Beginning in 1969, and lasting well into the 1970’s, thousands of Beatles fans and critics pored over their Beatles LP’s (both the discs and their covers), searching for clues which would “prove” that Paul McCartney died in an auto accident in 1966, and was replaced by a look-alike double. After a few years, “Paul is Dead” mania faded away, largely because few fans really believed it to be true.
Now, decades after the phenomenon seemingly became a distant memory, along comes a documentary DVD which would have us believe that Paul is indeed dead, and that the man who has continued to tour as Paul McCartney to this very day is actually a fellow named William Campbell. The major piece of evidence presented here is a narration supposedly recorded at the end of 1999 by George Harrison, while he was hospitalized after being robbed in his home by an intruder. I have to say that while the voice claiming to be George sounds vaguely like him, it sounds more like an imitator than the late Beatle himself. I’m also a bit leery that for a hospitalized man who claims to be in fear for his life, he gives a very cogent, detailed account of the whole “Paul is Dead” affair, neatly arranged and leaving out very little.
But these observations are merely impressions on my part. I have no access to voice-recognition technology to either prove or disprove that the voice is indeed George Harrison. As far as I’m concerned, you may choose to believe this truly to be a documentary presenting the real facts of the matter, or you may find it merely an ingenious ruse exploiting the fact that George Harrison is no longer with us to deny the veracity of the disc. In either case, this is still an entertaining and informative presentation of the many theories and elaborately uncovered “clues” which have become part of the “Paul is Dead” legend.
“George” describes the accident that killed Paul in gory detail, because so many of the hints that surfaced through the lifespan of the legend have to do with the condition of Paul’s body after the accident. We are told that Paul had given a ride to a young lady named Rita, who later became Heather Mills, and that her screaming-fan behavior caused Paul to lose control of his car. (I might point out that Internet bios of Heather Mills have her being born in 1968, two years after the accident.) An MI5 representative named Maxwell informed the remaining Beatles of the accident, claiming that the government wanted Paul’s death hushed up. If it were made public, the government feared, it would result in a rash of teen suicides. The three living Beatles were sworn to secrecy, and willingly went along with the deception at first, so as to keep the band going. Eventually, the band had second thoughts about their part in the cover-up, but Maxwell warned them they would be killed if they revealed that Paul was, in fact, really dead. “George” claims that the three Beatles began dropping hints and clues into song lyrics and on the LP covers as a hedge against public reaction should the truth ever become known.
If you accept this premise (and I have to confess, I find it far-fetched), the whole collection of clues and hints falls into place very neatly. William Campbell has plastic surgery to increase his resemblance to the dead Paul, and becomes known to the living Beatles as “False Paul”, shortened to “Faul”. The video includes an interview with the “real” George Harrison in which he seems to consistently refer to Paul as “Faul”. We are told that the plastic surgery caused Campbell to also be called “Rubber Paul”, which was proposed as the name of the Beatles’ next LP; to make the clue less obvious to Maxwell, “Rubber Paul” was changed to “Rubber Soul”. And on it goes, one convoluted clue (and explanation) after another in lyrics, in backwards recordings, in photos included on LP covers, in design elements, all explained in elaborate detail. The cover of ”Sgt. Pepper” shows the people, dead or alive, whom Paul would have wanted to attend his funeral. The “Yellow Submarine” refers to a coffin, and so on and so forth.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the video is the examination of the audio clues, in particular those involving “backward masking”, that is, sound bites dropped into the mix which cannot be distinguished while the LP is being played in real time, but which show up when the records are played backwards. These have always been one of the best known, but least-heard clues, because so few people have had the equipment to play vinyl records backwards. (Some have been presented in other documentaries, but not as many as presented here, in my experience at least.) But now, one can actually hear a whole collection of such legendary phrases such as “Turn me on, dead man” and “I buried Paul”. Truth be told, not all the backwards clues sound to me like what they’re supposed to sound like, but many do.
This would all be great fun, until we are told that John Lennon had had enough of the deception, and was ready to blow the whistle on the whole charade. Maxwell warned him not to do it, but then Mark David Chapman assassinates John. The disc attempts to make clear that this was a direct result of John’s defiance of MI5.
Throughout the DVD, there is just so much “evidence” trotted out and explained with such conviction that one can either laugh it off as a total hoax, become convinced that Paul McCartney is really dead, or simply be impressed by the massive amount of effort producer John Gilbert put into tying together so many factors of the Paul is Dead deception. It’s a measure of how well Gilbert has put this together that there were moments when I was ready to buy into his story.
The programs lasts 97 minutes. The bonus features include MP3’s of the soundtrack music, and an only tangentially relevant 10-minute interview with the late music journalist Al Aronowitz, on how he introduced the Beatles to Bob Dylan and to marijuana. Not uninteresting, but it doesn’t really fit into the story of “Faul”.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
“Chasin’ Gus’ Ghost”; documentary by Todd Kwait (Folk Era Records) Paul Rishell and Annie Raines – “A Night In Woodstock” (Mojo Rodeo Records)
These two DVD’s were both put together by producer/director/writer Todd Kwait, and feature overlapping performers, so it makes sense to me to review the two of them together, though musically they are quite distinct.
