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Posts tagged ‘riffs’

Quick Shares: “Light – On the South Side” (a Killer Combo of Riffs & Reads)

Dear Santa,

I have been a very good boy this year. Ok, maybe not very, but still…I walked the line. Last year I did you a solid by trimming my list from a dozen hard to find records down to just three. I know, I know…having the elves trawl old record shops and flip vinyl bins from Chicago to Memphis is not a good use of their time…especially the during xmas season. ‘Nuff said. Lesson learned. Now I need a favor from you. 

I’ll make it easier on you this year: one request. Seriously, one request. I’ll take care of the rest. There is this book+record combo that looks as bow down as bow down gets. It’s called, “Light: On The South Side“. I caught a glimpse of it on the web and it sucked me in…deep. I wanted to be present  at nearly every scene depicted (I’ll skip the one where the chick is laying on the pool table, though). 

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The fact that this comes with two long players makes my turntable sweat. That track listing smokes.

Just in case you aren’t sure what I am talking about, here is a trailer for the book that I found on YouTube. Word to the wise…have the speakers turned up for this one.

Thanks again. Hey, don’t bother sending that reminder this year…I’ll have the special egg-nog sitting in the fridge for you when you stop by (did you want me to use the Henessey or the Rémy this time?).
Cheers, Judd.

Light: On The South Side

(description from the website)

Between 1975-1977 Chicago’s South Side night clubs were a little lighter. Not just because of a lanky white guy skulking about, but rather because of the camera and strobe light he carried. Michael Abramson hit Perv’s House, Pepper’s Hideout, The High Chaparral, The Patio Lounge, and The Showcase Lounge, not to capture the artists on stage, instead popping off a half dozen rolls every night on the crowd. 

Light: On The South Side gathers for the first time over 100 of these images, as Numero shines its own strobe on yet another dark corner of the past. The 132-page hard back book features photos, an ephemera section, and an essay by Nick Hornby. Housed in a gorgeous slipcase with the 12X12 book is Pepper’s Jukebox, a seventeen track compilation of the kind of funky Chicago blues heard from the stage and the Wurlitizer. The deluxe 2LP set is packaged in a sharp gatefold jacket with two inner sleeves crammed to the gills with label scans and stories. 

The Rock & Roll Three Way: Duane Allman. How the Wicked Pickett, the Queen & Derek all took a ride on this southern boy’s slide

Duane-allman

The Rock & Roll Three Way 

We pick an artist, or a song, or a studio, or a story or some other folks and or lore of Rock and Roll and link it up three ways. This time around we’re having a three way with Brother Duane Allman

Jump, start, ready, go…

Hey Jude

In 1969, Duane Allman was on a hiatus with The Hour Glass (the very early Allman Brothers), having been hired away by the owner of FAME studios located in The Shoals: Muscle Shoals, Alabama. He was hired to play on a  Wilson Pickett album. Pickett loved Allman and nicknamed him “Skydog” because both Duane and his splaying were both always so “high up” in the sky.

Check out The Wicked Pickett on this as he feeds of Skydog’s howl. Look out: chicken-skin alert. This demands high volume and high spirits. 

Jerry Wexler, Atlantic Records uber-exec, heard this (over the phone!) and bought Allman’s contract and brought him north to do session work in the NYC. While in NYC in January of 1969, he attended his first gig at the Fillmore East (as a spectator).

By December of that year, he and the Brothers would return to the fabled music hall only this time it was as an act. While there they laid down their signature live sound on “At The Fillmore East”. Hot Damn. 

The Weight
The original version of this song by The Band had a profound effect on me. It started me down my path from music fan to music freak. Aretha Franklin covers it adding a whole lotta soul to gut punch to it. Aretha: my old man’s fave rave singer of all time. She was on the box constantly while I was growing up.

