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Showing posts with label America's Music Legacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label America's Music Legacy. Show all posts

Friday, January 14, 2011

DVD Reviews: Two of the America’s Music Legacy Series, Part 4: Folk, Dixieland Jazz

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet


Part 4: This is just two of a series of six DVDs that have been released to promote a collection of television specials from the 1980s that highlight specific genres of music, with each disc focusing on a one at a time. Note that links to other performances are not present on these compilations.


America’s Music Legacy: Folk
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
120 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com


To be honest, along with the rock and roll one of this series, previously reviewed in this blog, the Folk genre is the one I have been looking forward to the most, and it certainly did not disappoint.

If this were recorded in this present time of the singer-songwriter, it would have been a completely different collection, but for the period it was, the scene was leaning more towards traditional folk. There’s no Dylan, Collins, Ochs, Havens, but they present a solid compilation of live performances by some top of their game artists.

Part of the reason for the level of traditional present here is due to the person who is both hosting and performing. Theodore Bikel is co-founder of the Newport Folk Festival, where Dylan would one day infamously go electric, and who I had the honor to see play at Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn, around 1975. As is common in this series, as the host, he tells the story of folk music, and he gets to sing, but more on that later.

Opening the first of the two edited-together shows is ex-Limeliters singer Glenn Yarborough. He has a distinctive high tenor voice with a Melanie-esque vibrato. Yarborough starts with the light British ballad “Molly,” and goes into a rambunctious telling of “Frankie and Johnny” (you know, “Frankie and Johnny were lovers…”; a lot of British folk songs are about the death of a loved one, be it through murder [e.g., “Down By the River”], war [“Bonny Light Horseman”], or heartbreak [“Barbara Allen”], it seems). His version of this well-worn traditional piece has a high jazz percentage mixed in. Being an oral tradition, folk is open for many interpretations. Unfortunately, he pushes it arguable a bit too far when he returns later in the program doing a totally disco-ized “You Are My Reason.” I had no problem with Dylan going electric, but this is just bad for its own sake. Feh.

Buffy St.-Marie is from Saskatchewan, where I am currently living, and along with Joni Mitchell, she is highly regarded here. It’s no wonder, as the woman has many talents. I’d seen her on the Music Scene television show from the late ‘60s, doing an extremely earnest version of her “Universal Soldier.” Time moves on, and here she starts off with “Cripple Creek,” in traditional First Nations style. She sings while playing a large mouth harp string instrument in a wonderfully dexterous way (there is a small b-roll clip in the trailer, below). This is followed up by the modernized traditional “Starwalker,” which is distinctly Buffy St.-Marie, and shows of the range of her amazing voice. She is such a joy to watch on this program.

From profound to the perky as we are presented with the New Main Street Sing… I mean, the New Christy Minstrels. They open with “Charlottetown” (listed on the clamshell as “Liza Jane”) with the cheery chorus, “Charlottetown is burning down / Goodbye, goodbye.” Happy times. While the TNCM have amazing harmonies, they seem a bit soulless and totally whitebread and whitewashed, a folk equivalent of bland gospel, televangelist style. They may have done better with “Oh, Let Me Fly.” Think I’ll stick to “The Good Book Song” parody (youtube.com/watch?v=G_OJsO8xnRQ&feature=related). They come back later and do an upbeat (no surprise there) “Green, Green,” and a medley of six standards, including “I Dream of Jeannie,” “Camptown Races,” and “Oh Susannah.”

Luckily, the show is redeemed once again by Odetta (d. 2008), who I saw do a powerful set at the Calgary Music Festival in 1994. The power of the woman’s tone alone could slay a dragon. Most of her material has a strong gospel feel without a hit of patronizing. As she strums her guitar, incense stuck into the neck burns away. She also shows what a medley can be, combining “House of the Rising Sun,” “Old House,” and a touch of “Goodnight Irene,” all with a mournful quality.

Unfortunately, Hoyt Axton (d. 1999) will probably be remember more for his role in the film Gremlins than for the writing of his music, much of which has become cultural lynchpins, such as “Joy to the World” and “Never Been to Spain” (heck, his mom co-wrote Elvis’s “Heartbreak Hotel”). But it was his lesser known (by much of my crowd, anyway) folk and country material that touch me the most. Here he does two of his own songs, starting with the great “Greenback Dollar” (original covered by the Kingston Trio, but a fine version was released by the Washington Squares). The other is a song about cocaine (surprised this one made it passed the censor in the early ‘80s) called “Della and the Dealer.” His rough-hewn voice is perfect for this material.

Introduced by Buffy St.-Marie, host Bikel takes the stage. He has a distinctive European patter to his voice that adds a flavor to his sound. He once did a great turn with Judy Collins dueting “Greenland Fisheries”: youtube.com/watch?v=s7ZxnhZ0Fig. Here, he starts of with a stirring and zippy version of Phil Och’s “There But For Fortune.” Sadly, he follows this up with Jim Croce’s lame “Time in a Bottle” (as Kenne Highland once wrote in a song: “Jim Croce’s records never sold / But when he died they all turned gold”). My guess is Bikel was trying to show old school and (then) new, binding them together.