“Chasin’ Gus’ Ghost” is an idea that has been WAY overdue – a full-length documentary film about the history of jug band music. What’s more, it doesn’t cover just the original jug band heroes of the 1920’s/30’s (Clifford Hayes, Earl McDonald, Whistler’s Jug Band, Will Shade and the Memphis Jug Band, and Cannon’s Jug Stompers, featuring Noah Lewis, Ashley Thompson, and the “Gus” of the title, Gus Cannon). It also features vintage footage and modern-day performances by some of the revered figures of the 1960’s jug band revival, most notably the Jim Kweskin Band (with Fritz Richmond, Geoff Muldaur, and Maria Muldaur). Also covered from the Revival era is the Even Dozen Jug Band (which included John Sebastian, Joshua Rifkin, Steve Katz, Stefan Grossman, David Grisman, and the very same Maria Muldaur when she was still Maria D’Amato; all at the beginnings of their careers). (I would have liked more discussion of Dave Van Ronk’s role in the revival, which is one of the few criticisms I can come up with.) The story is brought further up-to-date when the Kweskin Band and Sebastian travel to Japan to interact with the highly active Japanese jug band scene. There is also a segment on Sankofa Strings (an African-American band which overlaps in personnel with the Carolina Chocolate Drops), who are attempting to bring awareness of jug band music back to the black community which spawned it, then spurned it.
Much of the focus on the early days is on Cannon’s Jug Stompers, since it was the revival of key parts of Cannon’s repertoire that sparked Kwait’s interest in the jug band phenomenon and indeed proved crucial to the 60’s revival. The first inkling most folkies had that a jug band revival was even possible came when the Rooftop Singers had a monster hit with Gus Cannon’s oldie, “Walk Right In”. (The late Erik Darling lived long enough to tell the tale of his hit on camera and sing a somewhat curious arrangement of the song, in which he substitutes his harmony part for the familiar melody.) Is there any one interested in this music who discovered it during this revival period (as I did) and did not fall under the mysterious spell of ”Going To Germany”? We learn that the phrase “goin’ to German’” had nothing to do with the European nation, but refers to a town near Memphis called Germantown. The film also visits what’s left of “Minglewood” (more properly, Menglewood) home of a box factory which, like Germantown, was a place where black people were able to find employment. “Minglewood Blues” was one of harmonica virtuoso Noah Lewis’ great contributions to the jug band world; Lewis would go on to utilize the setting again for another song, “The New Minglewood Blues”. This song was one of the first recorded by the Grateful Dead, which itself evolved out of a jug band. In fact, Bob Weir is one of the interviewees in this film as well.
This leaves John Sebastian, who is one of the stars of the DVD, both as an interviewee and as a featured performer. Much is made of the fact that jug band music was a major influence on the Lovin’ Spoonful. This is, of course, impossible to deny. But to think of them as an “electric jug band” leaves out a lot of their other, subsequent influences. Still, it’s a treat to hear Sebastian sing a bit of Cannon’s “Prison Wall Blues”, and to recognize it as the source of “Younger Girl”, another piece of the puzzle directly traceable to Gus Cannon. As you can see, Kwait really was “chasin’ Gus Cannon’s ghost” in this film. Sebastian not only performs in the film with his more recent outfit, the J Band (which includes Paul Rishell and Annie Raines), he achieves a life-long dream to perform on-stage with the Jim Kweskin Band. Kweskin and the Muldaurs sound as fine as ever, but alas Fritz Richmond (also seen in vintage footage), the greatest of all washtub bass players and a mean hand at the jug as well, was slowly dying of lung cancer at the time the film was being made. Richmond becomes as much a focal point of the film as Gus Cannon. The Japanese segments, in fact, were part of a Fritz Richmond memorial tribute, featuring the American guests alongside the Japanese bands MadWords (featuring Uncle Mooney) and the Southern Chefs. One person obviously missing from the Kweskin segments of the film is David Simon, a/k/a “BrunoWolf”. It seems no one has any idea what happened to him.
There is next-to-no film footage of the original jug bands, though Kwait does include an excerpt of the famous 1930 film clip of Whistler’s Jug Band with their three (count ‘em) jugs. Roscoe Goose and the late Gil Fish of current favorites, the Juggernauts, offer insight into the early Louisville Jug Band scene, while jug band entrepreneur Rod Wenz accurately observes that more people outside of Louisville know about that city’s crucial formative role in the music than do people in Louisville itself. Thankfully, the Louisville classic “Banjoreno” (Clifford Hayes’ Dixieland Jug Blowers) is sampled here. There is footage available on Youtube of Will Shade and Charlie Burse in the 1950’s that might have been used, but the Memphis Jug Band gets its due nonetheless. Swedish historian Bengt Olsson and Charlie Musselwhite are along to assess Memphis’ and Will Shade’s contributions. Historian (and Van Ronk jug band associate) Sam Charters offers valuable perspective as well.
There’s so much more I could say about this exceptionally fine film. No, it doesn’t include everything, and some statements may be open to interpretation. But it accomplishes an awful lot in 100 minutes. There is additional info on a commentary track featuring Kwait, Sebastian, and others. Other bonus features include a number of anecdotes told by Fritz Richmond, and a conversation between John Sebastian and performer/historian Delmark Goldfarb. (I should add that there is a CD companion to the film, available separately, consisting of a live performance featuring many of the film’s principal figures.) It’s always gratifying to be able to say that a documentarian working in a neglected musical area got it right. Todd Kwait got it right.
When you consider guitarist Paul Rishell and harmonica ace Annie Raines’s reputation as being true masters of acoustic blues, one might expect their concert DVD, “A Night in Woodstock” to be a purist’s delight. And indeed, the first half is a no-nonsense, thoroughly entertaining acoustic set, ranging from Piedmont rags to Delta blues, with a detour into swing territory. There is also an affecting rendition of Rishell’s most famous song, the blues ballad “Blues on a Holiday”. Rishell plays a gorgeous National steel-bodied guitar that’s a treat to see as well as to hear, while Raines is an absolute dynamo on harp. But then, the electric guitars and rhythm section come out, for a second half consisting of driving, roadhouse amplified blues. And it’s just as good as the acoustic half.
