attention right now are the Paul Masse commercials and the ballad about the Original Italian Bakery. The Masse commercial features a hot , sexy female voice belting out an uptempo chorus that sounds straight out of high energy road rock - "Just give me one more mile - I'm riding in style - In my Paul Masse ride". The production value - to me anyway - is way above the level you normally experience in secondary radio markets. It works, and the unknown vocalist definitely has a future.
The Original Italian Bakery "song" is at the other end of the spectrum, sounding like "The Big Rock Candy Mountain " (Which, again for what it's worth, was used successfully by LL Bean a few years back) with a hint of Hank Williams. " I love those pizza chips," The male vocalist warbles, " From the Original Italian Bakery", also mentioning something about smacking your lips. It's sort of like your typical broadcast advertisement "unplugged" Listening to it is probably close to what the mermaids sounded like to eighteenth century sailors, a melody that really makes you feel like humming along, or - of course - having pizza chips. I also like the organ and the chorus for Rhode Island Credit Union, since that's invaded my memory banks in the recent past A lot of musicians got their start writing jingles, the most notable being Barry Manilow, who immortalized fast food before raking in millions from heavy easy listening rotation, not to mention the massive vertical billboard of him I saw on my repeat trips to Las Vegas, meaning he is still viable - and profitable.
I'm going to spend the next few hours re-tuning my synapses back to the blues and rock riffs typically stored there, but it's obvious I need to stop listening to so much talk radio before I spend all my disposable income on pizza chips. .
The two that are competing for my attention right now are the Paul Masse commercials and the ballad about the Original Italian Bakery. The Masse commercial features a hot , sexy female voice belting out an uptempo chorus that sounds straight out of high energy road rock - "Just give me one more mile - I'm riding in style - In my Paul Masse ride". The production value - to me anyway - is way above the level you normally experience in secondary radio markets. It works, and the unknown vocalist definitely has a future.
The Original Italian Bakery "song" is at the other end of the spectrum, sounding like "The Big Rock Candy Mountain " (Which, again for what it's worth, was used successfully by LL Bean a few years back) with a hint of Hank Williams. " I love those pizza chips," The male vocalist warbles, " From the Original Italian Bakery", also mentioning something about smacking your lips. It's sort of like your typical broadcast advertisement "unplugged" Listening to it is probably close to what the mermaids sounded like to eighteenth century sailors, a melody that really makes you feel like humming along, or - of course - having pizza chips. I also like the organ and the chorus for Rhode Island Credit Union, since that's invaded my memory banks in the recent past A lot of musicians got their start writing jingles, the most notable being Barry Manilow, who immortalized fast food before raking in millions from heavy easy listening rotation, not to mention the massive vertical billboard of him I saw on my repeat trips to Las Vegas, meaning he is still viable - and profitable.
I'm going to spend the next few hours re-tuning my synapses back to the blues and rock riffs typically stored there, but it's obvious I need to stop listening to so much talk radio before I spend all my disposable income on pizza chips. .
Saturday, March 8, 2014
The Fab Four at Fifty
I didn't like the Beatles at first, probably because they were too clean cut compared to the Rolling Stones, whose defiant lyrics and bluesy instrumentation appealed to my adolescent sense of rebellion. The first albums I actually bought with my on money were Out of Our Heads by the Stones, East West by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, The Golden Road to Unlimited Devotion by the Grateful Dead, Shotgun by Junior Walker and the All Stars and a great Chess double album collection called Chuck Berry's Golden Decade. It wasn't until Rubber Soul came out that I began paying attention to John, Paul, George and Ringo.