Speaking of really old school, the Blue Fame String Band presents some Appalachian style traditional sounds with “Aunt Caroline Dyer Blues,” using banjo, fiddle, two acoustic guitars, and an electric bass. This is the type of stuff Alan and John Lomax brought into the popular culture mindset, with images of fog on the mountainside, and moonshine, perhaps.

The first part ends with everyone coming back to the stage and singing Woody Guthrie’s (does any really need the last name?) “This Land is Your Land,” which Bikel refers to as “the unofficial national anthem of folk music.”

While Glenn Yarborough was once a member of the Limeliters, who hail from San Francisco, he is not included in the trio as the group starts of the second part. There are two original members, and a new third that picks up the high tenor gap Glenn left behind. Their first is a rousing version of a rousing song, “There’s A Meeting Here Tonight,” followed by Woody’s “Traveling Wayfarin’ Stranger” and the Weavers’ “Lonesome Traveler.” The trio have really close harmonies, with which they play with the melodies and the pacing in very entertaining ways.

Described as “a man, his guitar, and his talent,” Josh White Jr. proves he is quite the talent without familial associations (and yet he seems to be forever in his father’s shadow). Josh is backed by just his fingersnapping in the first tune, the spiritual a capella “I’ve Been Down” (“I’ve been down so long / getting up never crossed by mind”). With his guitar, he performs the playfully upbeat style blues of “Where Were You Baby When My Heart Went Out.”

While he may be blind, Doc Watson is a top finger-picker (no, I don’t have any idea what one has to do with the other, any more than he is from North Carolina). Also unrelated, in Watson’s intro, Bikel manages to give an indirect slam to electric music, i.e., Dylan and rock). But I digress… Getting back to Doc, he is an old-tyme country player, Woody-style, starting off with a lively cover of the moving “Fix Me a Pallet,” followed by the classic I-IV-V rhythm of “I Got the Blues.”

Bringing us back to the Appalachian Olde-English-based subgenre is music historian (and musician) Jean Ritchie, of Kentucky. With dulcimer in hand, she wails “March Down to Old Tennessee.” I particularly liked the very short background or description she gives explaining how it was illegal for women to dress like men, as in the next song, “They Call Me Jackero.” Of course, there are lots of songs of women following men into battle, such as “500 Miles” and the aforementioned “Bonny Light Horseman.” In this case, the protagonist fights beside her love and saves his life.

Dave von Ronk (d. 2002) is such a dynamic performer, it’s no wonder he mentored other great musicians such as Christine Lavin. As a leader of the urban folk movement (Dylan, Ochs, etc.), this Brooklynite belts some jazz blues with “Sunday Street,” for which he refers to himself as a “city-billy.” His second piece, “Garden State,” has a Brel-ish melody, while he shouts out the lyrics, consisting only of the names of towns in New Jersey (in rhyme, yet).

A jug band, led by Mary McCaslin and Jim Ringer, sails through the country bluegrass (I did say jug band, y’know) “Sunday Street.” Jim does all the singing and she plays, but for some reason, she still has a mic. Just an observation; go figure. They are quite joyous.

With a John Hartford (he would have been good to have here) banjo-pickin’ singing-talking style, John McEuen (of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band) plays “Old Man From Missouri,” only he mixes it up a bit with traditional stirred with a more modernized tone. Then he starts playing real fast. Punk banjo anyone?

To finish off as the second set began, the Limeliters come back for “That’s Just the Way It Goes,” giving it a modern klezmer twist.

There was a lot to enjoy in this collection, and it’s easy to recommend to any folker. And yet, there are so many others I would have loved to have seen, like Joe & Eddie (in clips, as Joe died in an accident in ’66; youtube.com/watch?v=WBo-SSVNw-g&feature=related), The Allen-Ward Trio (youtube.com/watch?v=c2gAuSGyDmQ), and Dana & Brown, among so many others, but that’s just me dreaming and being unrealistic about the time allotted, I guess…


* * *


America’s Music Legacy: Dixieland Jazz
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
95 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com


What is the difference between jazz and Dixieland jazz? The latter is a mix of Spanish, French, Caribbean and African influences. It also relies heavily on brass and woodwinds, and is generally an upbeat sound. Once a perennial Mardi Gras parade member, host and trumpeter Al Hirt (d. 1999) describes it as “happy music,” though it does share some of the blues.

The sound is not as common now as when I was growing up, as jazz has become more codified, even in its freedom of expression. Just the white hair on so many of the musicians on this two-edited-into-one musical extravaganza shows that it is a sound that may have passed its time, like the related big band swing. I’m not saying it’s gone, just that it’s not as prevalent as it used to be. But again, as Hirt states proudly, referring to this music, “The south will rise again.”

The musicians used throughout this program is called the New Orleans Jazz All-Star Band, made up of Hirt’s and Woody Herman’s back-up, including at times such jazz luminaries as Bobby Havens, Eddie Miller, Ray Leatherwood, Gene Estes, Michael “Peanuts” Hucko, Ray Sherman, Fred Crane, Edward Huntington, and Colin Bailey.