One of the reasons for this is a top-notch guest appearance by the Paul and Annie’s J Band boss, John Sebastian. The proceedings particularly catch fire when Sebastian and Raines get into blues-harp duets, something one doesn’t hear often enough, not this effectively. Rishell, meanwhile, acquits himself very well on electric guitar, and the band is a crack unit. It’s not until one listens to the commentary track (Rishell, Raines, Sebastian) – the commentary may be found under “audio options” – that one is aware of the massive problems the musicians and filmmaker Todd Kwait had to work under to get something that looks downright effortless. The music is energetic, beautifully played and sung, with a nice balance of styles in both formats, and a just-plain good time. There is nothing especially visual about Rishell and Raines’ act, but it’s always great to see fine musicians doing their thing this effectively.
“Chasin’ Gus’ Ghost” is an idea that has been WAY overdue – a full-length documentary film about the history of jug band music. What’s more, it doesn’t cover just the original jug band heroes of the 1920’s/30’s (Clifford Hayes, Earl McDonald, Whistler’s Jug Band, Will Shade and the Memphis Jug Band, and Cannon’s Jug Stompers, featuring Noah Lewis, Ashley Thompson, and the “Gus” of the title, Gus Cannon). It also features vintage footage and modern-day performances by some of the revered figures of the 1960’s jug band revival, most notably the Jim Kweskin Band (with Fritz Richmond, Geoff Muldaur, and Maria Muldaur). Also covered from the Revival era is the Even Dozen Jug Band (which included John Sebastian, Joshua Rifkin, Steve Katz, Stefan Grossman, David Grisman, and the very same Maria Muldaur when she was still Maria D’Amato; all at the beginnings of their careers). (I would have liked more discussion of Dave Van Ronk’s role in the revival, which is one of the few criticisms I can come up with.) The story is brought further up-to-date when the Kweskin Band and Sebastian travel to Japan to interact with the highly active Japanese jug band scene. There is also a segment on Sankofa Strings (an African-American band which overlaps in personnel with the Carolina Chocolate Drops), who are attempting to bring awareness of jug band music back to the black community which spawned it, then spurned it.
Much of the focus on the early days is on Cannon’s Jug Stompers, since it was the revival of key parts of Cannon’s repertoire that sparked Kwait’s interest in the jug band phenomenon and indeed proved crucial to the 60’s revival. The first inkling most folkies had that a jug band revival was even possible came when the Rooftop Singers had a monster hit with Gus Cannon’s oldie, “Walk Right In”. (The late Erik Darling lived long enough to tell the tale of his hit on camera and sing a somewhat curious arrangement of the song, in which he substitutes his harmony part for the familiar melody.) Is there any one interested in this music who discovered it during this revival period (as I did) and did not fall under the mysterious spell of ”Going To Germany”? We learn that the phrase “goin’ to German’” had nothing to do with the European nation, but refers to a town near Memphis called Germantown. The film also visits what’s left of “Minglewood” (more properly, Menglewood) home of a box factory which, like Germantown, was a place where black people were able to find employment. “Minglewood Blues” was one of harmonica virtuoso Noah Lewis’ great contributions to the jug band world; Lewis would go on to utilize the setting again for another song, “The New Minglewood Blues”. This song was one of the first recorded by the Grateful Dead, which itself evolved out of a jug band. In fact, Bob Weir is one of the interviewees in this film as well.
This leaves John Sebastian, who is one of the stars of the DVD, both as an interviewee and as a featured performer. Much is made of the fact that jug band music was a major influence on the Lovin’ Spoonful. This is, of course, impossible to deny. But to think of them as an “electric jug band” leaves out a lot of their other, subsequent influences. Still, it’s a treat to hear Sebastian sing a bit of Cannon’s “Prison Wall Blues”, and to recognize it as the source of “Younger Girl”, another piece of the puzzle directly traceable to Gus Cannon. As you can see, Kwait really was “chasin’ Gus Cannon’s ghost” in this film. Sebastian not only performs in the film with his more recent outfit, the J Band (which includes Paul Rishell and Annie Raines), he achieves a life-long dream to perform on-stage with the Jim Kweskin Band. Kweskin and the Muldaurs sound as fine as ever, but alas Fritz Richmond (also seen in vintage footage), the greatest of all washtub bass players and a mean hand at the jug as well, was slowly dying of lung cancer at the time the film was being made. Richmond becomes as much a focal point of the film as Gus Cannon. The Japanese segments, in fact, were part of a Fritz Richmond memorial tribute, featuring the American guests alongside the Japanese bands MadWords (featuring Uncle Mooney) and the Southern Chefs. One person obviously missing from the Kweskin segments of the film is David Simon, a/k/a “BrunoWolf”. It seems no one has any idea what happened to him.
There is next-to-no film footage of the original jug bands, though Kwait does include an excerpt of the famous 1930 film clip of Whistler’s Jug Band with their three (count ‘em) jugs. Roscoe Goose and the late Gil Fish of current favorites, the Juggernauts, offer insight into the early Louisville Jug Band scene, while jug band entrepreneur Rod Wenz accurately observes that more people outside of Louisville know about that city’s crucial formative role in the music than do people in Louisville itself. Thankfully, the Louisville classic “Banjoreno” (Clifford Hayes’ Dixieland Jug Blowers) is sampled here. There is footage available on Youtube of Will Shade and Charlie Burse in the 1950’s that might have been used, but the Memphis Jug Band gets its due nonetheless. Swedish historian Bengt Olsson and Charlie Musselwhite are along to assess Memphis’ and Will Shade’s contributions. Historian (and Van Ronk jug band associate) Sam Charters offers valuable perspective as well.
