Sep 152023
 

One reflection on the ravages of the Grim Reaper is that it offers the opportunity for folks to be reminded of the breadth of talent offered by those on the wrong side of the grass. And what a talent Leon Russell’s was. One of the founding fathers of contemporary American music, Russell got his start in sessions with the Wrecking Crew, that seasoned band of players, gilding the lily of any number of better remembered performers. Next, he took on the task of ringmaster for Joe Cocker’s Mad Dogs And Englishmen, thereby inventing the whole milieu of raggedy roots revues.

Thereafter, Russell cemented his reputation producing and playing for and with everyone, from Bob Dylan and George Harrison to most of the Rolling Stones. An early adopter was Elton John, much later able to repay the influence with 2009’s The Union, a record co-credited to each of them, boosting once again the standing of then then-ailing Russell. Seven years later, he was to die in his sleep, a heart attack complicating previous surgery, at 74. No more would he grace the stage in the guise of an Old Testament prophet, bedazzling in his white suit, with his mane of white hair and beard crowned usually by a hat, ten-gallon or top, white too.

A side arm of his career included a series of albums under the nom de guerre, Hank Wilson, wherein he took on the mantle of a country bluegrass rocker, with four albums of honky-tonk music, with another being his mentoring and production duties for funk outfit, The Gap Band; they also backed him on ‘Stop All That Jazz’, in 1974. Another fun fact: his 1978 album Americana was potentially the first sighting of the word, a full 21 years ahead the Americana Music Association coming into existence. So yeah, a whole lot more to him than just “Delta Lady,” “Superstar” and “A Song For You.”

With a body of work stretching to nearly 40 albums, solo or collaboration, studio and live, the problem for a Leon Russell tribute album is what not to cover, and what stones to leave unturned. A Song for Leon truly has its work cut out for it; for the most part, it does proud to both the tribute album genre and the Master of Space and Time himself.
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Sep 112023
 

Yes, Once More does and should sound familiar, it being the completion of a project started some time ago, with Jenni Muldaur and Teddy Thompson tackling the great country songbook, specifically as it relates to the duet format. Initially envisaged as a series of three E.P.s, it seemed to grind to a halt after the first two. These two second generation singers had memorably tackled the pair covering first Porter (Wagoner) and Dolly (Parton), the second George (Jones) and Tammy (Wynette). And then we waited.

This time, rather than a third EP, this release is a full-length disc, compiling the first 2 EPs and adding a further four songs. Again the mastermind behind this project is David Mansfield, veteran producer and player, responsible also for Teddy Thompson’s recent My Love Of Country. It seems pointless to repeat and rehearse the opinions around the first eight songs on this album: the songs and our view of them remain the same. But let’s give due space to the new butcher’s handful. Continue reading »

Aug 252023
 

SpellboundThe return of Siouxsie Sioux to the stage this year was as welcome as it was unexpected. Her not performing in public for the past decade did not mean her fans had forgotten her. Some folk have never abandoned her signature look, and people born long after she had her biggest hits could be seen with that look in British cities and beyond during the interregnum. The music never went away, the originals on repeat and lots of cover versions. Cleopatra Records have assembled an outstanding list of devotees to pay homage in the well-timed tribute Spellbound.

There is a tendency to look at Siouxsie and the Banshees, driven by Siouxsie and Steve Severin, with dark purple lenses.  But that can neglect the breadth of their achievements. To wit:

  • The first iteration of Siouxsie’s pre-Banshees band had Billy Idol and Sid Vicious in it and fitted with the punk ethos of the day.
  • The infamous moment when the Sex Pistols let loose expletives on prime-time TV started when presenter Bill Grundy made a clumsy pass at Siouxsie.
  • One classic lineup of Siouxsie and the Banshees was a driving guitar band, expertly produced by Steve Lillywhite, who later developed U2 and Big Country.
  • Their biggest hit in the UK was an audacious cover of “Dear Prudence,” chosen as Robert Smith (filling in between iterations of The Cure) knew the melody.
  • By the time of their only (!) hit in the US, 1991’s “Kiss Them for Me,” Talvin Singh’s tabla rhythms were in the mix, before a wide swath of artists adopted the sound.
  • Many miles away from the center of the action for pop, in a town just outside of Glasgow, the Jesus and Mary Chain showcased art school antics and developed the shoegaze sound, citing the Banshees as a significant influence.
  • The Banshees had a prototype trip-hop song as early as 1983.

Of course, on this site we are interested in their history of covers, and here too the band excelled. Their 1987 Through the Looking Glass album gave insight into their influences and heroes. These were not in punk but in classic pop and rock, heavily featuring those artists who presented a whole package of music, visuals, and attitude. Siouxsie performed with Iggy Pop just this year, which went better than when she performed with Nico in the ’70s. In the video for “The Passenger,” Siouxsie and the band were clearly larking about, comfortable where they were and with each other.