Woody Herman and his band open up the show with a stirring “Jazz Me Blues” and “Basin Street Blues,” upbeat numbers with a rousing clarinet. As with most of numbers here, it is common for the lead musician to give way to the others in the band for a chance to shine. Dixieland is very magnanimous that way (and jazz tends to be in general; you really need to know what you’re doing and be able to improvise to play it well).

Much of the music and dialog revolve around trumpeter Louis Armstrong (d. 1971). Also known as Satchmo, or just Pops, he was a New Orleans native who brought the sound to the world in the 1920s. In later years, though, he moved to Queens, NY, and is buried there. Hirt reads off a short but informative bio of Armstrong, and shows some photos and clips.

It only makes sense that one of his musical offspring, instrumentalist Clora Bryant, a killer trumpeter in her own right. She plays “When It’s Sleepytime Down South,” a ballad she dedicates to Louis. Following is an interview clip of her describing the time she met Satchmo, who gave her a trumpet that she still owns.

Whipping up a fast-as-lightening banjo is Scotty Plummer (d. 1992 in a motorbike accident), who plays hardcore punk-speed Dixieland. The two instrumental tunes he strums, the standard “Waiting for the Robert E. Lee” and “The World is Waiting for the Sunrise,” almost sound like bumblebees surrounding the melody as his hand moves up and down so fast they’re a blur. He had quite the incredible technique.

Jazz-angel (sorry) Della Reese proves she’s more than an actress in a (gratefully gone) sappy television program, as she jazzes up and bops Irving Berlin’s “Blue Skies.” As fine as she is here, I enjoyed her second number, “The Man with a Horn,” a bluesy ballad accompanied by Hirt, much more. With “Horn,” she shows off more of her range and musical emotion.

Hirt finally does a lead with the chestnut “Bill Bailey,” joined by his quartet (stand-up bass, drum, piano), each of whom get a solo. After a brief film clip of Hirt describing his life and career, he actually sings on “Bourbon Street Paradise.” His voice is gravelly and raw, and sounds great to this style.

Playing a jellyroll associated with the likes of Scott Joplin and Fats Waller is Johnny Guarnieri (d. 1985), who is sort of the Carol Kaye (bassist of the famed Wrecking Crew) of the big band era, playing on thousands of recordings. Here he plays terrific versions of Joplin’s classic “Maple Leaf Rag” and Waller’s “Ain’t Misbehavin’.”

Where there is Dixieland, can “When the Saints Go Marching In” be far behind? Hirt and Woody Herman fulfill the necessity with a rousing rendition.

Bob Crosby (yes, the youngest brother of Bing; d. 1993) joins his old swing band, the Bobcats, for their big hits, “March of the Bobcats” and “Big Noise From Winnetka,” the latter which started as an improv way back when, before it was put to 78 rpm.

The married couple of Jim and Marsha Hession, aka The Hessions, follow a clip of Eubie Blake (who, like George Burns, died shortly after is 100th birthday). JIm plays a killer piano, and Marsha sings in a high, operatic voice. It’s quite lovely and she is able to reach four octaves, but at the same time I found it kind of disconcerting and forced (as operatic voices tend to be). They open with a lively version of Waller’s “This Joint is Jumpin’.”

Hirt is back with his band doing a jazz rendition of “Someday You’ll Be Sorry.” It’s a bit meandering in the way jazz can be, and it still swings. Again, everyone gets space to do their own thing.

At long last, Scatman Crothers (d. 1986) gets his chance. The man is more than a musician, he is a performer, and I’ve been a fan for a number of years (as I’ve stated in a previous review for this series). He plays with the audience for his comedic “The Gal Looks Good.” The song is more Harlem blues, and he shows off his amazing talent as he strums his guitar and, of course, scats.

Not to be confused with jazz musician Ted Buckner, jazz musician Teddy Buckner continues the Harlem-esque sound with the ballad “Struttin’ With some Barbeque,” which naturally leads into the swinging “Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone.” These songs would sound as comfortable in New Orleans as it would at the Cotton Club.

There is a full song clip, and rightfully so, of Fats Waller (d. 1943) performing his stride piano to his own “Honeysuckle Rose,” while a bevy of beauties lounge around him, Busby Berkeley bathing beauties style. Waller tended to lean towards comic, but he was highly talented as both a performer and writer. On the younger side relatively to the rest of this collection, and with some of the biggest hair (it was the ‘80s, y’know), is pianist Judy Carmichael. She plays a wild stride piano in a post-ragtime style, picking up on an instrumental version of Waller’s “Honeysuckle Rose” as the clip of him playing the same song ends. A joy to watch, indeed.

