THE RISING STORM

The UK didn’t produce garage bands; in post-austerity Britain few enough people had cars,
let alone covered accommodation for them. The Brit equivalents cut their teeth during the
early sixties in youth clubs or in the few schools whose music teachers were sufficiently
broad-minded to admit that anything more recent than Elgar was actually music. In these
restrictive settings a rash of teenage groups got together on cheap instruments to bash out
joyous covers of the black American underground sounds recently imported by merchant
seamen and cult blues enthusiasts. The Animals in Newcastle, the Rolling Stones in
Dartford, the Spencer Davis Group in Birmingham and those four lads in Liverpool all offered
their own distinctive takes on R’n’B, coloured by their preferred influences: Berry and Diddley
for the Stones, Hooker and Jimmy Reed for the Animals and the Spencers, Tamla and
Arthur Alexander for the Fabs. The Mark Leeman Five chose to enhance their R’n’B with
a smattering of funky jazz via the likes of Booker T, Ray Charles and Nina Simone, mostly
courtesy of their trump card, the splendid acoustic/electric pianist and occasional organ
player Terry Goldberg. Along with the spiky guitar of Alan Roskams and the solid rhythm
section of David Hyde (bass) and Brian Davison (drums) came the aggressive, punky pipes
of Mark Leeman.

The Five assembled at school in Woolwich in 1961, and their initial influence was clearly Joe
Meek judging by their first demo single. The second covered Barrett Strong’s “Money” – well
before the Fabs got hold of it – and indicates their change of direction. Sometime in 1963
they cut an eleven-track demo album which was two years ahead of its time and didn’t find
a sponsor. Undaunted, Leeman and the lads built up a formidable live following around the
capital until spotted by Manfred Mann’s manager Ken Pitt in January of the following year;
an impressed Pitt subsequently ensured prestigious support slots to the Manfreds. Twelve
months later a single “Portland Town” b/w “Gotta Get Myself Together”, the latter benefitting
from harp by Paul Jones, finally hit the record racks. Five months further on, and tipped
by their peers as the band “most likely to succeed”, the Five’s train hit the buffers when
Leeman was killed in a car crash on his way home from a gig in Blackpool. Vocalist Roger
Peacock was recruited to replace him, but as a tribute to their former frontman the band
kept the same name. Three further singles were released, but the zeitgeist was past and the
Five folded within a year. The only member to find subsequent celebrity was Brian “Blinky”
Davison, who went on to thump the tubs with the Nice.

The Five’s recorded oeuvre remained in limbo till 1991, when with Ken Pitt’s assistance
See For Miles released this compilation which includes both sides of the two early demos,
both sides of the four later singles and the whole of the demo album (allegedly previously
unreleased, although I’ve found reference to it as Rhythm And Blues Plus!, including cover
art, on one website: possibly a few pressings did escape). The three final singles, produced
by Denny Cordell, are competent, unremarkable Manfred-ish fare, deliberately commercial.
The second demo single and the album are revelatory; though all the tunes are covers,
the musicianship is impressive and the energy is astonishing, the latter blasting through
the unpolished but surprisingly clean production. Goldberg’s stomping electric piano take
on “Green Onions”, IMHO, blows the original away. His boogie-woogie piano and Roskams’s
bluebeat guitar power a fine, edgy rendition of Simone’s “Forbidden Fruit”, while “Work
Song” and “Let The Sunshine In” hold up easily against the better-known versions by
Mose Allison and Ray Charles. The straightforward R’n’B cuts include the overworked
staples “Shame, Shame, Shame”, “Got My Mojo Working” and “You Can’t Judge A Book”,
but the Five attack these as if they’d never been heard before, with Goldberg’s piano always
to the fore.