There’s so much more I could say about this exceptionally fine film. No, it doesn’t include everything, and some statements may be open to interpretation. But it accomplishes an awful lot in 100 minutes. There is additional info on a commentary track featuring Kwait, Sebastian, and others. Other bonus features include a number of anecdotes told by Fritz Richmond, and a conversation between John Sebastian and performer/historian Delmark Goldfarb. (I should add that there is a CD companion to the film, available separately, consisting of a live performance featuring many of the film’s principal figures.) It’s always gratifying to be able to say that a documentarian working in a neglected musical area got it right. Todd Kwait got it right.
When you consider guitarist Paul Rishell and harmonica ace Annie Raines’s reputation as being true masters of acoustic blues, one might expect their concert DVD, “A Night in Woodstock” to be a purist’s delight. And indeed, the first half is a no-nonsense, thoroughly entertaining acoustic set, ranging from Piedmont rags to Delta blues, with a detour into swing territory. There is also an affecting rendition of Rishell’s most famous song, the blues ballad “Blues on a Holiday”. Rishell plays a gorgeous National steel-bodied guitar that’s a treat to see as well as to hear, while Raines is an absolute dynamo on harp. But then, the electric guitars and rhythm section come out, for a second half consisting of driving, roadhouse amplified blues. And it’s just as good as the acoustic half.
One of the reasons for this is a top-notch guest appearance by the Paul and Annie’s J Band boss, John Sebastian. The proceedings particularly catch fire when Sebastian and Raines get into blues-harp duets, something one doesn’t hear often enough, not this effectively. Rishell, meanwhile, acquits himself very well on electric guitar, and the band is a crack unit. It’s not until one listens to the commentary track (Rishell, Raines, Sebastian) – the commentary may be found under “audio options” – that one is aware of the massive problems the musicians and filmmaker Todd Kwait had to work under to get something that looks downright effortless. The music is energetic, beautifully played and sung, with a nice balance of styles in both formats, and a just-plain good time. There is nothing especially visual about Rishell and Raines’ act, but it’s always great to see fine musicians doing their thing this effectively.
Friday, March 19, 2010
The Beatles: Rare and Unseen (MVD)
The Beatles – Rare and Unseen (MVD)
First off, let me acknowledge that I’m not so rabid a Beatles collector that I can judge whether these clips truly are as rare as presented here. In this Internet Age, after years of rampant piracy of unreleased material by both major and minor recording artists, it seems hardly anything can remain “unseen” for very long. The best I can do is tell you what’s on this DVD, and give my reaction to it.
As it turns out, my reaction to the presentation as a whole is very positive. Subtitled “The Unofficial Account of The Biggest Band In the World”, this would appear to be a British television documentary, and a very good one at that. While the rare, unseen footage is consistently interesting, the main feature of this disc from my point of view would be the excerpts of interviews with a variety of people “who were there” in the Beatles’ early days, supplemented by the comments of a few young Beatles fans who grew up to be celebrities in their own right.
Among the interviewees who were there, we hear from Allan Williams, Gerry Marsden (of Gerry and the Pacemakers), Tony Bramwell, Hurricane Smith (in his role as George Martin’s recording engineer), and John Lennon himself, in portions of a rare 1975 French t.v. interview. But the most revealing comments of all come from the largely unheralded Colin Hanton, the original drummer for the Beatles’ early skiffle-band incarnation, the Quarrymen, whose story is rarely told so well. The early fans who would later become celebrities include Phil Collins, Cockney Rebel’s Steve Harley, and – of all people – “Dancing With the Stars” judge Len Goodman. Discussing the Beatles 1963 Paris concert are Mickey Jones (who was the drummer for Trini Lopez, who was also on the bill for the concert) and French star Sylvie Vartan, also on that concert.
The early history of the Beatles is given a quick, yet surprisingly thorough runthrough. However, once the band hits stardom in America, the narrative leaps ahead to the filming of “Magical Mystery Tour”. One might surmise that the producers thought the mid-60’s were too well documented to warrant rehashing. In any case, this sin of omission, while quite noticeable, does not seriously detract from what IS here. It is worth mentioning that there is also some intelligent analysis of the Beatles as both musicians and as lyricists, so the disc does dig deeper than the more frequently encountered “golly-gee-whiz” fan hagiography.
As to the unseen footage, what we are offered are amateur, home-movie clips, all of them silent. The question as to whether they were originally shot as silent films, or if the music is missing due to the inability to secure rights, is left unanswered. But the footage is worth seeing, in any case. We have the earliest known footage of the Beatles on stage, Liverpool, February, 1962; the only surviving footage of their first tour of Scotland; home movies of the boys having fun on holiday in the Channel Islands; the aforementioned French concert (courtesy of Mickey Jones), and home movies shot on film sets. If you’re a hard-core fan and you haven’t seen this material before, consider it significant. Otherwise, consider it a bonus to go along with the documentary interviews.
The “extra features” consist of longer chunks of the interviews excerpted in the main body of the documentary itself. The Colin Hanton segment is particularly important when heard in this longer format. There are also fascinating details about the reaction to the Beatles’ visit to Tokyo.
I have to confess I’ve seen some pretty shoddy, almost worthless Beatles’ DVD documentaries in my day. “Rare and Unseen” definitely stands out above the crowd, as one that is well worth seeing.