Originally, Paul was the cute one, John was the brainy one,George was the quiet one and Ringo - well, we ALWAYS made fun of Ringo. Ironically, some of Ringo's tunes have had the most staying power, most notably "A Little Help " , "Yellow Submarine", etc. Besides Rubber Soul's improved content, I soaked up "Hard Day's Night" and "Help", but I didn't buy any Beatles albums until Sergeant Pepper's, unique for the acid references and the streetcorner band aspect, proving to be the beginning of my veritable Beatles buying spree. I guess - to me anyway - The White Album had the greatest impact simple because of the multiplicity of styles, from the blissful lyrics of "Dear Prudence" to the barroom tale of "Rocky Raccoon" to that seminole disembodied voice intoning: " Number 9 - Number 9 - Number 9."
I was on the air when John Lennon was shot, part of an all news station outside Boston, in the middle of some earnest local "police blotter" story when the News Director abruptly came in and motioned for me to turn up the volume on the Associated Press feed. The details unfolded stupidly and sadly, Lennon cut down by a crazed fan. It was decades later when I was working for rocker WHJY in Providence that I saw an exhibition of Lennon's artwork, an aspect of his boundless creativity that I had been dimly aware of , never realizing the actual depth of his talent.
Of course it is nostalgic to see Paul and Ringo teaming up yet again, a sort of survivor's salute to fool the Baby Boomers into thinking they're still young, but it just seems mercenary, brand reinforcement to the max, a far cry from the more purist goals of the Quarrymen Skiffle Band when John and Paul formed it back in Liverpool. The Beatles' impact on the Twentieth Century is undeniable. Only time will tell. if they are remembered as cultural icons, laying the groundwork for the explosion and rebellion of the Sixties, or if they were simply cruising, responding to the moment, making it up as they went along. On second thought, that decision has perhaps already been made.
Originally, Paul was the cute one, John was the brainy one,George was the quiet one and Ringo - well, we ALWAYS made fun of Ringo. Ironically, some of Ringo's tunes have had the most staying power, most notably "A Little Help " , "Yellow Submarine", etc. Besides Rubber Soul's improved content, I soaked up "Hard Day's Night" and "Help", but I didn't buy any Beatles albums until Sergeant Pepper's, unique for the acid references and the streetcorner band aspect, proving to be the beginning of my veritable Beatles buying spree. I guess - to me anyway - The White Album had the greatest impact simple because of the multiplicity of styles, from the blissful lyrics of "Dear Prudence" to the barroom tale of "Rocky Raccoon" to that seminole disembodied voice intoning: " Number 9 - Number 9 - Number 9."
I was on the air when John Lennon was shot, part of an all news station outside Boston, in the middle of some earnest local "police blotter" story when the News Director abruptly came in and motioned for me to turn up the volume on the Associated Press feed. The details unfolded stupidly and sadly, Lennon cut down by a crazed fan. It was decades later when I was working for rocker WHJY in Providence that I saw an exhibition of Lennon's artwork, an aspect of his boundless creativity that I had been dimly aware of , never realizing the actual depth of his talent.
Of course it is nostalgic to see Paul and Ringo teaming up yet again, a sort of survivor's salute to fool the Baby Boomers into thinking they're still young, but it just seems mercenary, brand reinforcement to the max, a far cry from the more purist goals of the Quarrymen Skiffle Band when John and Paul formed it back in Liverpool. The Beatles' impact on the Twentieth Century is undeniable. Only time will tell. if they are remembered as cultural icons, laying the groundwork for the explosion and rebellion of the Sixties, or if they were simply cruising, responding to the moment, making it up as they went along. On second thought, that decision has perhaps already been made.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
For Pete's Sake
Pete Seeger's unique and all pervasive influence on folk and popular music has been so well documented that repeating it would really just be paraphrasing Wikipedia. My perception of the late and, fortunately for us, long-lived icon is a direct link to the time honored tradition of American protest music.
