Archive Review: Ray Bonneville’s Goin’ By Feel (2007)

Born in Canada, but raised in America, singer/songwriter and self-professed “blues poet” Ray Bonneville considers himself to be a “North American.” The itinerant musician has traveled constantly throughout the three decades of his career, from Boston to Seattle, from Arkansas to Alaska. Yet, Bonneville will be the first to tell you that no location has been more influential to his music than the city of New Orleans. Listening to Bonneville’s Goin’ By Feel, it’s easy to hear his musical and spiritual connection to the Crescent City.

The Sound of New Orleans

Although New Orleans has a grand tradition in jazz music, the city also has a rich heritage in the blues. After all, the mighty Mississippi River runs south from the Delta, through the city, and into the Gulf of Mexico. Many Delta bluesmen made their way down the river through the years and landed in New Orleans, bringing their country blues style and sound to “The Big Easy,” mixing it up with the city’s native jazz, Cajun, and ragtime styles.

More than anything else, however, the sound of New Orleans is that of rhythm. Most of the city’s music incorporates a distinctive rhythmic pattern of one sort or another, whether it’s the rhythms of a brassy jazz band or Professor Longhair’s raucous piano pounding. Most importantly, however, is the rhythm of slowness…it’s hot in New Orleans in the summertime, and humid, too, and nobody is in a big hurry to get anywhere or do anything. There’s a slower pace to the sounds of New Orleans, one that you grow, as a listener, to appreciate over time.

Ray Bonneville’s Goin’ By Feel

If Ray Bonneville has taken anything in the way of influence from New Orleans, it’s the city’s languid feel. With Goin’ By Feel, Bonneville’s sixth album, the singer and producer Gurf Morlix have managed to capture the sound of kudzu growing and cypress creaking. The songs here are saltwater-drenched, with an undeniable bluesy vibe that is reinforced by Bonneville’s soulful, gruff vocals and rich six-string pickin’. This is music as atmospheric as the fog on a Louisiana swamp at daybreak, and performed with a casual, laid-back style that is in no hurry towards its destination.

Bonneville is a natural-born storyteller, and beneath the gorgeous music on Goin’ By Feel is a raft of brilliant story-songs. An erudite songwriter with one foot in the South’s literary tradition and the other firmly planted in the narrative style of the blues, Bonneville conjures up characters and situations out of whole cloth with his vivid imagery and finely-crafted use of the language. His lyrics, when combined with the wide, loping groove of the music, create an almost fictional sense of space.

Not that Bonneville is afraid to ramp it up a bit when necessary. “What Katy Did” builds on spry rhythms with quick, dark-hued vocals and sparse, elegant fretwork. A love letter, of sorts, to New Orleans, “I Am the Big Easy” offers clever lyrics that tie together the city’s cultural wealth with the tragedy of Hurrican Katrina. By contrast, the stark “Carry the Fallen,” is a brilliant anti-war song that lyrically brings home the cost of the war in human terms.   

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

 
A gifted songwriter and skilled guitarist, Ray Bonneville brings the expansive worldview created by his travels to every word he writes and each note he plays. Incorporating elements of folk, country, soul, and blues into his distinctive sound, Bonneville weaves pure magic here with his intricate story-songs. Goin’ By Feel is a thoughtful, intelligent work of immense beauty, sincerity, and honesty. This isn’t your usual blues music, but then Ray Bonneville isn’t your average blues musician, either. (Red House Records, released April 16th, 2007)

Buy the CD from Amazon: Ray Bonneville’s Goin’ By Feel

Archive Review: Modern English’s Life In The Gladhouse 1980-1984 (2001)

It’s hard for a pop band to be all things to all people, and most satisfy their creative egos by merely finding a singular groove and flogging it to death. Modern English were one of the few outfits who managed to blend together many disparate influences – punk roots, new wave sensibilities, Goth ambiance, and industrial attitude – into creating an entirely unique and highly experimental body of music. Best known for their infectious 1982 hit “I Melt With You,” which has become a staple on classic rock radio, Modern English had an identity beyond MTV and movie soundtracks.