The Memorial Album has never seen a re-release and is now hard to find; I picked up my
copy in a record store clearout some ten years ago. However, copies can be found at a
price, and both collectors with an ear for early British Invasion influences and fans of quality
R’n’B garage music from the Animals to the Mysterians should hunt down this fine early
example of the genre.

mp3: Green Onions
mp3: Forbidden Fruit

CD |  1990 | Sfm | at amazon ]

As we all know, the oldest cliché in rock is the casualty list. There are the high-profile heroes of misadventure: Buddy Holly, Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan. There are those that couldn’t handle success and took the ultimate way out: Nick Drake, Kurt Cobain, Jeff Buckley. But perhaps saddest of all are those huge talents who unaccountably chose simply to fade into obscurity, often in self-imposed seclusion: Brian Wilson, Peter Green, Emitt Rhodes . . . and Shuggie Otis.

Johnnie Velotes Jr was a precocious musical polymath. Son of extrovert jump-jive bandleader Johnnie Otis, Shuggie inherited the musical gene in spades, playing guitar, bass, drums, keyboards and vibes fluently before reaching his teens. At fifteen he replaced Mike Bloomfield in Al Kooper’s occasional all-star supergroup for the album Kooper Session: Al Kooper Introduces Shuggie Otis. In the same year he played bass on the sessions for Frank Zappa’s Hot Rats; that’s Shuggie’s bubbling, syncopating bass on “Peaches En Regalia”.

A year later the teenage prodigy released his first solo album, Here Comes Shuggie Otis, co-written and produced by his father and backed by the cream of Johnnie Sr’s session pals. The second followed a year later: its title Freedom Flight symbolised Shuggie’s breaking loose from his father’s patronage, with most compositions being credited to him alone and with a much smaller coterie of backing players, while Shuggie overdubbed his own bass and keyboard parts and wrote his own string and brass charts. But even this new level of creative control wasn’t enough: his third and final album, Inspiration Information, took three years to construct, with Shuggie playing everything bar the horns and strings which he scored. And then, at the age of 22, Shuggie Otis went into self-imposed retirement. Apart from occasional studio sessions for other artists and, recently, some low-key live appearances in Northern California, he’s remained silent and invisible.

The first album is an enthusiastic freshman romp through blues and funk, showcasing Shuggies’s youthfully exuberant guitar; the last is an introspective, sensitive effort that unites soul and jazz in what would now be called ambient soundscapes, way ahead of its time but with a curiously vulnerable, unfinished quality. Freedom Flight is undoubtedly his most-realised collection. The blues/funk axis carries over from Here Comes, notably on the killer opener “Ice Cold Daydream” and the sole cover, Gene Barge’s “Me And My Woman”, but with a far more mature, considered approach to his guitar playing from the eighteen-year-old virtuoso. The album also nods in other directions; the gorgeous psychedelically-tinged California soul of “Strawberry Letter 23” with its astonishing coda, the restrained modal slide guitar work on “Sweet Thang” and the guitar/flute dialogue that ends the joyous “Someone’s Always Singing”. But the big surprise is the title track, which moves unexpectedly into the most melodic of free jazz with the guitar improvising against tenor sax, Fender Rhodes and a ubiquitous wind chime for thirteen minutes, and not a wasted note anywhere – Shuggie’s absolute masterpiece. This points toward the third album, and the direction he’d probably have taken thereafter had he stayed the course.

One reviewer called Shuggie Otis the link between Sly Stone and Stephen Stills; personally I’d say between Mike Bloomfield and Curtis Mayfield. But such comparisons are subjective and irrelevant. If you want to follow up this brilliant, enigmatic young musician’s brief career on CD, Inspiration Information was reissued on David Byrne’s Luaka Bop imprint in 2001 with four key tracks from Freedom Flight included as bonus cuts, while the first two albums reappeared in full as a twofer on the excellent Raven label from Australia in 2003. Both releases are unreservedly recommended.

mp3: Ice Cold Daydream
mp3: Strawberry Letter 23

Original Vinyl | 1971 | Epic | search ebay ]
CD Reissue | 2003 | 2fer | Raven | at amzn ]

Something tells me, if I had been at San Francisco’s Avalon Ballroom in June of ‘67 to witness Moby Grape at the height of their powers, scorching through their set of two-minute pop blasts, blaring triple-guitar action and five-part harmonies soaring, I might not have survived the night. None was the match of the mighty Grape in those days; the band was “flying musically” and easily the toughest act around. Moby Grape Live is the first official release to afford a glimpse into the raucous and entrancing stage performances of one of the most exciting, original, and underappreciated bands of the ’60s.