First off, let me acknowledge that I’m not so rabid a Beatles collector that I can judge whether these clips truly are as rare as presented here. In this Internet Age, after years of rampant piracy of unreleased material by both major and minor recording artists, it seems hardly anything can remain “unseen” for very long. The best I can do is tell you what’s on this DVD, and give my reaction to it.
As it turns out, my reaction to the presentation as a whole is very positive. Subtitled “The Unofficial Account of The Biggest Band In the World”, this would appear to be a British television documentary, and a very good one at that. While the rare, unseen footage is consistently interesting, the main feature of this disc from my point of view would be the excerpts of interviews with a variety of people “who were there” in the Beatles’ early days, supplemented by the comments of a few young Beatles fans who grew up to be celebrities in their own right.
Among the interviewees who were there, we hear from Allan Williams, Gerry Marsden (of Gerry and the Pacemakers), Tony Bramwell, Hurricane Smith (in his role as George Martin’s recording engineer), and John Lennon himself, in portions of a rare 1975 French t.v. interview. But the most revealing comments of all come from the largely unheralded Colin Hanton, the original drummer for the Beatles’ early skiffle-band incarnation, the Quarrymen, whose story is rarely told so well. The early fans who would later become celebrities include Phil Collins, Cockney Rebel’s Steve Harley, and – of all people – “Dancing With the Stars” judge Len Goodman. Discussing the Beatles 1963 Paris concert are Mickey Jones (who was the drummer for Trini Lopez, who was also on the bill for the concert) and French star Sylvie Vartan, also on that concert.
The early history of the Beatles is given a quick, yet surprisingly thorough runthrough. However, once the band hits stardom in America, the narrative leaps ahead to the filming of “Magical Mystery Tour”. One might surmise that the producers thought the mid-60’s were too well documented to warrant rehashing. In any case, this sin of omission, while quite noticeable, does not seriously detract from what IS here. It is worth mentioning that there is also some intelligent analysis of the Beatles as both musicians and as lyricists, so the disc does dig deeper than the more frequently encountered “golly-gee-whiz” fan hagiography.
As to the unseen footage, what we are offered are amateur, home-movie clips, all of them silent. The question as to whether they were originally shot as silent films, or if the music is missing due to the inability to secure rights, is left unanswered. But the footage is worth seeing, in any case. We have the earliest known footage of the Beatles on stage, Liverpool, February, 1962; the only surviving footage of their first tour of Scotland; home movies of the boys having fun on holiday in the Channel Islands; the aforementioned French concert (courtesy of Mickey Jones), and home movies shot on film sets. If you’re a hard-core fan and you haven’t seen this material before, consider it significant. Otherwise, consider it a bonus to go along with the documentary interviews.
The “extra features” consist of longer chunks of the interviews excerpted in the main body of the documentary itself. The Colin Hanton segment is particularly important when heard in this longer format. There are also fascinating details about the reaction to the Beatles’ visit to Tokyo.
I have to confess I’ve seen some pretty shoddy, almost worthless Beatles’ DVD documentaries in my day. “Rare and Unseen” definitely stands out above the crowd, as one that is well worth seeing.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Nancy Apple’s Song Slinger Showdown, Part 1
This DVD showed up on my doorstep probably over a year ago, and promptly fell through the cracks. I’m glad I finally did dig it out from the pile, because there’s some very worthwhile and enjoyable music on this disc.
The DVD documents what is apparently a monthly event in Memphis, a song-swap between Nancy Apple and a few other acoustic singer-songwriters. On this particular night in October 2007, she was joined by Phil Lee and Jake Kelly. Apple acts as host, in a format which is reminiscent of the Texas songwriter showcases which were an occasional, yet significant feature of “Austin City Limits”, back in the days when ACL was an outlet for artists who were better-known in Texas than elsewhere, rather than a hype-machine for pop stars.
ACL’s songwriter showcases had more artists per show, but this three-artist format gives each artist the opportunity to show varied aspects of their repertoire. Apple sings a song, Lee sings one, Kelly sings one; and then the process repeats (though Kelly only gets three songs, as opposed to four for the others). In between songs, the three artists sit at a diner-style booth and swap anecdotes. The whole affair is very informal, occasionally a bit too much so, which leads to a few empty moments between songs that may make you wish they’d get back to singing. Fortunately, they do.
Stylistically, the approach of all three artists might be termed “non-commercial country music”, though the fact that they all play acoustic guitars (Apple plays accordion textures on one song, while the other two also blow harmonicas when appropriate) will slant this more toward the contemporary-folk singer-songwriter audience than to modern-day pop-country fans. Nancy Apple can be as hard-core-country as Loretta Lynn, but without the Nashville production, and with a hint or two of rock around the edges. Phil Lee, “The Mighty King of Love” conjures up what Bob Dylan might have sounded like in the 1960’s if he’d had a sense of humor. Jake Kelly has a distinctively thin, high-pitched voice, which I’m unable to compare to anyone, though his writing makes me think of John Prine in a way I can’t pin down. In other words, he’s an original – but then, all three artists are when you get down to it.
If you’re a fan of Texas singer-songwriters, and wonder why there aren’t any artists working in related styles in other parts of the country, well of course there are. Indeed, there are a whole lot of them. They simply don’t get the publicity they deserve. Nancy Apple, Phil Lee, and Jake Kelly are just three of the many worthy artists playing acoustic guitars, writing fine songs, and reaping few of the rewards which should be coming their way. Their names may not be familiar, but they should be heard and, as in this case, seen.
The DVD documents what is apparently a monthly event in Memphis, a song-swap between Nancy Apple and a few other acoustic singer-songwriters. On this particular night in October 2007, she was joined by Phil Lee and Jake Kelly. Apple acts as host, in a format which is reminiscent of the Texas songwriter showcases which were an occasional, yet significant feature of “Austin City Limits”, back in the days when ACL was an outlet for artists who were better-known in Texas than elsewhere, rather than a hype-machine for pop stars.