When Wexler brought Duane on up to NYC, the one of the first sessions he played on was for The burgeoning Queen of the soul sound: Aretha. Listen to that southern, soul, sweet slide Duane plays. Stunning.

When I heard this version, it spun my top. How can the same song be played in two totally different styles and still have that same gut-punch feel. Hot Damn. Cool Shit. 

Little Wing: w/EC & the Dominoes
In 1970  the stars aligned (literally and figuratively) to create a guitar jamming duo for the ages: Eric Clapton and Duane Allman. Eric Clapton had said that he remembered hearing Duane’s playing on The Wicked Pickett’s version of ‘Hey Jude’ and being “astounded by the lead break at the end”. Clapton said that upon hearing it, he “had to know who that was… immediately”. He found out. 

This tandem traded licks, riffs and fretboard fireworks on the legendary, lightening strike album, “Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs“. 

Was it not enough that two supreme six-stringers shared shuffles and searing solos slathered in stunning, sonic superiority? (that was fun). No, it wasn’t. They had to push their own guitar hero worship one step further; excuse them while they kissed the sky.

Clapton and Allman stood on the shoulders of a giant who died just a couple months prior and covered one of his songs: Little Wing. 

There you have it…The Rock & Roll Three WayDuane Allman & Wilson Pickett doing a Beatles cover >> Duane Allman & Aretha Frankin doing a Band cover 3 >>> Duane Allman & EC doing a Jimi cover.  A R&R Three Way…under the covers, no less. 

Tammy Wynette: “She’s Just Unrelenting” (painted up & powdered up and ready to go bad)

If you are a fan of country music…real country music…you most surely will be interested in this book about a true queen of the country music scene: Tammy Wynette: Tragic Country Queen.

I’m not a huge Tammy fan if for no other reason than that I am a causal listener…for now). That being said, I’ve never left the room or hit the skip button when her pipes are working their magic.  I found this interview with the book’s author, Jimmy McDonough, on NPR. Says, McDonough: “I have a theory that great artists learn how to do one thing great. And that’s Tammy,” McDonough says. “In terms of a slow, sad song, nobody could rip it up like Tammy. She is just unrelenting.”

There is also a can’t-stop-reading excerpt from the book on the page. Dolly Parton chimes in with some dropped-jaw comments, too. Here is a killer bit:

When she gets to the chorus, Wynette belts out the words with the force of an air-raid siren, yet barely bats an eyelash. There’s zero body language—the drama’s all in the voice. She doesn’t act out the song or punch her fist in the air; in fact, she barely moves an inch. Tammy the statue. Until a Tinseltown choreographer teaches her some questionable dance steps in the mid-eighties, Wynette will remain frozen onstage. The anti-style of Tammy’s wax-figure performances absolutely mystified Dolly Parton. “I could not believe that all of that voice and all that sound was comin’ out of a person standin’ totally still. I’d think, ‘How is she doin’ that?’ It seems like you’d have to lean into your body or bow down into it or somethin’ to get all of that out. I’ve never seen anything like it to this day. I was in awe of her. I thought she had one of the greatest voices of all time.”

You wan’t read the whole dang thing now, don’t you. The rest of the excerpt is bow-down. I missed three subway stops because it sucked me in. Have at it…here. The book is on my 2010 reading list. 

Here she is…the swingin’est swinger you ever had…

p.s. McDonough also wrote the very insightful, “Shakey” bio on one of my personal faves, Ol’ Neil Young. I’ve spun this yarn three times already. Eat a peach…

p.p.s. NPR is kicking many goals right now with their multi-angled music coverage. Hipster bullshit or not, they are doing a hell of a job. The apps are gold, too. 

The KIngfish checks in with new nuggets from Mojo Music down in Australia

It is said that the only two things in life you can count on are death and taxes. Well, that may be true, but I have one more for you: killer blues recommendations from The Kingfish. That’s right…the Kingfish is like the “Axis”: he knows everything

 
The Kingfish is my very good friend, Nev. Nev owns Mojo Music…a true independent record shop located in Sydney Australia. Here are a few Mojo themed prior posts to put you in-the-know on Nev and the Mojo vibe. 
 