Separated into four sides, this double LP takes us to performances from the same weeks their infamously overhyped masterpiece Moby Grape was released, to their few high-octane minutes at the legendary Monterey International Pop Festival, jumping forward to a 1969 performance in Amsterdam featuring cuts from Wow and ‘69, and ending back at the start: a full side of  ”Dark Magic,” recorded New Years Eve, 1966. This one’s worth the purchase for Side 1 alone. The rabid energy of the band, issuing rapid-fire gems like “Rounder” and “Looper,”  hits a high point in “Changes” into “Indifference” featuring Jerry Miller’s careening lead guitar. Skip Spence turns in a beautifully honest vocal to cap the blistering set with “Someday.” The highlight for me, however, are the post-Skip tracks from 1969 on Side 3. “Murder in my Heart for the Judge” shows the band at their loosest, the slack and soul of the rootsier Grape a refreshing contrast. “I am Not Willing,” one of their best songs, gets a grooving drawn out treatment and it’s interesting to hear a matured group attack earlier hits “Fall on You” and “Omaha.” The closing 17-minute raga, “Dark Magic,” is more than a piece of rock music history, an actually listenable and fascinating performance, it features inspiring guitar leads, primitive electronic squeals, Skip’s far out vocal, and the driving force of sound that made Moby Grape one of the hottest band of the era.

Sundazed has curated an important document here. Hardcore Grape addicts should note much of this material has been featured on bootlegs over the years (notably the tracks from Monterey Pop and “Dark Magic”) but none of this has ever been officially released, and never with such pristine sound quality. David Fricke’s notes are the icing on the cake. After the essential debut record, this is the Moby Grape record I would recommend next.

mp3: Omaha (1967, Monterey Pop)
mp3: Murder in My Heart for the Judge (1969, Amsterdam)

180 Gram Vinyl | 2-LP | 2010 | Sundazed | buy at sundazed ]
CD | 2010 | Sundazed | buy at sundazed ]

After too many years over-exposure to the words “Jeremiah was a bullfrog…” I thought I would never make it all the way through another version of “Joy to the World.” Hoyt Axton’s original delivers the goods though, and much more to dig on this 1971 gem, his most celebrated and “hits” filled record.

Air quotes since none of the “hits” were his own. Before any research, it sounds like a collection of covers, but I was surprised to learn he actually wrote “Joy to the World,” “Never Been to Spain” (both as made famous by 3 Dog),  and “The Pusher” (Steppenwolf). Clearly a talented songwriter but a damn fine performer at that, seeing as how his originals endure better today than their overhyped cover versions. These productions are raw, but layered and textured, a bit twangy and sometimes pumped up with an overdriven gospel chorus. It’s a kind of sound that could even sound good on blown out speakers.

Axton’s vocal varies track to track: sometimes it’s a little unconvincing, like on the swampy “California Women” (great work with the blues harp on this one), but a couple lines in he’ll hook you back. The payoff is in the growl and squonk when his voice is most worn.

This record’s worth it for some key moments. The panning moog (or distorted bass guitar, sax? can anybody call it?) on “Alice in Wonderland’s” addicting chorus.  The first verse of “Lightnin’ Bar Blues” (another song so good I can’t believe it’s original) before the bar fight sound effects nearly ruin the track. And “Have a Nice Day,” now that’s my kind of tune, it’s like the content of a R. Davies track with some J. Sebastian feel.

Get this any way you can find it, but the Raven CD reissue comes as a 2fer with his previous recording, Country Anthem, another great one.

“Alice in Wonderland”

Original Vinyl | 1971 | Capitol | search ebay ]
CD reissue | 2001 | Raven | 2fer | at amazon ]

For a long time I wondered why four guys from the musical wellhead that was late ‘60s San Fran set out to sound like a swamp’n’roll band from the backwoods of Louisiana, whilst accepting as perfectly natural that five young long-haired white boys from London, England should have bust their guts to emulate a black 1950s Chicago bar band. Eventually I stopped wondering and started trying to pin down why this album has remained Creedence’s most underestimated, least discussed collection, despite coming closest to the ideal they sought. Not that it didn’t sell; just that nobody ever seems to mention it till near the end of a CCR conversation, if at all. And at the time of writing it’s running a distant fourth in The Rising Storm’s Creedence discography uReview vote.