ACL’s songwriter showcases had more artists per show, but this three-artist format gives each artist the opportunity to show varied aspects of their repertoire. Apple sings a song, Lee sings one, Kelly sings one; and then the process repeats (though Kelly only gets three songs, as opposed to four for the others). In between songs, the three artists sit at a diner-style booth and swap anecdotes. The whole affair is very informal, occasionally a bit too much so, which leads to a few empty moments between songs that may make you wish they’d get back to singing. Fortunately, they do.
Stylistically, the approach of all three artists might be termed “non-commercial country music”, though the fact that they all play acoustic guitars (Apple plays accordion textures on one song, while the other two also blow harmonicas when appropriate) will slant this more toward the contemporary-folk singer-songwriter audience than to modern-day pop-country fans. Nancy Apple can be as hard-core-country as Loretta Lynn, but without the Nashville production, and with a hint or two of rock around the edges. Phil Lee, “The Mighty King of Love” conjures up what Bob Dylan might have sounded like in the 1960’s if he’d had a sense of humor. Jake Kelly has a distinctively thin, high-pitched voice, which I’m unable to compare to anyone, though his writing makes me think of John Prine in a way I can’t pin down. In other words, he’s an original – but then, all three artists are when you get down to it.
If you’re a fan of Texas singer-songwriters, and wonder why there aren’t any artists working in related styles in other parts of the country, well of course there are. Indeed, there are a whole lot of them. They simply don’t get the publicity they deserve. Nancy Apple, Phil Lee, and Jake Kelly are just three of the many worthy artists playing acoustic guitars, writing fine songs, and reaping few of the rewards which should be coming their way. Their names may not be familiar, but they should be heard and, as in this case, seen.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Onward Brass Band - The Tradition Continues (CD review)
The current edition of the Onward Brass Band, led by drummer Kurt Nicewander, is the legitimate inheritor of one of the grandest traditions in all of American Music, that of the New Orleans brass band.
With a history dating back over 130 years, the present edition of the band may not sound exactly like the original unit, which was never recorded. The original Onward Brass Band was most likely a fairly straightforward marching band in its earliest incarnation, which predated the era in which historians believe jazz was invented. However, “The Tradition Continues”, the first new CD by the current edition of the Onward Brass Band, ties together most of the other strains of New Orleans music – turn-of-the-Twentieth-Century marching band styles, jazz, blues, and even r&b – into a microcosm of the unique sounds which have developed in the Crescent City throughout the past century.
The album gets off to a rousing start with the standard “Bourbon Street Parade”. This
is, of course, especially appropriate, since the song was written by the great Paul
Barbarin, the man who revived the Onward Brass Band in the mid-1950’s, following an
extended period of inactivity for the band. Although the tune is often played in an Al Hirt/Dixieland style, the Onward’s version is much closer in sound and spirit to the distinctive New Orleans street parade of its title. Where else but on the streets of New Orleans would a syncopated dance rhythm and collective improvisation be superimposed on a march beat? Trombonist Freddie Lonzo’s gritty vocal includes a few cracked notes, but these only add to the genuine air of spontaneity felt throughout the performance. There’s an energy and enthusiasm to the group improvisation on the last chorus and coda that make it seem as if the commercialization and modernization which some observers claim to hear in present-day New Orleans music has never taken place.
The medley of “Closer Walk – Didn’t He Ramble” depicts another New Orleans cultural tradition – the so-called “jazz funeral”. The spiritual “Just a Closer Walk With
Thee” is played as a dirge, which serves as musical accompaniment to the mourners as
they slowly and somberly make their way to the cemetery. After the burial, as it were, the band breaks into a sprightly stepping version of “Didn’t He Ramble” (a long-time New Orleans favorite with a rich history of its own, dating back to a rather rowdy English folk song of unknown antiquity, “The Darby Ram”). The way back from the funeral thus turns into a cathartic celebration of life. The Onward’s version easily evokes images of second-line dancers and a crowd walking rhythmically as they wave hankies and parasols. Dimitri Smith captures the spirit of the affair with an uncommonly agile tuba solo, followed by an ear-catching, polyrhythmic break by the drum line (two snares and a bass drum.
I have to confess I’ve heard “Saints Go Marching In” a few too many times by now.
But let’s face it, the tune is pretty much expected in this context. To their credit, the members of the Onward Brass Band manage to add enough touches of their own to keep it interesting and entertaining nonetheless.
And what would a tradition-conscious New Orleans disc be without at least one tune inextricably linked to Louis Armstrong? The band’s rendition of “Struttin’ With Some Barbecue” is great fun. Tom Fischer, who proves to be a solid exponent of classic New Orleans clarinet style throughout the disc, comes up with some fine ideas on his solo, and the band turns on the burners for the last chorus once again.
Professor Longhair’s “Mardi Gras In New Orleans” dates from a later period in New
Orleans’ rich and varied musical history. Even so, Longhair’s distinctive rhumba rhythm makes an easy transition to Onward’s syncopated shuffle beat, in an arrangement that ties together elements of many eras and many styles of New Orleans music.
Indeed, in a genre closely associated with collective improvisation, the Onward Brass Band shows off some tight ensemble chops on the album. The riffing horns behind the solos in “Back Home Again in Indiana” are particularly enjoyable. This is another one of those performances that just keeps building in intensity. The ascending ensemble lines on the chorus of “Lil’ Liza Jane” are also noteworthy. And don’t overlook the way in which Smith’s tuba whoops fit into the arrangement of “Whoopin’ Blues”.