The rambling talking blues style originated with African American musicians in the early Twentieth Century, the songs essentially social commentaries documenting everything from poverty and corruption to unique weather events like dry spells or floods. The tradition carried into the late 1920s and early 30s in the raucous sounds of the jug bands and popular artists like Big Bill Broonzy, Lonnie Johnson, Memphis Minnie, just to name a very few, but protest music grew and flourished during the Great Depression, spurred on - unfortunately - by shared misery. The Dust Bowl exile of the suddenly nomadic Okies was musically documented by a young Woody Guthrie through tunes like "If You Ain't Got The Do-Re-Mi", but the style and the content spread through popular music of the time. Jim Kweskin and Geoff Muldaur have successfully resurrected some of these tunes for contemporary audiences. There is a definite link between protest music and reggae, which Jamaican artists have used to highlight social conditions and agitate for change, as well as rap, with its piercing commentaries on social disparity viewed from the street.
Seeger's place is firmly established as he protested everything from racism to poverty to war to cleaning up the Hudson, but he did it in a self effacing collegiate persona that opened the door for Peter,Paul and Mary and the Kingston Trio among other folkie groups in the early 1960s. Seeger looked earnest and well groomed, the opposite end of the spectrum from Bob Dylan or the luminaries in the flourishing New York folk community of the time like Dave Van Ronk, Essentially, it was protest music from the kid next door.
It seems doubtful that Seeger's legacy will be fulfilled in the same way that he stepped into Woody Guthrie's shoes. The element of protest is still there, but the message is not "We Shall Overcome" or "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?". The squeaky clean activists who politely demonstrated about moral causes have been replaced by flash mobs, cyberthreats, suicide bombers and terrorist acts that are clandestine and random. Yet you can bet that in some corner of America, in the thin and ragged network of coffee shops, community halls, and festivals that still host folk musicians, Seeger's epitaph is being played out tonight by another earnest folkie out to change the world - for Pete's sake.
The rambling talking blues style originated with African American musicians in the early Twentieth Century, the songs essentially social commentaries documenting everything from poverty and corruption to unique weather events like dry spells or floods. The tradition carried into the late 1920s and early 30s in the raucous sounds of the jug bands and popular artists like Big Bill Broonzy, Lonnie Johnson, Memphis Minnie, just to name a very few, but protest music grew and flourished during the Great Depression, spurred on - unfortunately - by shared misery. The Dust Bowl exile of the suddenly nomadic Okies was musically documented by a young Woody Guthrie through tunes like "If You Ain't Got The Do-Re-Mi", but the style and the content spread through popular music of the time. Jim Kweskin and Geoff Muldaur have successfully resurrected some of these tunes for contemporary audiences. There is a definite link between protest music and reggae, which Jamaican artists have used to highlight social conditions and agitate for change, as well as rap, with its piercing commentaries on social disparity viewed from the street.
Seeger's place is firmly established as he protested everything from racism to poverty to war to cleaning up the Hudson, but he did it in a self effacing collegiate persona that opened the door for Peter,Paul and Mary and the Kingston Trio among other folkie groups in the early 1960s. Seeger looked earnest and well groomed, the opposite end of the spectrum from Bob Dylan or the luminaries in the flourishing New York folk community of the time like Dave Van Ronk, Essentially, it was protest music from the kid next door.
It seems doubtful that Seeger's legacy will be fulfilled in the same way that he stepped into Woody Guthrie's shoes. The element of protest is still there, but the message is not "We Shall Overcome" or "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?". The squeaky clean activists who politely demonstrated about moral causes have been replaced by flash mobs, cyberthreats, suicide bombers and terrorist acts that are clandestine and random. Yet you can bet that in some corner of America, in the thin and ragged network of coffee shops, community halls, and festivals that still host folk musicians, Seeger's epitaph is being played out tonight by another earnest folkie out to change the world - for Pete's sake.
Friday, January 17, 2014
In The THICKE Of It
I finally feel vindicated. After all the years of arguing with my daughters that this particular riff in this particular rap song was stolen from David Bowie's "China Girl", or the obvious rip-offs of the Stylistics and the Chi-Lites - among others - by the 90s boy bands like New Kids,etc., someone has finally gotten their wrists soundly slapped for musical theft.