The New Orleans All-Star Jazz Band comes out and does the biggest jazz standard of the Roaring ‘20s, “Tiger Rag” (you would probably know it if you heard it). The way the song is played here, which is actually quite raucous, is based on the trombone as the central instrument, with Bobby Havens doing physical playing that is reminiscent more of Hendrix than Higginbotham. Quite smile-worthy

The last original artist up is Irma Thomas, who Hirt describes as “The Queen of New Orleans Soul.” She starts off singing her first recording from 1960, the humorous blues “(You Can Have My Husband But) Don’t Mess with My Man.” Her voice is deep, throaty, and honeyed (but not flinty). Hirt joins her in the second song, “Do You Know What it Means,” a love song to New Orleans, all the more poignant now, nearly 30 years later after Katrina, since there are film clips shown of the city shown as they sing that no longer exist.

For the finale, Hirt describes the how and why music at funerals in New Orleans is infamously played with a joyous tone. For the end, or “death” of the program, the whole band comes out again, and they perform “South Rampart Street Parade.”

Of all the collection of the American’s Music Legacy, this is by far the most spirited and joyous, and also with the largest number of people no longer with us. Am I seeing a correlation? No, but I am enjoying it while I can.

Friday, January 7, 2011

DVD Reviews: Two of the America’s Music Legacy Series, Part 3: Blues; Soul

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet


Part 3: This is just two of a series of six DVDs that have been released to promote a collection of television specials from the 1980s that highlight specific genres of music, with each disc focusing on a one at a time. Note that links to other performances are not present on these compilations.


America’s Music Legacy: Blues
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1982 / 2010
115 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com


There are so many subgenres of blues, such as Delta (mostly acoustic), Chicago (electric), Harlem (swing), and Kansas City/Memphis (R&B/R&R). This is sort of a gross definition, and there are many crossovers, but most blues has the same I-IV-V progression (e.g., C-F-G: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chord_progression) that instilled and enabled early rock and roll. As put by the host of this blues-focused show, Brock Peters, “Three basic chords, 12 basic measures.” The topics within the genre tend to be gender specific (“s/he done me wrong”), though money-related matters is a close second.

The collection here, which is comprised of two performance shows and clips edited together, easily flips among the many subgenres with ease, and starts strong with a short film of the late Bessie Smith (d. 1937). The musical action starts in full with Linda Hopkins performing “St. Louis Blues” (a completely different one than with which Louis Armstrong would have a hit), a boogie holler. She certainly has the voice to carry it off, as well.

Chicago-style gets a boost from one of its founders, as B.B. King just wails through “Payin’ the Cost to Be the Boss,” “How Blue Can You Get,” and “All Over Again.” These burners exemplify why he is held in such high respect, as he moans and growls the lyrics, wrings the guitar, and pounds the top of the instrument with his fists in emotional fits. He may have the blues, but he is a joy to watch.

Following a clip of Billie Holliday (d. 1959) is Leata Galloway, who sings “Fine and Mellow” and “Stormy Monday” in a similar Harlem chanteuse style. Not surprising as Galloway was born in Brooklyn and raised in Harlem. She also has an interesting body language, as she sometimes dips waaaaay down. On the second song, the Gerald Wiggins Band, which does the backing throughout, gets an opportunity to also shine.

Likewise, after a clip of Jimmy Rushing (1972), of the Count Basie Orchestra, Ernie Andrews does a Basie-big-band-swing-style “Ernie’s Blues.” He’s followed by alto saxer Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson (d. 1988), who performs the humorous and also self-named “Cleanhead Blues.”

Linda Hopkins returns for three songs after a short filmed interview with her discussing Bessie Smith. First up is “Born on a Friday,” in which she gets to make use of her powerful voice. Next, she has a duet with B.B. King on “Everyday I Have the Blues,” where she handles most of the singing and he does all the guitar. Last is another duet, this time with saxist Vi Redd, where she once again does “St. Louis Blues,” but this time it’s all her vocals, and Vi does some wild playing on her instrument.

Reminiscent of T. Bone Walker, Connie Carter “Pee Wee “Crayton (d. 1985) handles the standard “After Hours,” which is closer to rock and roll, or Tex-Mex. Of course, I enjoyed this immensely.

For the finale of the first part, all the artists come out for a jam of “Jammin’ the Blues,” with Hopkins on point.

Leading off the second half, also hosted by Brock Peters, is smooth-as-silk Joe Williams (d. 1999), who sings “Come Back” with a smattering of scat. This should come as no surprise as he was the vocalist for the Count Basie Orchestra for six years. He comes back later to do the equally silky “Tell Me Where to Scratch.”

My memory of actress Paula Kelly is from the film Sweet Charity (paired with Chita Rivera) and a memorable Playboy pictorial around the same time, when I was at an impressionable age. She proves she can sing with a perky (for blues) “Ain’t Nobody’s Business.” She performs in a sultry manner, and is obviously comfortable in her body as she moves around to the music.

A more nasal boogie blaster, along the lines of Nell Carter, is “Little” Esther Philips (d. 1984), with “Early in the Morn.” This a jazzy, nearly a-melodic and dissonant number, followed by the slower “Cherry Red.” Philips passed away soon after this from complications of drug abuse.

Brownie McGhee (incorrectly listed as Bobby McGee) is a solid Delta-style guitarist and singer who does the strong and wonderful “Life is a Gamble.” After him, unlisted in the credits, is the sole white performer, Addie Clement, previously of the all female rock band Fanny. She plays a Chicago electric style Willie Dixon cover of “I Think I Got the Blues” that reminds me of the likes of John Scofield.