Life In The Gladhouse 1980-1984 presents Modern English in the band’s halcyon days, warts, pretensions, and all, and the collection of album tracks and ‘A’-side singles shows a band at least a decade ahead of their time. Masterfully blending the aforementioned musical styles and influences, Modern English created songs that were atmospheric, emotional, and intelligent. The band has much more in common with obvious creative predecessors like Roxy Music than with the legion of new wave bands that glutted MTV in the early ‘80s. Modern English sculpted sound and abstract lyrics in the creation of musical art that sounds as fresh and exciting today as it did twenty years ago. If you’re looking for a new musical thrill, want to hear something that is both familiar and yet intellectually challenging, look no further than Life In The Gladhouse 1980-1984. If you know nothing more of Modern English than “I Melt With You,” prepare to have your conceptions gladly shattered. (Beggar’s Banquet/4AD, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: American Hi-Fi’s American Hi-Fi (2001)

Major record labels, being the craven, trend-mongering corporate creatures that they are, tend to sign artists that sound and look a lot like whatever’s at the top of the charts at the moment. Sexy teen cutie Britney Spears hits numero uno with a sultry pop song – sign Mandy Moore and Jessica Simpson! Teenage boys are lining up to throw down their shekels for passive hard rock from Creed – put out CDs by Papa Roach and Three Walls Down. The predictable nature of this industry inclination makes the discovery of something even slightly out-of-the-ordinary, like American Hi-Fi, all that much more satisfying.

With their self-titled debut, American Hi-Fi come on gangbusters like a modern-era Cheap Trick, all meaty hooks and monster rhythms underlining what is, at its core, good old-fashioned pop/rock. With their roots in the 1960s and their souls in the hard rocking ‘90s, American Hi-Fi crank out the jams with energy and elan, the band backing vocalist Stacy Jones’ wonderfully intelligent lyrics with radio-ready riffage and ready-for-prime time personality. Just “Flavour of the Weak” itself is a textbook example of pop/rock tuneage, the song’s teen protagonist waxing eloquent about the object of his affections who has fallen for another guy. Of course, she can’t see that she’s just a short time fling for the other guy and this poor heartbroken slob would offer his undying devotion just to be with her for a little while. It’s classic rock song territory here, folks, delivered here in an entirely refreshing and highly rocking manner.

There are other great cuts on American Hi-Fi, such as “I’m A Fool,” another unrequited love song with a recurring, underlying razor-sharp guitar line, or maybe the crashingly loud, anger-filled “My Only Enemy” will be more to your liking. You’ll hear a bunch o’ musical influences in these 13 songs, from the aforementioned Cheap Trick and obvious Beatlesque touches to elements of punk and grunge. A few songs are even possessed by the spirit of Kurt Cobain, all angst-like and feedback ridden. It’s an invigorating mix of styles, all filtered through a pair of screaming guitars and a solid rhythm section with appropriately snotty vocals. If you want an album that rocks as hard as any of the lesser poseurs on the charts these days but tips its hat to 40-plus years of rock history, take a chance on American Hi-Fi. The Rev sez “check it out!” (Island/Def Jam Records, released February 27th, 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Rare Earth’s The Best Of Rare Earth, The Millennium Collection (2001)

They might have well been the funkiest bunch o’ white boys to come out of the Motor City, kicking out the jams with a hybrid of Motown soul and hard rock ‘n’ roll. Much like Rodney Dangerfield, however, Rare Earth never gets any respect. Critics trashed them, the record buying public forgot them shortly after the last notes of their handful of hits had rung and, well, quite frankly, history hasn’t looked down favorably on the band. The Best of Rare Earth, a 7-track compilation released from the Motown vaults as part of the “20th Century Masters Millennium Collection” proves that these guys were ahead of their time by almost two decades.

Although they weren’t the first funkmeisters to mix create rock ‘n’ roll with R & B roots in the ‘60s – hometown heroes the MC5 did it a couple of years earlier – Rare Earth had greater success with the sound. Cuts like “Get Ready,” “Hey Big Brother” and “I Just Want To Celebrate” proved to be large hits for a relatively undistinguished bunch of players, and the songs hold up well even after thirty years. Rare Earth foreshadowed the jam bands of the ‘90s with extended instrumental passages filled to the brim with funky rhythms, rock riffs and jazzy interludes that stretched three-minute pop songs into 15- or 20-minute compositions. Sometimes tedious, sometimes exhilarating, it was nonetheless unique.