The first few times I heard Blurred Lines my general reaction was: " Ah yes, another white dude stealing Motown riffs ". This would make me ruminate about the hundreds of old blues and R&B artists whose tunes are routinely stolen without them earning a dime (My favorite being the often repeated nugget that Bob Marley sold the rights to "I Can See Clearly Now" for $75) before reaching the conclusion that everybody steals from everybody else so that's that. The more the song started cropping up, the more I began getting seriously pissed , muttering "Marvin Gay" every time I heard it. It sounded just like "Got to Give It Up", which is a supremely funky, move your feets to the beat type get down party tune.This egregious rip off would be bad enough if it was just the beat itself, but Thicke sounds almost nearly just like Marvin Gay, which is why Gay's family apparently sued Thicke over the curious similarities - and won. True , it was buried alive in the news, an out of court settlement , but the point has been made.
Please note that I didn't say Robin Thicke was a bad singer or that some contemporary rappers routinely rip off choruses and never credit the original artist. The ongoing dialogue over copyright and sampling won't ever be easily resolved, but the issue here is credit where credit is due. In Privacy Law, you call theft of someone's name, likeness, or voice appropriation. This case, like so many others in the music biz, comes very close. I think of Bonnie Raitt's laudable efforts to help legendary blues giants like Sippie Wallace or Mississippi Fred McDowell get the recognition they deserve, or, at the other end of the spectrum, Chuck Berry's piano player suing the R & R legend because he claims he wrote a lot of Berry's songs.
Does this mean Marvin was so good that imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery ? Or does this mean that the technology of mixing, mashing, scratching, over dubbing and "skanking" is now comparable to - gulp! - music ?
The first few times I heard Blurred Lines my general reaction was: " Ah yes, another white dude stealing Motown riffs ". This would make me ruminate about the hundreds of old blues and R&B artists whose tunes are routinely stolen without them earning a dime (My favorite being the often repeated nugget that Bob Marley sold the rights to "I Can See Clearly Now" for $75) before reaching the conclusion that everybody steals from everybody else so that's that. The more the song started cropping up, the more I began getting seriously pissed , muttering "Marvin Gay" every time I heard it. It sounded just like "Got to Give It Up", which is a supremely funky, move your feets to the beat type get down party tune.This egregious rip off would be bad enough if it was just the beat itself, but Thicke sounds almost nearly just like Marvin Gay, which is why Gay's family apparently sued Thicke over the curious similarities - and won. True , it was buried alive in the news, an out of court settlement , but the point has been made.
Please note that I didn't say Robin Thicke was a bad singer or that some contemporary rappers routinely rip off choruses and never credit the original artist. The ongoing dialogue over copyright and sampling won't ever be easily resolved, but the issue here is credit where credit is due. In Privacy Law, you call theft of someone's name, likeness, or voice appropriation. This case, like so many others in the music biz, comes very close. I think of Bonnie Raitt's laudable efforts to help legendary blues giants like Sippie Wallace or Mississippi Fred McDowell get the recognition they deserve, or, at the other end of the spectrum, Chuck Berry's piano player suing the R & R legend because he claims he wrote a lot of Berry's songs.
Does this mean Marvin was so good that imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery ? Or does this mean that the technology of mixing, mashing, scratching, over dubbing and "skanking" is now comparable to - gulp! - music ?
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Bye Bye Phil
I guess I've always taken the Everly Brothers for granted, but ever since Phil Everly's death on January 3, 2014, I am beginning to realize how important Don and Phil were to rock and roll. One eye opener was a series of quotes from Paul McCartney about the impact the Everlys had on McCartney and John Lennon when it came to vocal harmonies, but that fact was trumped by Paul Simon revealing that he and Art Garfunkel modeled themselves after Phil and Don as well. Their influence has also been acknowledged by artists from Linda Ronstadt to Crosby, Stills and Nash and the Beach Boys to Vince Gill. Some commentators have pointed definitively to the Everly Brothers as the originators of so-called country rock.