I do need to make mention of Freddie Lonzo’s tailgating trombone work, a definite
highlight throughout the album. There is nothing politely decorous about his playing, which is gruff, gutsy, earthy, with a delightful jump in his rhythm. Check out his brassy blats on “Just A Little While To Stay Here.”
The only substantive criticism I can make is that the energy level drops a bit too much when the vocals enter in “Down By the Riverside” and “Lil’ Liza Jane”. Even so, the band builds up a full head of steam again before these tracks are over. This is a really a minor carp when you consider the high level of entertainment maintained through the rest of the album.
Tradition can be deadly when an artist or band tries too hard to slavishly reproduce the past as carefully and mechanically as possible. The Onward Brass Band, however, take the opposite approach, utilizing and combining New Orleans traditions while making them relevant to the present moment with energy, inspiration, and drive. This is New Orleans brass band music rooted in a glorious past, yet still alive and well in the 21st Century. Top-notch!
-
With a history dating back over 130 years, the present edition of the band may not sound exactly like the original unit, which was never recorded. The original Onward Brass Band was most likely a fairly straightforward marching band in its earliest incarnation, which predated the era in which historians believe jazz was invented. However, “The Tradition Continues”, the first new CD by the current edition of the Onward Brass Band, ties together most of the other strains of New Orleans music – turn-of-the-Twentieth-Century marching band styles, jazz, blues, and even r&b – into a microcosm of the unique sounds which have developed in the Crescent City throughout the past century.
The album gets off to a rousing start with the standard “Bourbon Street Parade”. This
is, of course, especially appropriate, since the song was written by the great Paul
Barbarin, the man who revived the Onward Brass Band in the mid-1950’s, following an
extended period of inactivity for the band. Although the tune is often played in an Al Hirt/Dixieland style, the Onward’s version is much closer in sound and spirit to the distinctive New Orleans street parade of its title. Where else but on the streets of New Orleans would a syncopated dance rhythm and collective improvisation be superimposed on a march beat? Trombonist Freddie Lonzo’s gritty vocal includes a few cracked notes, but these only add to the genuine air of spontaneity felt throughout the performance. There’s an energy and enthusiasm to the group improvisation on the last chorus and coda that make it seem as if the commercialization and modernization which some observers claim to hear in present-day New Orleans music has never taken place.
The medley of “Closer Walk – Didn’t He Ramble” depicts another New Orleans cultural tradition – the so-called “jazz funeral”. The spiritual “Just a Closer Walk With
Thee” is played as a dirge, which serves as musical accompaniment to the mourners as
they slowly and somberly make their way to the cemetery. After the burial, as it were, the band breaks into a sprightly stepping version of “Didn’t He Ramble” (a long-time New Orleans favorite with a rich history of its own, dating back to a rather rowdy English folk song of unknown antiquity, “The Darby Ram”). The way back from the funeral thus turns into a cathartic celebration of life. The Onward’s version easily evokes images of second-line dancers and a crowd walking rhythmically as they wave hankies and parasols. Dimitri Smith captures the spirit of the affair with an uncommonly agile tuba solo, followed by an ear-catching, polyrhythmic break by the drum line (two snares and a bass drum.
I have to confess I’ve heard “Saints Go Marching In” a few too many times by now.
But let’s face it, the tune is pretty much expected in this context. To their credit, the members of the Onward Brass Band manage to add enough touches of their own to keep it interesting and entertaining nonetheless.
And what would a tradition-conscious New Orleans disc be without at least one tune inextricably linked to Louis Armstrong? The band’s rendition of “Struttin’ With Some Barbecue” is great fun. Tom Fischer, who proves to be a solid exponent of classic New Orleans clarinet style throughout the disc, comes up with some fine ideas on his solo, and the band turns on the burners for the last chorus once again.
Professor Longhair’s “Mardi Gras In New Orleans” dates from a later period in New
Orleans’ rich and varied musical history. Even so, Longhair’s distinctive rhumba rhythm makes an easy transition to Onward’s syncopated shuffle beat, in an arrangement that ties together elements of many eras and many styles of New Orleans music.
Indeed, in a genre closely associated with collective improvisation, the Onward Brass Band shows off some tight ensemble chops on the album. The riffing horns behind the solos in “Back Home Again in Indiana” are particularly enjoyable. This is another one of those performances that just keeps building in intensity. The ascending ensemble lines on the chorus of “Lil’ Liza Jane” are also noteworthy. And don’t overlook the way in which Smith’s tuba whoops fit into the arrangement of “Whoopin’ Blues”.
I do need to make mention of Freddie Lonzo’s tailgating trombone work, a definite
highlight throughout the album. There is nothing politely decorous about his playing, which is gruff, gutsy, earthy, with a delightful jump in his rhythm. Check out his brassy blats on “Just A Little While To Stay Here.”
The only substantive criticism I can make is that the energy level drops a bit too much when the vocals enter in “Down By the Riverside” and “Lil’ Liza Jane”. Even so, the band builds up a full head of steam again before these tracks are over. This is a really a minor carp when you consider the high level of entertainment maintained through the rest of the album.
Tradition can be deadly when an artist or band tries too hard to slavishly reproduce the past as carefully and mechanically as possible. The Onward Brass Band, however, take the opposite approach, utilizing and combining New Orleans traditions while making them relevant to the present moment with energy, inspiration, and drive. This is New Orleans brass band music rooted in a glorious past, yet still alive and well in the 21st Century. Top-notch!