Introduced as “the original Blues Brothers,” Buddy Guy (vox) and Junior Wells (guitar; d. 1998) flex their muscle through “Who’s Lovin’ You Tonight?” This is a more rockin’ vein of the blues, along the likes of Sam and Dave.

Dorothy Donegan (misspelled on the box!; d. 1998) plays a jellyroll boogie piano along the lines of Little Richard and Jerry Lee, except she has horns backing her. She absolutely rocks through “After Hours,” mixing in a bit of “Battle Hymn of the Republic” and “Bye, Bye Blackbird.” The way she plays sounds nothing short of controlled raucous; it’s great.

For the finale, Joe Williams and Esther Philips duet on “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down,” which has an improvised feel; it is a scorching ballad with some power moments.

The blues is feel-bad music that makes the listener feel good. Yes, it’s an oxymoron, but it certainly works here. There are some brilliant moments here, and none that hits a bad note or untrue to the genre.


* * *

America’s Music Legacy: Soul
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
95 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com


Soul is an emotional style of music that is poppier than the blues, is more melodic than disco, and generally has high emotional peaks. It took me a while to appreciate the form; it came when VHS was new, and I rented out a tape of live performances called The Soul Experience (there wasn’t as large a selection as would come later). I was blown away by a very subtle and moving solo Bill Withers doing his classic “Ain’t No Sunshine” (youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo; different than the tape), a song was I found irksome until that moment. With an epiphany, I suddenly found an appreciation for the form, and went back to watch James Brown do “Please, Please, Please” on the T.A.M.I. Show (youtube.com/watch?v=54y_XDKNxPg), and it was a whole different experience. Yeah, sometimes I’m a slow learner (and in the Brown example, so were the Rolling Stones, but that’s another story).

Appropriately, James Brown (d. 2006) opens up this program, introduced by host then-actor/now-minister Leon Isaac Kennedy. Brown starts off strong, of course, with “Rap Payback.” Definitely a dynamic performer, and even the band is in constant motion while they’re playing and interacting using call and response with Brown; there is solid drumming and horns to enforce the sound, as he slides into “Jam,” relying on simple repetitive rhythms, riding it for many minutes while never being boring. When he returns later for “The Man Understands,” the audience is on its feet and swaying; heck, so was I. The band member introducing him looks a lot like Rick James, and as is usual, there is someone in the entourage just to say “James Brown” over and over and over and over and… Vibrant stuff.

He is followed by Ben E. King, who rose to fame in the Drifters, and then had his own hits, including “Spanish Harlem,” which he opens with here. Kennedy precedes him with the personal descriptor of “Uptown R&B.” Before his second number, there is a brief interview with King where he describes recording “Spanish” with Phil Spector, and how it only took two takes. His sophomore song here is the crooner standard, “I Who Have Nothing,” which he infuses with soul via minor chords, without losing any of the song’s feel or emotion.

Kennedy then presents Mary Bond Davis as “The future of soul,” when in actuality she is more symbolic of the death of disco with “This is It.” In the early ‘80s, disco was (too) slowly fading into hip-hop (not much better), which was more R&B than soul (in my opinion), but it was the sound of the time. She has a good voice with some theatrical punch, which is appropriate considering she appeared often on the Broadway stage.

Atlantic Records signed Tyrone Davis (d. 2005), but with “Turn Back the Hands of Time,” a big hit for him, his sound could be considered Motown, with its Temptations vibe. His interview piece is about performing, as he sits on a couch weighed down in almost Mr. T levels of gold jewelry. He comes back later for a second tune, a sultry ballad that’s somewhere between Marvin Gaye and Barry White.

Between performers, Kennedy gives history lessons on soul, as is common of the hosts in this series, while also presenting clips. He states (reads) that soul started in 1954 with Brown vs. The Board of Education ruling, and then kick started by the likes of Ray Charles.

Maxine Nightingale starts off with “Lead Me On,” which shows she has the pipes, and then slows it down for the lovely ballad, “I Don’t Miss You At All.” Then, unfortunately, of course she resorts to her big disco hit, “Right Back Where We Started From” (one of the reasons why they invented 2x speed), even though she does a more soulful version of the tune than her original recording.

Along with her Pips, Gladys Knight takes over the stage in the first performance that can come close to the level of James Brown, but without all the (literal) sweat. She starts upbeat with “I Will Fight,” leading into her hit ballad, “You’re The Best Thing that Ever Happened to Me,” in that style that she has made her own. It is further exemplified by her next number, the outstanding “Midnight Train to Georgia,” which shows off the Pips a bit more in the return and call.

While recording at Sun around the time Elvis walked in, Rufus Thomas (Jr., d. 2001) shows with “Do the Push and Pull” that he has a sound that is similar in style to James Brown (as did Joe “I Gotcha” Tex, who passed away in 1982, shortly before this show was recorded: youtube.com/watch?v=zEYl8TtckjI&feature=related). Despite his age here, he is also fashionably bombastic like Brown, dressed in yellow cape, shorts (!), shirt, and knee-high high-heel boots. And then he drops the cape… His daughter, Stax Records artist Carla Thomas, shows up next with “I Like What You do to Me,” a borderline disco number. Her voice is in fine shape, but I wish she had done some of her earlier material, as “Gee Whiz,” a fine example of “northern soul.”