I used to go to Mojo every Friday night for near five years. Nev is a master curator of real-real-gone, down home blues music. Nev knows his blues shit….in all flavors, shapes and sizes. He has deep knowledge of artists, labels, scenes, and sounds. He has turned me on to many, many artists and sounds that I never knew before. I have amassed quite a collection of Nuggets over the years.
 

Nev’s_Nuggets_(by_album)_2.pdf
Download this file
My own private collection of Nev’s Nuggets
 
 
I used to call all these turn-on’s, “Nev’s Nuggets”. He even dedicated a spot in his newsletter with that moniker (see below). I left Sydney in September 20009. When I left, I gave The Kingfish a chunck on money to use to send periodic instalments to me here in London. 
 

Mojo_Newsletter.pdf
Download this file
The latest Mojo Newsletter
 
 
 
I just received the latest and greatest yesterday in the mail. Hey, just because you aren’t in your neighborhood doesn’t mean you can’t support the neighborhood indie record shop.  I haven’t been able to put my ear to all of this yet, but at first listen…it is pure Mojo:
 
Jericho Alley Volume 1: Blues In Los Angeles 1956 – 1967 (Check the top three albums for track listings at this link). I’ll let The Kingfish describe it in his own words: 
 
“With the 3rd volume just released, this excellent series of compilations provide a fascinating view of the LA RnB scene from 1955 to 1967. Artists featured include Harmonica Slim, Gus Jenkins, King Solomon,Louis Jackson,and plenty more. These comps play really well and are highly recommended for fans of the second tier blues front runners.Tough Guitars, plenty of fine harp blowin’, and some killer vocal performances make these packages hard to resist. Jericho Alley is what you buy when you think you have it all.”
 
The Animals: “Let it Rock” (Live, 1963): This is a live recording with Sonnyboy Williams blowin’ loud on the back half of the album. Check out the pictures below for Nev’s handwritten notes on this album. 

 
Magic Sam: “Magic Touch“: Unfortunately Brother Sam left us early at 32 due to a heart attack.  He was on the rails towards true legendville and his influence is still felt today. Sam didn’t leave a lot of studio material behind, but what he did was the such front-burner material that nothing was left on the table. We blues fans are natural born gold-diggers…treasure seekers…vault sniffers. We look for more juice to squeeze from every piece of fruit we see; squeeze no more. This live set from the Magic Man, Magic Sam is real-deal.
 
The Kingfish also sent me a new Mojo t-shirt hot of the screen press. I’ll be wearing mine specifically for my Nuggets listening session. 
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Thanks again, Brother Nev.
 
 

 

Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling…

“Los angeles give me norfolk virginia, 
Tidewater four ten o nine 
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land callin’ 
And the poor boy’s on the line”

 
- Chuck Berry’s “Promised Land” 

I live that song. Actually, I love that song as sung by Johnnie Allan. I found myself singing it as we “taxied to the terminal gate” when my London to Boston flight landed yesterday. I am back in town for work next week in NYC and Boston. I front-ended the trip with a bit of fun, too.

 
This is only my third trip back to the US in five and a half years. All three of these trips have taken place in the last eight months. It is feels good to come back, especially to a city you have a history with. History, and the past, can be cool so long as you don’t live in it. I don’t, so revisiting it every now and then is a treat. 
 
I’m staying in Harvard Square at the Harvard Square Hotel. It smack-dab in the action here in Cambridge. It was a hot summer evening and the vibe was relaxed, but Alive. People were out and about and I joined them.  As I walked out the door I has Stevie Ray’s version of “Things That I used to Do” playing in my mind’s juke box. Yeah, I knew the plan without thinking about it: record shop, sushi and live music. 
 