The undeniable ability of John Fogerty’s outfit to produce immaculate three-minute power-pop singles shines throughout CCR’s oeuvre, from “Suzie Q” to “Sweet Hitch Hiker”. But this album finds the band stretching out on what is to all purposes a live stage set performed in the studio: raw and honest, high energy, no discernable overdubs. The three long, sweaty, riffing jams – “Born On The Bayou”, “Graveyard Train” and “Keep On Chooglin’” – and the shorter but similar “Bootleg” get as close as CCR ever did to the authentic swamp-rock of Tony Joe White. On the mandatory classic rock’n’roll cover “Good Golly Miss Molly” John does what Paul McCartney did on the Fabs’ version of “Long Tall Sally”: his eviscerating vocal simply leaves the original for dead. “Proud Mary” is the hit single, but despite its prettiness it’s the weakest cut on the album, as the pace and energy level dip temporarily. The real surprise, and true gem, of the whole collection is “Penthouse Pauper”, an uncharacteristic twelve-bar blues on which both John’s voice and his Telecaster are fit to strip wallpaper.

The straightforward, no-frills nature of Creedence’s music enabled them to record and release an astonishing six albums in two-and-a-half years, from July 1968 to December 1970. (Think on that, Coldplay.) Whilst on an extended vacation in western Canada in 2007 I got to talk to and play with a number of young musicians who weren’t born till years after these albums came out. I was surprised to find that CCR was right up there as one of their favourite acts to cover. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised: the simple but irresistable songs, the natural, unaffected guitar sound and that unique banshee voice have a genuinely timeless quality.

“Penthouse Pauper”

CD Reissue | 2008 | Fantasy | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Fantasy | search ebay ]
MP3 Download | at amazon ]

The Rolling Stones may still elicit the soubriquet “the greatest rock’n’roll band in the world”, but in my opinion they’ve produced in a 42-year recording history (to A Bigger Bang, 2005) just two albums really worthy of the full five stars. Both came in the 1960s when they were still comparatively young and hungry, and both interestingly represent periods of transition. Aftermath was a product of their move from faux American R’n’B garage band towards a British pop-psych sensibility motivated by the success of mid-period Beatles and the demand by their manager, Andrew Loog Oldham, that they develop as songwriters; and Beggars’ Banquet the corresponding move back to their roots, post-psychedelia.

Aftermath was the Stones’ first album to comprise only their own compositions, and can be compared to Rubber Soul in its mix of adventurousness and commercial appeal. Although Jagger’s and Richards’ songs are in general not as strong harmonically as Lennon’s and McCartney’s – the Stones lacking the Fabs’ insight into such diverse musical fields as jazz, Tamla, country and showtunes, not to mention a studio Svengali of the calibre of George Martin – the best of them are right up there, and the eclectic instrumentation brought to bear by Brian Jones, Jack Nitzsche and the invisible “sixth Stone” Ian Stewart is every bit as effective as Martin’s baroque embellishments. “Under My Thumb”, “Take It Or Leave It” and “Out Of Time” were all considered commercial enough to be covered immediately as singles by high-profile acts. The eleven-minute bluesy jam “Going Home” (not the Ten Years After song) was unprecedented on a British pop album, yet works brilliantly in the context of the wider work. The one dubious quality is the mysogynous nature of many of the lyrics; “Stupid Girl”, “Thumb”, “Time”, “Dontcha Bother Me” and “Take It” unambiguously reveal Jagger’s prevailing frame of mind.

Despite the classic British Invasion sound of the album, it was recorded in RCA’s Hollywood studios and engineered by Dave Hassinger, who would fall out big-time with the Grateful Dead a year or two later but who got along famously with the Stones if his sleeve notes are to be believed. Production was, as usual, credited to Oldham, but Nitzsche was ever-present at the sessions and the hallmarks of his touch are all over the record. North American readers should note that Aftermath UK is a greatly superior artefact to the US release of the same name, benefitting from omission of the superfluous previous hit single and from the band’s preferred sequencing, not to mention offering fourteen tracks against the US version’s eleven.