Jerry Butler, known as “The Ice Man” due to his cool and suave style, sings “Hey, Western Union Man.” He is similar to Ben E. King in presentation, but a bit more upbeat. Following him is Freda Payne, known especially for her “Band of Gold,” which she has been singing for nearly 15 years at the time of this taping, and just about 40 years now. She is apparently enjoying being on the stage and getting a chance to sing, as she has an underrated voice, but she also seems to have lost the meaning of the song. It is not a happy song despite its upbeat melody. Yet she’s all smiles and sings it with little emotional backing, which is kind of as heartbreaking as the song.

Speaking of glad to be there, Percy Sledge, who did the powerful “When a Man Loves a Woman,” which can still give me goosebumps, does not do that song, but rather “You Had to Be There.” His voice has a nasal quality, but remains solid. He also has an ear to ear grin throughout. While I prefer his blues, he carries off the song well.

Though he died in 1967, the film of Otis Redding doing an exciting soul-encased cover of the Stones’ “Satisfaction” shows why he is regarded enough to have a full song presented rather than just a clip.

To close the show, Gladys Knight and the Pips return to the stage for the upbeat “Save the Overtime,” which made it to No. 1 in the R&B charts. For her cover of Marvin Gaye’s “Heard It Through the Grapevine,” she starts and a number of the performers come back on stage to join in for a rousing finale.

As is common with this series, there are some songs that are listed that never made it past the DVD editing, in this case one by Tyrone Davis’s, Rufus Thomas’s “Walking the Dog,” Freda Payne’s “Bring the Boys Home,” and Gladys Knight’s “Neither One of Us,” all songs I would have genuinely liked to have heard.

Despite that, this collection is exciting (sans disco), and fun watch.

Friday, December 3, 2010

DVD Reviews: Two of the America’s Music Legacy Series: C+W; R+B

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet


Part 1: This is just two of a series of DVDs that have been released to promote a collection of television specials from the 1980s that highlight specific genres of music, with each disc focusing on a one at a time.

America’s Music Legacy: Country and Western
Directed by Gene Weed
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1981 / 2010
115 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

The program itself was originally titled Countrystyle. Considering the wide range covered, that seems pretty appropriate. This show, mounted at the Knotts Berry Farm Theater in California, is externally hosted (he’s filmed at various park spots and then spliced inbetween) by Gene Weed (d. 1999), who did the same honors for the short-lived television series Shiveree, and was director for ABC’s coverage of Live Aid (he was part of Dick Clark’s company).

Starting with the young and fresh, the show opens with Sylvia (Kirby), who is one of the first “new country” artists (similarly along the lines of Juice Newton), when country starting becoming as much about pop music. She performs two of her early hits (well, I guess then-current), starting with “Drifter,” which went to No. 1 on the country charts. She follows up with the really awful “The Matador,” a pandering audience sing-along mess, which is due more to the song than the singer. However, she is apparently enjoying herself up on stage, though now nearly 30 years later, she’s a life coach rather than a performer. Heck, this disk did not even list her in the bios section!

The first to unofficially represent the ‘70s period, the last bastion before the rise of “country pop,” is Razzy Bailey, whose style reminds me of the likes of Larry Gatlin, with “Lovin’ Up a Storm” and “She Left Love All Over Me.” He also does the classic “Nightlife,” a Willie Nelson boogie blues ballad.

Eddie Dean (d. 1991) has been around since the ‘30s, first making appearances singing in Roy Rogers westerns and the like. He certainly stands out in his bright yellow two-piece outfit. I swear, C+W musicians have the loudest clothes of all music genres, and I won’t even go into the tassels (or tzitzit, as my parent may have called them). Anyway, Dean sings some songs he has been known for, such as the traditional cowboy tune from yon, “Wagon Wheels” (which has a similar feel to “Tumbling Tumbleweeds”). He follows this with the (I’m) cheatin’ hit of his, “One Has My Name (One Has My Heart)”, written by Dean and his wife. This song is so classic and timeless. Then there’s another Dean-penned number, Hillbilly Heaven,” which is a bluegrass ballad that reminds me in theme of the Righteous Brothers’ (worst) song, “Rock and Roll Heaven.” It takes us on a name dropping tour of all the people in hillbilly music that died, and even those to follow! Dean is definitely ol’ time country, and is fun to watch.

What can one say about Doug Kershaw, the “Ragin’ Cajun”? He is pure entertainer, with his fiddle in hand (but rarely under neck); he plays nothing but toe tappin’, foot stompin’, yeeee-haaaaaw Cajun-style bluegrass. Considering the way he handles the fiddle, could one call him the Hendrix of the instrument? Well, maybe that’s overstepping, but the cat can play. He performs two of his big hits, “Diggy Diggy Hi, Diggy Diggy Low” and “Louisiana Man,” as well as Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya.” Or should I say, of course he does that song, considering he comes from the bayou (his dad was an alligator hunter). He is obviously having fun, with the audience, about the previous performers, with the cameras, and especially the music. He is quite comfortable dancing around the stage while playing, and it’s catching.