Siouxsie’s influence was very broad across genres and artists, and female artists have consistently expressed gratitude just for Siouxsie’s existence as a trailblazer and icon.  From her first recording, Siouxsie called the shots, rejecting her label’s choice of producer, and choosing one that better reflected what she wanted to do. That first single was a hit. Did that make it easier for the next generation of highly talented women to get their vision expressed?  You can only hope.
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Aug 212023
 

Given the links between the Wainwright dynasties and the Thompson equivalent, I always think of Rufus Wainwright and Teddy Thompson, lifelong friends and competitors, certainly the former, playing together as children whilst their parents made their musical footprints. Indeed, there seems often a Wainwright present whenever the Thompsons congregate for a collective show, and possibly vice versa. Last month Rufus W put out his recent Folkocracy, reviewed here, the North American honoring, by and large, the music from the other side of his pond. Now, with My Love of Country, Teddy is now doing the same in reverse, with this paean to American music. Kinda wish he called it Countrypolitan, but he didn’t. Anyway, this isn’t Thompson’s first set of Nashville covers; 2007’s Upfront and Down Low served as his first rodeo. Plus, as we wait impatiently for the 3rd EP of his Teddy and Jenni EPs, with Jenni Muldaur, each covering a different set of famous country duet artists, it may not be his last.

For years I’ve held the hope aflame that one day Richard might get routinely referred to as Teddy’s father, rather than for Teddy to be always Richard (and Linda)’s son. But, despite seven largely well-received albums, and another half-dozen plus as a producer, Teddy’s career has always seemed to be as a supporting act, and I fear that day may have passed. A pity, as he has a strong and emotive voice, a keening tenor that is perfect for picking up all the emotions and sadness that populate many of his songs. Not to mention that of the whole anguished canon of country music. A consummate interpreter of existential angst, you just know that when he approaches lyrical distress, tears are going to be well and truly jerked.
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Aug 142023
 

I’m uncertain whether Goo Goo Muck: A Tribute to the Cramps offered much in the way of notice, sneaking out, as it did, at the beginning of the month and maybe possessing a best-kept-secret status similar to the venerable band themselves. It wasn’t so much that the Cramps were unheard of, but, it always struck me, that they were un-heard. Everyone had read about them and tutted about the photos, thinking them exactly the sort of pop filth that shouldn’t be thrown at our youngsters. But, give ’em a go, and they are quite the surprise. Hell, they even had to invent a genre of their own: psychobilly, and what a fine title that was. And yes, if it betrays the broad musical axis upon which they swung, that of the rudimentary buzz of rockabilly, it also shows quite what they did with it. Mind, don’t go thinking psycho short for psychedelic, not their bag at all. This was, and is, psycho in full I was a teenage axe-murderer mode.

I remember looking at the photos in the inky pages of Britain’s New Musical Express, long before getting my ears on them, in awe at the appearances of Lux Interior and Poison Ivy Rorschach, possibly not their real names. They looked mean and bad and, alone in my teenage room, I wanted to be like them. I guess “Human Fly” was the song I heard first, a no-hit single in 1978, a buzzy earworm of a song that laid its larvae deep in my brain, a recurring item on the mixtapes I made in the day, gifts to all and sundry. Doing the standard research for this piece, I was astonished to see, these two apart, the sole permanent crew, they had had twenty other (often splendidly named) members over their 43-year career. Naively I had thought the Lux, Ivy, Bryan Gregory and Nick Knox combo to have been together near for always, yet I am not totally certain they even were all in the same band at the same time, failing also to clock that Kid “Congo” Powers had also been a later member for a while. (Huh, call yourself a fan!) Active from 1976 to 2009, I guess they more blanked out than fizzled, circumstance wrapping up the band as much as any projected plan, when Lux Interior suffered a fatal aortic dissection, where your main artery from the heart splits asunder.

It is down to the L.A. based independents Cleopatra label, home of many a disparate oddball performer, from Alien Ant Farm to the mercurial Wanda Jackson, that we have to thank for Goo Goo Muck. It’s far from the first to pay tribute to this maverick band. Earlier tributes have included such titles as 2002’s Larsen 19,  2011’s Cramped, Volume 1, and 2020’s Really Bad Music for Really Bad People. However, this time around, rather than trotting out broadly facsimile versions by fanbands and acolytes, the likes of country outlaw Shooter Jennings and Jerry Lee’s little sister Linda Gail Lewis get to throw their caps in the ring.
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Aug 082023
 

Day of the DougA bit late to the party on Son Volt’s newest, around for a week or six, but forgive that tardiness, it’s worth it. First things first, full marks for the title Day of the Doug, a second gen play on words that sounds as if it reflects back on any number of Days. Could be about the Dead, Mexican, as the cover art reflects; could be about the Dead, Grateful, let alone dubious Dog days (or even Dawg days) that might sit in the calendar and greetings card print runs. (I kinda like the idea of Dawg Day, feeling a Dave Grisman tribute day would be cool, but I am digressing.)

Doug is, or was, Doug Sahm, a.k.a. Sir Douglas when he ran his quintet. His life was cut short by a coronary at only 58, and there are few Texas musicians remembered with such love. His career encompassed five decades, from 1955 to the year of his death in 1999. But it wasn’t just about that longevity, it was the styles he absorbed and exuded, seemingly without effort, from the British Invasion type power pop he aped in the 1960s, to the rock and roll ahead of that, and the little bit country, little bit R&B, little bit jazz, little bit blues and a whole heap of Tex-Mex he finished up playing, a veritable pioneer in his gumbo of rootsy Americana.
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