“Mother’s Little Helper”

CD Reissue |  2002 | Abkco | at amazon ]
Original Vinyl |  1966 | Decca | at ebay ]

You could say Timebox got a pretty fair deal out of life when compared to other bands we feature here in these pages.  They had a top 40 hit with the Four Seasons’ “Beggin’,” are represented by two terrific cd reissues and their story has been told countless times by all the serious rock n roll magazines/fanzines (Record Collector, Mojo, Shindig, and Ugly Things).   Timebox’s roots lay in the Take 5, a group who came from Southport, England (near Liverpool) and featured talented drummer/guitarist/vibraphonist Peter (Ollie) Halsall.

The group’s classic lineup didn’t really stabilize until early 1968.  By that time Timebox looked something like this: Mike Patto (lead vocals), Ollie Halsall (guitar, vibes and vocals), Chris Holmes (keyboards), Clive Griffiths (bass), and John Halsey (drums).  Prior to these personnel shifts Timbox had released three 45s in 1967.  Piccadilly issued the first two 45s which were largely instrumental efforts but in the cheerful Swingin’ London style.  The A-side of the first 45, ”I’ll Always Love You,” was an excellent pop-soul number, similar in style to the early Action or Small Faces – in other words real mod pop.  In late 67 the group switched over to Deram and released one of the jewels in their crown, a superb cover of Tim Hardin’s “Don’t Make Promises” backed by the soulful acid pop of “Walking Through The Streets Of My Mind.”  Timebox’s version of “Don’t Make Promises” was rather special in that Ollie Halsall played sitar and vibes; the song was dramatically rehauled into something imaginative.  The next single was Timebox’s run at the big time.  “Beggin’” topped out at 38, their highest chart entry by some distance but it was again, a great remake of the Four Seasons classic.

By this time the Patto/Halsall songwriting partnership had began to solidify into something productive.  The group began crafting records that were both experimental but also radio friendly.  Timebox needed a hit 45 for survival.  Their next Deram release was a baroque soul pop number titled “Girl, Don’t Make Me Wait.”  While this track was respectable enough,  it was the brilliant, swirling psychedelia of the B-side that caught my attention most.  “Gone Is The Sad Man” is comparable to a really good track off the Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour: dense, tripped out psych rock.  This single stiffed as did Timebox’s next two Deram releases.  The best of these were “Baked Jam Roll In Your Eye/Poor Little Heartbreaker.”  The A-side was another slice of skewed psychedelia that recounts the tale of two dozen martians who are led by Galloping Klaus (a German martian?).  It’s flip side edged comfortably toward classic rock and is a fine slice of metallic angst.

After so many failures Timebox finally broke up around 1969/1970.  Out of the ashes of Timebox came Patto, the great progressive rock outfit formed by Mike Patto and Ollie Halsall.  Timebox is usually remembered as a table setter for Patto, who would release 3 classic progressive LPs in the early 70s.  RPM’s Beggin’ (2008) collects all Timebox’s 45s (including a rare French release) and much of the Moose On The Loose sessions.  These sessions were recorded in 1968/1969 for what would have been a projected Timebox album.  The group recorded about a dozen tracks at Morgan Studios in Willesden.  Decca heard the results and hated it.  They pulled out, leaving this unheard gem in the vaults for many years.   To my ears Moose On The Loose would have been a fascinating album, close in sound to Traffic’s self-titled 2nd LP.  There’s catchy psych pop (“Promises,” “Tree House,” and “Barnabus Swine”), effective Traffic-like forays into roots rock (“Love The Girl,” “Country Dan and City Lil,” and “Stay There”) and blazing hard rock (“Black Dog”) that point to the future direction Patto and Halsall would take with their progressive outfit.  These recordings highlight Patto’s soulful vocal approach and Ollie Halsall’s wizardry on guitar and vibes .  The Moose On The Loose tracks deliver the goods and prove once and for all that Timebox was one of England’s great lost pop groups.