Sadly, one of the few real disappointments on this collection is the wonderful Clara Ann Fowler, better known as (Miss) Patti Page. Oh, the woman can sing, and even though her big hit, “Tennessee Waltz” was recorded in 1950, she still has the pipes that made her famous, without missing a note. Great voice. The problem for me is the presentation. He puts absolutely no soul into most of the songs, such as Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again,” “Please Release Me” (made famous in the US by Englebert Humperdink), and a bizarre cover of John Hartford’s “Gentle on My Mind,” where she takes the position of the woman he left behind, presenting it in a classic hetero-normative stance (yes, I know C+W is conservative, but…). She sings these songs both bouncy and flouncy, like she’s barely present, or as a lounge singer may. Absolutely no stage presence at all. However! She does a pretty good job on a new song for her at the time, “No Aces,” and actually has a nice tenderness for her classic “Waltz.”

Moe Bandy started out in the rodeo, and after moving into music it’s a topic he still comes back to often. In fact, his first big hit, played here, is “Bandy the Rodeo Clown.” He also does the like-minded “It’s a Cheatin’ Situation” and “Cowboys Ain’t Supposed to Cry,” both of which are rodeo related. His milieu is the weepy storyline of heartbreak and sadness, and he continues that theme with “Take Me Back to Yesterday Once More” (why do C+W titles tend to be so long?). His music has lots of steel-string wah-wah.

The next performer is the only person who could comfortably fit on most DVD categories in this series, without changing his material all that much. Jerry Lee Lewis moved comfortably into C+W and gospel after his rock and roll career was cut short in 1959, with his influence felt both from and to the varied genres. And, as always, he does not hold back. Whether blasting through the rock and roll boogie of “I’m Rockin’ My Life Away” and “Great Balls of Fire,” or the more traditional bluegrass boogie of “I’m Walkin’ at the End of the Road” and “I Trusted in You” (the flipside of the “Great Balls” 45), he covers all the bases. It’s also interesting that he invokes himself in third person in nearly every song. Do I really need to tell you ‘bout the Killer, one of the more exciting entertainers in the last 50 years?

Once in the rock band Fire and Ice, Terry Gregory brings that energy to country (well, new country) with the silly “Marie LaVoe” (a swamp witch who likes to make “another man done gone”). She moves around the stage, strutin’ and squattin’ as if she was still rockin’, but it definitely works for her. Her second song, “Can’t Say Goodbye,” is a break-up ballad that’s more pop than country. She is nicely expressive in her presence, and has a decent voice.

He’s now a legend (his list of awards in the bio area go on for pages), and it’s clear to see why. Ricky Skaggs is the final new performer here, and he covers a bunch of his traditional-influenced country crooning with the (again) heartbreakers “Get Your Heart Broke,” “You May See Me Walking,” and “I’m Cryin’ My Heart Out Over You.” Skaggs has been a major fixture in both the country and rock (e.g., the White Stripes, Bruce Hornsby) scene for decades now.

For some reason, we return to Terry Gregory, though it’s obvious this clip is actually from the earlier set, where she covers Tammy Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man.” Terry does have a good voice and charm, but she is no match for Wynette’s version, when it comes to pacing, intonation and inflection.

And then, again, there is Jerry Lee (also from the earlier set), where he brings down the house with the history of rock’n’roll, covering Chuck Berry’s “Memphis, Tennessee,” his own “A Whole Lot of Shakin’ Goin’ On,” and as an encore, an abbreviation of Little Richard’s “Good Golly Miss Molly.”

Covering traditional, neo-traditional, bluegrass, Cajun, and new country, among others, this wide covering makes this a nicely handled package.
[see video at end of blog]

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America’s Music Legacy: Rhythm + Blues
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
95 minutes, USD $16.95
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Qleap.co.uk
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This was a potentially very scary DVD for me to watch. I love early R+B, but from 1974 through 1985 (aka the dreaded disco years), R+B became a nightmare (ass it would again with the advent of hip-hop and rap). Fortunately, most of what is covered here is from the earlier incarnations of the sound, which it broke off from jazz in the 1940s. Perhaps that explains why many of the people here have passed on since its airing.

This release is actually two separate television shows (specials?), both taking place in a studio made to look like an intimate club (a perfect setting for this style). The first is hosted by actor Brock Peters (d. 2005), who has a deep, rich speaking voice (like James Earl Jones). Between musical acts he explains the history of Rhythm and Blues in short spurts, and one old film clip of Slim Gaillard. He is thankfully non-obtrusive, and his presence is actually a nice pace-setter.