I stopped into a record joint I used to frequent, Planet Records. I flipped through the vinyl for about a half an hour. EVERYTHING looked good…all my friends” were there. I wanted to take them all back to London with me. I settled on three choice pieces of the black gold: The Best of Clarence Carter, Jimmy Reed’s “Big Boss Man” and, this I felt was a must seeing as to where I am right now, J.Geils, “The Morning After”.  That J.Geils album is my fave of theirs. It may have one of the all-time moovin’ and groovin’est Side 2′s of all time (yes, remember that records have a side 2).

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I took my prized purchases to the nearby sushi bar and settled in for a heaping helping of sashimi and sake. This is where my plan got changed…and for good reason. I was halfway through with my meal when I got a message from an old friend. He was at the Red Sox game with more mutual friends and their wives. I made doubled time with my chopsticks and then hopped a cab to Fenway Park.
 
Like I said, it is great to dip back into the high-waters of the past…even better when it is a serendipitous exercise. We drank beers, slapped backs and traded stories for a few hours until they had to head back to Rhode Island. I headed back to my room at in Harvard, but not before I stopped in to a local haunt, “Charlie’s Kitchen“. My friend George told me that they have an excellent juke box on the second floor. I couldn’t resist checking out. George knows his shit, especially when it comes to local Boston and music. Hey George, you were right. 
 
I played a mix of well-heeled classics and not-oft-heard nuggets, “You Got the Silver” and “Every Picture tells a Story” representing the former and Link Wray’s, “Chicken Run” and the MC5′s, “Kick out the Jams” representing the latter. 
 
By this time, by London time, I had been up for over 24 hours. I was tired, but this was good process to grab the jet-lag by the short and curlies. I woke up at 11:30am today feeling ready to rip. I’m jumping a bus to Nashua, NH to see some old friends and then on to the Acton Jazz Cafe in Acton, MA. Tonight Peter Parcek is going to shoot bolts of lightening from his fingertips and I want to be there to see it. 
_____

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As I write this I am looking out my window in my Harvard Square hotel room. I couldn’t help but think of lyrics from Bob Dylan’s, “Blind Willie McTell”
 
I”m gazing out the window of the St. James Hotel
And know no one can sing the blues 
Like Blind Willie McTell
 
I had to alter them a bit:
 
I”m gazing out the window of the Harvard Square Hotel
And know no one can play the blues 
Like peter Parcek, my old blues pal

 

“The Mathematics of a Good Album”: Kip comes a calling from Oz with a guest post on Peter Parcek

Our friend from the Land Down Under, Kip, has chimed in with an album review. The album is from one of the members of The 6149′s “Honor Roll” (seen in the sidebar), Peter Parcek. Peter’s latest is called the “The Mathematics of Love” and was just released last week.

It is always a treat when Kip comes a calling with a thought or two on music.

Kip is muso of the highest order. Whilst living in NYC, Kip worked for Rolling Stone mag. Kip was their Aussie correspondent for all things Aussie music related…and then some. Kip and I have shared many a “music summit” together. These summits consisted of equal parts conversation, storytelling and ice cold, delicious Aussie ales and lagers. Spinning yarns with Kip is a joy. I encourage you to do so here at The 6149.

Thanks, Kip, for taking the time to share your thoughts after your full-on, four hour-plus listening session with “The Mathematics of Love”. After reading his take on Peter’s latest ten song class act, real deal, guitar legend in the making album, you’ll know why Jann and crew were keen to keep Kip on the payroll.

Disclaimer: I have to mention that my connection with Peter runs deeper than a near twenty year fan and friend relationship: I now work for the label that released Peter’s album. That, my friends, is a story I will tell another day, soon.

So, without further adieu…Kip’s review.