The Everly brothers started harmonizing growing up in Iowa singing on their father Ike Everly's radio show and touring as the Everly family. It was after they moved to Nashville that the brothers formed a duo with the encouragement of legendary guitarist Chet Atkins, who got them an audition with Columbia, which resulted in a single that quickly tanked. In 1957, the Everly Brothers signed with Cadence Records, and recorded their first million selling single - "Bye,Bye Love". They toured with Buddy Holly in the early days, forming a lifelong friendship to the extent that Phil was a pallbearer at Holly's funeral in 1959.
The brothers quickly racked up a string of hits in the US and the UK, including: "Wake Up Little Susie," and "All I Have To Do is Dream". The Everly's biggest seller was "Cathy's Clown", which sold 8 million copies on when they recorded it for Warner Brothers in 1960, one of my favorites as well. The same era saw "When Will I Be Loved?" - immortalized in later years for the Baby Boomers by Linda Ronstadt - hit number 8 on the charts.Their stats are off the wall -36 Billboard Top 100 singles, the record for any duo in rock and roll history. The Everly Brothers were among the first 10 artists inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
When Phil Everly died in California - the cause attributed to lifelong smoking -he was just shy of his 75 birthday. He and his brother have a legacy that blended rthymn & blues, country and rockabilly, not to mention the unforgettable harmonies which trickled down to the Hollies , the BeeGees, and many many others.
The Everly brothers started harmonizing growing up in Iowa singing on their father Ike Everly's radio show and touring as the Everly family. It was after they moved to Nashville that the brothers formed a duo with the encouragement of legendary guitarist Chet Atkins, who got them an audition with Columbia, which resulted in a single that quickly tanked. In 1957, the Everly Brothers signed with Cadence Records, and recorded their first million selling single - "Bye,Bye Love". They toured with Buddy Holly in the early days, forming a lifelong friendship to the extent that Phil was a pallbearer at Holly's funeral in 1959.
The brothers quickly racked up a string of hits in the US and the UK, including: "Wake Up Little Susie," and "All I Have To Do is Dream". The Everly's biggest seller was "Cathy's Clown", which sold 8 million copies on when they recorded it for Warner Brothers in 1960, one of my favorites as well. The same era saw "When Will I Be Loved?" - immortalized in later years for the Baby Boomers by Linda Ronstadt - hit number 8 on the charts.Their stats are off the wall -36 Billboard Top 100 singles, the record for any duo in rock and roll history. The Everly Brothers were among the first 10 artists inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
When Phil Everly died in California - the cause attributed to lifelong smoking -he was just shy of his 75 birthday. He and his brother have a legacy that blended rthymn & blues, country and rockabilly, not to mention the unforgettable harmonies which trickled down to the Hollies , the BeeGees, and many many others.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Born Under A Bad Sign
I actually sang Albert King's "Born Under A Bad Sign" before I ever heard the original, back at the age of 19, lead singer with the legendary Phoenix Blues Band on the Vineyard, actually covering a cover of the original by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. It wasn't until decades later cassette-diving in a mega music store closeout bin, coming up with the REAL "Born", which is actually a collection of his greatest hits, that I realized the extent of his talents. Albert's legacy ranks him as one of the "Three Kings" of the blues- BB King, Albert King and Freddie King.
The late bluesman cast a long shadow - literally. The guitarist stood 6' 4 " tall and weighed 250 pounds. His nickname was the " Velvet Bulldozer" , which stemmed - not from his size - but from the fact that he drove a bulldozer to earn money at different points in his career.
King was born Albert King Nelson in April 1923 on a cotton plantation in Indianola, Mississippi. His first exposure to music was singing in a family gospel group at a local church where his father also played guitar. King's professional career started with a band called "In The Groove Boys" from Arkansas. He spent time in Gary, Indiana and St. Louis, briefly playing drums on several Jimmy Reed recordings.