-
Slight Format Change
I've decided to make a slight change in the format of "GenEc DVD Review". It will remain primarily a DVD review blog, and the name will remain the same. However, I will VERY occasionally post reviews of selected CD's that I feel are of special merit, and which have not yet attracted as much attention as they deserve. I hope this slight change meets with the approval of readers.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
John Mayall's Bluesbreakers - Live At Iowa State University
This concert performance by the 1987 edition of the Bluesbreakers serves as a telling example of why John Mayall has never quite become famous, yet has been able to keep a substantial career going for some 45 years or so.
John Mayall has become most renowned for discovering and nurturing the talents of a
surprising number of British blues and rock heroes. Eric Clapton came to his early
maturity after leaving the Yardbirds for the Bluesbreakers. While with Mayall, Clapton played alongside Jack Bruce, which led to the formation of Cream. The original lineup of Fleetwood Mac was rife with Mayall alumni. Mick Taylor became a Rolling Stone after his turn as a Bluesbreaker. These are the best-known names, but many more Mayall veterans have enjoyed at least a modicum of success over the years.
This 1987 edition of the band is no exception, with two bona fide blues-stars-to-be in the lineup, both of them Americans. Walter Trout had already spent time with Canned Heat before he joined Mayall, but it was turn as a Bluesbreaker that built his reputation to the point where he was able to step away in 1989 and start his own hugely successful career. And no wonder - his guitar scorches with such intensity in this Iowa State performance, I’m surprised it doesn’t burn a whole in the disc! The second guitarist in the band was Coco Montoya, still putting in his apprenticeship, but taking advantage of a few opportunities to show off his potential in the process.
Yet while Mayall is the leader and the musician featured most prominently throughout, he leaves this viewer with somewhat more ambiguous feelings. He acquits himself well on harmonica, keyboards, and occasional guitar, but he’s not really a technical master of any of them – good enough, but not great. He obviously knows his blues, and makes all the right moves. But in the end, he comes across, perhaps not as a lightweight, but certainly a lighter weight than Trout and Montoya, just as he was a lighter weight than the famous 60’s rock stars he spawned. Still, he’s an effective entertainer, puts on a good show, and keeps the audience (as well as this reviewer) coming back for more.
BUT – and it’s a crucial “but” – he simply is not, has never been, and at age 76 (in 2009), most likely never will be a great singer. His voice is bland, lacking in power and presence. If he indeed feels the emotion of the songs, he fails to communicate that feeling to the listener. He’s not so objectionable a singer that you want to scream at your screen, you simply wish he could be better. The thing is, in the long run, he’s an enjoyable performer - not a genius, just an enjoyable performer. What’s more, given the contributions of Walter Trout, Coco Montoya, and the rhythm section (Bobby Haynes, bass; Paul Hines, drums), this is certainly an enjoyable concert disc. Fans will want it, no question. People who may be unfamiliar with Mayall will be glad to hear Trout and Montoya in their formative years. But if you’ve disliked John Mayall in the past, you probably won’t become a convert on the basis of this disc.
The disc is considerably shorter than the length stated on the case. Extras include text bios and discographies of the principal players. American distribution is by MVD Visual.
John Mayall has become most renowned for discovering and nurturing the talents of a
surprising number of British blues and rock heroes. Eric Clapton came to his early
maturity after leaving the Yardbirds for the Bluesbreakers. While with Mayall, Clapton played alongside Jack Bruce, which led to the formation of Cream. The original lineup of Fleetwood Mac was rife with Mayall alumni. Mick Taylor became a Rolling Stone after his turn as a Bluesbreaker. These are the best-known names, but many more Mayall veterans have enjoyed at least a modicum of success over the years.
This 1987 edition of the band is no exception, with two bona fide blues-stars-to-be in the lineup, both of them Americans. Walter Trout had already spent time with Canned Heat before he joined Mayall, but it was turn as a Bluesbreaker that built his reputation to the point where he was able to step away in 1989 and start his own hugely successful career. And no wonder - his guitar scorches with such intensity in this Iowa State performance, I’m surprised it doesn’t burn a whole in the disc! The second guitarist in the band was Coco Montoya, still putting in his apprenticeship, but taking advantage of a few opportunities to show off his potential in the process.
Yet while Mayall is the leader and the musician featured most prominently throughout, he leaves this viewer with somewhat more ambiguous feelings. He acquits himself well on harmonica, keyboards, and occasional guitar, but he’s not really a technical master of any of them – good enough, but not great. He obviously knows his blues, and makes all the right moves. But in the end, he comes across, perhaps not as a lightweight, but certainly a lighter weight than Trout and Montoya, just as he was a lighter weight than the famous 60’s rock stars he spawned. Still, he’s an effective entertainer, puts on a good show, and keeps the audience (as well as this reviewer) coming back for more.
BUT – and it’s a crucial “but” – he simply is not, has never been, and at age 76 (in 2009), most likely never will be a great singer. His voice is bland, lacking in power and presence. If he indeed feels the emotion of the songs, he fails to communicate that feeling to the listener. He’s not so objectionable a singer that you want to scream at your screen, you simply wish he could be better. The thing is, in the long run, he’s an enjoyable performer - not a genius, just an enjoyable performer. What’s more, given the contributions of Walter Trout, Coco Montoya, and the rhythm section (Bobby Haynes, bass; Paul Hines, drums), this is certainly an enjoyable concert disc. Fans will want it, no question. People who may be unfamiliar with Mayall will be glad to hear Trout and Montoya in their formative years. But if you’ve disliked John Mayall in the past, you probably won’t become a convert on the basis of this disc.
The disc is considerably shorter than the length stated on the case. Extras include text bios and discographies of the principal players. American distribution is by MVD Visual.
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