“Walking Through The Streets Of My Mind”

CD Anthology | 2008 | RPM | buy at amazon ]

At the time of its release an air of mystery pervaded the third studio album proper from Fleetwood Mac. The new, sombre product displayed a seemingly inexplicable change of direction from the preceding high-octane blues-fuelled style. The previously irrepressible Jeremy Spencer is totally absent from the recordings apart from one or two alleged (and inaudible) background piano noodlings, though he appears smiling broadly in the band’s back cover picture. The diminution of Peter Green’s dominance, already clear from the second album, is evinced even further here. Shouldering the new responsibilities is unknown wunderkind guitarist Danny Kirwan, given an unprecedented five (originally seven, but two deleted to allow retrospective inclusion of Green’s double-sided single “Oh Well”) of the individual songwriting credits.

After the rollicking ebullience of the earlier records, the music of Then Play On is often spare and bleak, largely instrumental and, in the case of Green’s compositions, world-wearily sad, both musically and lyrically; the seeds of his later disillusionment, depression and eventual schizophrenia can be clearly heard here. His songs retain a blues flavour, but it’s more oblique, almost incidental. Kirwan’s compositions are more harmonically complex and somewhat more upbeat, but still wistful enough to gracefully complement Green’s songs. What’s most remarkable is the empathy between the two guitarists, who intertwine seamlessly, stylistically and melodically, with just Kirwan’s sharper tone, more pronounced vibrato and generally higher-register playing the difference. Green probably never found a more empathic performance partner, Kirwan a more accommodating mentor. Mick Fleetwood’s drumming is inventive and varied throughout whilst never being overbearing; John McVie’s bass work metronomically understated as ever. For me the highlights are Green’s multifaceted nine-minute masterpiece “Oh Well”, the energetic guitar jam “Searching For Madge” / “Fighting For Madge” which benefits from some fine, mildly lysergic studio editing, Kirwan’s delightful instrumental “My Dream” and Green’s almost unbearably downbeat closer “Before The Beginning”.

Retrospectively this can be seen to be one of the great transitional albums, marking the departure of one of rock’s guitar legends and the start of the first and longest of several turbulent periods for what would become one of rock’s institutions. The absence of the unpredictable Spencer is now thought to be due to a lack of enthusiasm for Green’s downer songs, a theory supported by his making a solo album at the same time . . . to which the other Mac members all contributed. Kirwan’s sudden prominence in the band might have been due at least in part to a romantic attraction on the part of Green, who nicknamed him “young eyes”. And Green’s now universally known psychiatric problems explain his reducing control and ensuing exit. The historical context isn’t necessary to appreciate this haunting, introspective album, but it helps.

“My Dream”

Original Vinyl | 1969 | Reprise | search ebay ]

An unlikely classic if you judge by the sleeve, “Christian of the World” is a sweet slab of gospel rock from the one and only Tommy James. Tommy James and the Shondells are an obsession-worthy group, with a slew of memorable hits to their name. I beg you to listen closer next time “Hanky Panky” comes up on oldies radio – it’s one of the nastier garage beats I’ve heard, though it still hit number one, such a killer track. A string of succeeding uptempo hits marred the group with a “bubblegum” label that Tommy hated, urging him to infuse psychedelic sounds into classics like “Crimson and Clover.” His first two solo records continue seamlessly in the marvelous vintage sound of the Shondells.

Apart from Tommy’s brilliant vocals, it’s the production that draws me in on these records. “Adrienne,” the bass is right in your face, with clacky guitars and percussion beefing up the background. This was recorded in 1971 but still has the magic ‘oldies’ sound. Uplifting rhythm and blues grooves like “Sing, Sing, Sing” and “Church Street Soul Revival” will appeal on the first listen. The classic driving Shondells beat that made “I Think We’re Alone Now” a hit takes hold on “Sail A Happy Ship.”  But “Dragging The Line” would become Tommy’s biggest solo hit, for obvious reasons.

I’m not bothered by the religious bent. God is one of the main reasons for song. It’s devotion, sorrow, fear, faith, and madness all wrapped up in one topic. Tommy James is the master craftsman of pop. I’m off on a Shondells bender.