King's first "hit" was a tune by Little Milton - "I'm a Lonely Man" - which Albert cut in 1959, but his first major release went to Number 14 on Billboard's R & B chart in 1961, called "Don't Throw Your Love on Me So Strong". He had adapted the Gibson "Flying V" guitar as his trademark. King recorded with several regional labels, but his career took off when he signed with the legendary Stax label in Memphis in 1966. The guitarist cut several tunes with Booker T and The MGs, including "Crosscut Saw."Stax released "Born Under A Bad Sign" a year later, which was actually a collection of all the "sides" King cut for the label.
His signature tune has been covered not only by Paul Butterfield, but Cream,. Jimi Hendrix, Bad Company's Paul Rodgers and Homer Simpson (?). King was a superstar at the age of 44.
Albert King was also unique because of his linkage to San Francisco's legendary Fillmore Auditorium, as he played several gigs for Bill Graham,and cut a couple of live albums there. The legendary collaboration with Stevie Ray Vaughan also propelled King into the mainstream, Vaughan identifying King as his greatest influence. Ironically - to me, anyway - Albert King had an influence on Albert Collins - both of them do what I call blue collar blues. After all, King has a whole song about his baby cheating on him, by heading down to the laundromat to meet up with her lover, right up there with Collins' "The Lights Are On". Albert King also dabbled unsuccessfully in trying to sound like the African American Perry Como with mixed success.
Bottom line, when King died December 21, 1992, musicians like Mick Taylor, Joe Walsh, Mike Bloomfield, Eric Clapton, Derek Trucks, Warren Haynes paid him homage along with numerous others proving convincingly that Albert King wasn't just Born Under A Bad Sign -he was Born Under A SUPERBAD Sign!
The late bluesman cast a long shadow - literally. The guitarist stood 6' 4 " tall and weighed 250 pounds. His nickname was the " Velvet Bulldozer" , which stemmed - not from his size - but from the fact that he drove a bulldozer to earn money at different points in his career.
King was born Albert King Nelson in April 1923 on a cotton plantation in Indianola, Mississippi. His first exposure to music was singing in a family gospel group at a local church where his father also played guitar. King's professional career started with a band called "In The Groove Boys" from Arkansas. He spent time in Gary, Indiana and St. Louis, briefly playing drums on several Jimmy Reed recordings.
King's first "hit" was a tune by Little Milton - "I'm a Lonely Man" - which Albert cut in 1959, but his first major release went to Number 14 on Billboard's R & B chart in 1961, called "Don't Throw Your Love on Me So Strong". He had adapted the Gibson "Flying V" guitar as his trademark. King recorded with several regional labels, but his career took off when he signed with the legendary Stax label in Memphis in 1966. The guitarist cut several tunes with Booker T and The MGs, including "Crosscut Saw."Stax released "Born Under A Bad Sign" a year later, which was actually a collection of all the "sides" King cut for the label.
His signature tune has been covered not only by Paul Butterfield, but Cream,. Jimi Hendrix, Bad Company's Paul Rodgers and Homer Simpson (?). King was a superstar at the age of 44.
Albert King was also unique because of his linkage to San Francisco's legendary Fillmore Auditorium, as he played several gigs for Bill Graham,and cut a couple of live albums there. The legendary collaboration with Stevie Ray Vaughan also propelled King into the mainstream, Vaughan identifying King as his greatest influence. Ironically - to me, anyway - Albert King had an influence on Albert Collins - both of them do what I call blue collar blues. After all, King has a whole song about his baby cheating on him, by heading down to the laundromat to meet up with her lover, right up there with Collins' "The Lights Are On". Albert King also dabbled unsuccessfully in trying to sound like the African American Perry Como with mixed success.
Bottom line, when King died December 21, 1992, musicians like Mick Taylor, Joe Walsh, Mike Bloomfield, Eric Clapton, Derek Trucks, Warren Haynes paid him homage along with numerous others proving convincingly that Albert King wasn't just Born Under A Bad Sign -he was Born Under A SUPERBAD Sign!
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