—– The Mathematics of a Great Album

Peter Parcek is one of those unknown legends we stumble upon occasionally. Very occasionally. They’ve paid their dues many times over but, for whatever reason, they’ve remained a relative secret to all but a devoted few. But when we find them and start listening, a knowing smile joins our closed eyes and lolling head in instant appreciation.
The Peter Parcek 3 have just released a new album, The Mathematics Of Love, and it’s an absolute top-shelf cracker.

The paradoxical title announces the album’s intentions immediately: a patchwork quilt of carefully measured pieces that ultimately creates a unique whole that is far greater than the sum of its impressive parts. The set is a beautifully integrated production with each musician sharing the honours and each playing a vital role. A classic, tight, three piece led by an out-and-out geetar maestro.

The PP3 have sown their seed in fertile blues/roots territory but they also show a masterly touch at driving a toe-tapping, funk/jazz groove. The band’s obvious infatuation with three-piece grooves provides a welcome relief from the radio-ready synthesizers and compressors often found in contemporary blues projects.

The overall feel of the set is helped enormously by Parcek’s clever choice of covers. From ballsy alt-country darlings, Lucinda Williams and Jessie Mae Hemphill, through blues thoroughbreds Peter Green, Harlan Howard, Cousin Joe Pleasant and Mississippi Fred McDowell, Parcek approaches each cover as if they were a semi-blank canvas. The resulting musical whole is often-times spellbinding; allowing you to luxuriate in the idiosyncrasies of these monolithic tunes.

Unlike its bastard child Rock ‘n’ Roll, the Blues is filled with rules, but it has a logic that allows remarkable freedom within the well worn grid of notes and chord sequences. If, like Parcek, you submit and are in total control of your ‘canvas’ and are willing to go where the music takes you, old songs are just waiting to be had and new songs, for the gifted, are there to be written. And rest assured, the four originals here are well chosen, beautifully written and provide the rock solid foundations that this record is built upon.

Parcek is an axeman who teenage boys should be dreaming of while doing their best SRV/Hendrix impersonations in bedrooms and garages across middle America. He taps those same well-worn resources but does so with taste and a healthy dollop of soulful grooves and jazz inflections. Indeed, the upright bass and drumming on Kokomo Me Baby and Rollin’ With Zah is straight out of a late-night gig at The Blue Note. Or, a road-side rockabilly joint in Kentucky, for that matter.

Parcek drops in some jaw-dropping technical wizardry, but he does it in a timely and measured way that avoids blatant wankery. Indeed, his mastery allows his guitars to achieve heights never reached by even the most accomplished speed freak heavy metal guitarists.

But whether full throttle or in after-hours mode, Parcek makes it all immediately indelible. And his vocal – often a counterpunch – is just as warm and indelible as his incendiary rapid-fire fretwork. His cool voice has a range, versatility and timing that is essential in carrying this collection of tracks to their respective peaks. The gut-wrenching vocal by-play on the slow burning Tears Like Diamonds is positively gorgeous and one of the many vocal highlights.

Every year or two, if you listen to enough music you finally get to hear something exceptional – but The Mathematics Of Love goes beyond that lofty designation. Whether it’s the semi-angry lament that runs through the title track, the rollicking bar-room groove of Busted, or the ‘everything old is new again’ feel of Williams’ Get Right With God, Parcek’s evocations of urban grooves are always engaging and seriously entertaining. Do yourself a favour and get a copy of this gem. Trust me, you will not be disappointed.

—–

Peter had an album launch party at the House of Blues in Boston last week. When I say it was a bow-down event…I mean it was a BOW-DOWN event. I will have lay down the full low-down another time; but, have a look at some video one of the guests shot of the Peter Parcek 3 in action. Peter and the guys played a one and a half hour set complete with five crowd inspired (demanded!) encores. Here is the link to check out vids that were crowd captured.

http://www.youtube.com/user/spi534

(apologies for the crude link/no imbedded video. I am on a plane flying to Italy as I type this and I can’t perform any web wizardry at this moment. Just the same, go check out the link…you’ll be glad for it)

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