“Adrienne”

2fer | autographed by Tommy James | @tommyjames.com ]

Released in 1969, The House of Blue Lights was Don Covay’s bold, adventurous attempt to reach the underground audience.  Here Covay is backed by the white-hot Jefferson Lemon Blues Band, credited on the album jacket.  Prior to this LP Don Covay released two of the finest soul/pop albums of the 60’s, Mercy! and See-Saw.

The House of Blue Lights is much different than what came before.  Most of the record is grounded in electrified country-blues; a deep Southern, swampy aura dominates the proceedings.  No soul man of the time tried any blues like this before: raw, anguished and lived-in with lots of twangy guitar solos for good measure.   A few of the numbers, namely the title cut parts 1 & 2, maintain a moody organ-led soul sound that’s highlighted by light sitar flourishes.  These lengthy tracks are clear standouts but other cuts still have the power to stun and amaze.   In the beginning “Mad Dog Blues” hit me like a ton of bricks.  This tune begins with Covay (and band) barking like dogs in heat.  It also features a fantastic flute solo and stinging lead guitar work; play this one LOUD for best results.  “Four Women” is more of the same, Covay’s smooth, soulful vocals complimented by crunching electric guitars and a rocking beat.  Most of the album’s tracks are originals but a few covers are worth mentioning.  Consider the old country-blues standard “Key To The Highway,” Covay manages to breathe new life into this classic warhorse by adding muffled vocals and electric back-porch-blues guitar.

Although blues sounds dominate this set list, The House of Blue Lights is a varied listening experience that’s well paced.  Some tracks are accoustic country-blues (“Steady Roller”)  while others like “Shut Your Mouth” feature greasy blues harp, piano, pounding drum fills and complex song arrangements.   When listening to the great down-and-out ”But I Forgive You” I can’t help but think of a young, bluesy Rolling Stones.  Bruce Eder summed it up best in his review of The House of Blue Lights on allmusic.com; ”This album is not only a great record on its own terms, but it’s sort of a black parallel/precursor to a few blues-rock LPs by white artists that sold a hell of a lot more copies around the same time. Much of the album sounds like the sonic and spiritual blueprint for Let It Bleed and Exile on Main Street and parts of Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs.”

If a bit offbeat, The House of Blue Lights is one of Covay’s best albums.  I’ve seen other reviews refer to the LP as “odd” but I think it’s a wonderful, individual recording that’s seldom been equalled in the world of soul music.   The overall vibe of The House of Blue Lights is that of a great artist and tight band, blasting thru a powerful set of swampy blues rock on one of those hot, humid southern nights.   A true American classic.  SepiaTone reissued this album in 2002 but since then it’s been hard to come by.

“Key To The Highway”

CD Reissue | 2002 | SepiaTone | at amzn ]
Original Vinyl | 1969 | Atlantic | search ebay ]
MP3 Album | download ]

I love mining the cracks and depths of the rock era, hunting down lost or obscure gems, but I’m not about to put some rare junk or novelty crap on my Christmas mix. The holidays are a time for family entertainment and this jock aims to please the crowd. Mostly, I’m looking for classic tracks with the elusive “christmas sound,” that special magic that separates rushed covers of holiday standards from the true “christmas canon.”

Year after year, Booker T.’s In The Christmas Spirit is where it’s at. Famous as the legendary house band at Stax, the MG’s defined the sound of southern soul backing records for the likes of Sam & Dave, Wilson Pickett, and Otis Redding. Even likely the men behind some of the artists on Atlantic’s classic Soul Christmas, cutting classic grooves like Otis’s “Merry Christmas Baby.”

This collection of souled-up instrumentals hits the pocket for me, and it’s versatile as a party record or lite background music. Easily essential this time of year.

Other perfect holiday records to recommend include Phil Spector’s A Christmas Gift For You, The Beach Boys Christmas Album, the original Soul Christmas, and Vince Guaraldi’s A Charlie Brown Christmas.

“Jingle Bells”

Vinyl Reissue | 2009 | Sundazed | buy at sundazed ]

Q. What records are on your Christmas mix?