The first artist is Brook Benton (d. 1988), who sings the metaphoric tune, “Boll Weevil” (about trying to find a home), and a bluesy “Thank You Pretty Baby.” Let me add right here, that because these are two shows pasted together, to save time they edited out some songs, which remain listed on the cover; this quite frustrating. Benton’s “Rainy Night in Georgia” is among those; a far superior tune to “Boll Weevil,” it is not here. Surely there was enough time to put this on, since the cover states this is two hours, and it’s actually 25 minutes shy of that.

He is followed by the ever-lovable native of Terre Haute, IN, Ben Scatman Crothers (d. 1986), of whom I’ve been a fan for years. You may know some of his acting work, such as the mailman on Chico and the Man, the guy who gets killed by Jack Nicholson in the last reel of The Shining, and the title character voice of Hong Kong Phooey, but he’s been a musician (starting as a drummer) since the 1920s, eventually getting into guitar and said scat singing. Strumming a guitar uke style, he is obviously having fun with a rambunctious “Ain’t She Sweet,” the slow ballad “Mean Dog Blues” (which he co-wrote), and the Louis Armstrong styled “End of the Road.” Scatman is always a joy to watch, even much younger as a drummer in the above-mentioned Gaillard clip.

Moving up to Motown, Mary Wells (d. 1992), one of the first artists to have a hit on the label and helped define the sound. She does her classic Smokey Robinson-penned “My Guy,” and then a disco-ized “Gigolo” (this seems to be a kind of ‘80s trend: when I saw Martha Reeves play at Zappaz in Brooklyn during this period, she did the same treatment for “Dancing in the Streets”). I was not happy, especially since her “Two Lovers” is listed by not presented.

After that disco terror, there came the polar opposite style in the form of O.C. Smith (d. 2001), who had a big hit with “Little Green Apples” (1968 song of the year). I would be hard pressed to call this R+B, but more like lame pop. While there is a slight pick-up with “Stormy Monday,” in which the band easily outshines Smith, he drags it right back down with the turgid Bobby Russell-penned “Honey (I Miss You)” (that Bobby Goldsboro had a bigger hit with, for some reason, perhaps a deal with the devil). Ironically, Russell also wrote “Little Green Apples.” Smith’s R+B-lite is not exactly exciting performing, rather looking like he phoned it in. Throughout, I kept thinking that it’s a shame they didn’t get Bill Withers to do “Ain’t No Sunshine,” a much better artist and song in the contemporary R+B genre.

There is a rise in spirit, though, when Sam Moore hits the stage. His version of “Soul Man” is as exciting as ever, even without Dave Prater. It’s definitely rousing, and a fine way to end the first program (though “I’ve Been Loving You” and “Hold On, I’m Coming” are, again, listed but not shown).

Without any announcement, the second program is started by a jump cut, and we are introduced to its host, Billy Eckstine (d. 1993), who, like Brock Peters, gives a bit of a history lesson between artists, showing a few b+w clips such as Louis Jordan and Amos Milburn. A singing contemporary of Sinatra, Eckstine actually gave blue eyes a close competitor, especially among the African-American demographic.

Eckstine starts out with a solid proto-rocker, “Little Mama,” the kind of song Elvis would take and add in his own spin. This only makes sense, as the first guest is Ruth Brown (d. 2006). There are some who will know her from her appearance in the original Hairspray film, but she is considered one the first queens of rock and roll (though I would place her in the proto- area as well). She is so much fun to watch as she careens through her 1953 “5-10-15 More” and “Teardrops From My Eyes.” And as joyous as it is to see someone this present in their music, she is obviously having a blast as well.

To exemplify soul, they call in “the fifth Beatle,” Billy Preston. Like Brown, he is obviously having a good time, setting proverbial fire to his two-level keyboard electric organ. He starts off with a lengthy, raucous cover of the Gershwin brothers’ “Summertime” (from Porgy and Bess). While most of it is an instrumental, he jumps in about half-way through and plays the piece as “Bach would play it,” and then as Ray Charles would, including a vocal impression. Then he really gets down and goes through one of his bigger hits, “Will It Go Round in Circles.” Even I was singing along on parts (“…Let the bad guy win / Once in a while!”).

Getting back to more a traditional sound, Gloria Lynne sings the torchy “I Wish You Love,” and is then joined by Eckstine for a jazzy “Call Me Irresponsible,” a 1962 standard. While her voice is a bit rough in spots, one can see where she was coming from, and admire her work.

And speaking of irresponsible, the last act is Sheer Delight, a ‘80s post-disco girl group performing “Getting to the Good Part.” Solid top-10 schlock, this type of material was handled so much better by the likes of Lady Flash. This is one time when I was just fine with a couple of songs that were listed on the cover but not performed.

To close the show, Eckstine commanders the stage, and performs Duke Ellington’s “Mr. Saturday Night” (which has the line “Don’t get around much anymore”), “In My Solitude,” and “I’m Beginning to See the Light.” He finishes up with the slow boogie blues of “Jelly Jelly Blues.”

So, mostly my fears were unwarranted, and this was actually a really nice collection. Yeah, there’s more I would have liked to see, such as some of the artists I’ve mentioned, and others, such as Aretha, James Brown, and Curtis Mayfield, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they show up on a later part of this collection.