At their best, Rare Earth exemplified the sort of musical experimentation that made the late 1960s/early 1970s an exciting time for music. Anything might happen, with adventuresome bands throwing elements of country, blues, jazz, and R & B music on top of their basic roots rock sound. When they were good – as on the handful of hit singles featured on The Best of Rare Earth – the band was very good. Honestly, however, those moments were few and far between. Rare Earth’s more typical fare consisted of hackneyed R & B covers (like their slaughtering of Ray Charles’ classic “What’d I Say”), which is what earned them their reputation with critics and historians. For those listeners wanting a taste of one of rock music’s more obscure bands, I’d heartily recommend The Best of Rare Earth as a low-cost sampler that features the four big hits, which is all anyone really wants anyway... (Motown Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Bill Neely’s Texas Law & Justice (2001)

One of the true overlooked treasures of American roots music, songwriter Bill Neely toiled away in obscurity for decades, performing a distinctive style of “hillbilly blues” that incorporates country, blues, and folk traditions in creating an entirely unique sound. The son of a Texas sharecropper, Neely came to music through the influence of his mother, a Nashville native who played guitar, piano and accordion. It was a meeting with the legendary Jimmie Rodgers, however, that sealed Neely’s fate. The famous “Blue Yodeler” taught the youngster how to make a C chord on the guitar, a story retold by Neely’s with his classic song “On A Blackland Farm.”

Bill Neely’s Texas Law & Justice

Quitting school at the tender age of fourteen, Neely wandered the country, riding the rails and making money where he could. He worked the mines and the fields, spent time in the Army during WWII and the Korean War, later working as a cook and as a carpenter. Twenty years later, Neely settled down in Texas with a family and a trade, writing songs based on his experience and travels. During the 1960s, he became part of Austin’s early music scene, playing in local clubs both solo and with folks like Janis Joplin, Tracy Nelson, and the great Mance Lipscomb. When Neely died in 1990 of leukemia at the age of 74, he had been playing guitar for 60 years and writing his own songs for over 40 years. Yet Neely only recorded one album, On A Blackland Farm, reissued here on CD with several “bonus” tracks as Texas Law & Justice.

All of this background on Neely is necessary to understand the man who crafted the honest and authentic music preserved on disc by Texas Law & Justice. While great country blues artists like Mississippi Fred McDowell and Lightnin’ Hopkins enjoyed significant careers late in life, Neely remained largely unknown during the same time period. Yet I can hear echoes of Neely’s distinctive guitar style and lyrical abilities in such Texas troubadours as Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark, acclaimed masters of the form. Songs like “A Soldier’s Thoughts” and “Crying the Blues Over You” are masterpieces of hillbilly blues, while the vivid imagery of “Skid Row” underlines an intelligent tale of rural innocence lost in the big city.

“Satan’s Burning Hell” is a gospel-tinged gem and “Blues On Ellem” is a Texas-style blues tune. “Never Left the Lone Star State” is a wonderful road trip through Neely’s memories while the two instrumentals included on Texas Law & Justice are inspired raves that showcase Neely’s not inconsiderable six-string skills. The one song here not written by Neely, but rather penned by a relative in 1930 – the haunting title cut “Texas Law And Justice” – is performed with great passion and energy and is all the more chilling considering the state’s dismal record of state-sanctioned executions.
    

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Too raw and realistic by today’s country music standards, Bill Neely nevertheless wrote songs of enduring life and spirit, infusing them with humor and tempered by years of hard-won experience. Artistically, I’d rank Neely as the equivalent of great bluesmen like Mississippi John Hurt and Big Bill Broonzy. That Neely’s talents remain a secret is an artistic crime, one that might be remedied by the CD release of Texas Law & Justice. With a sound that would appeal to fans of both country blues and alt-country music, Bill Neely is ripe for rediscovery. (Arhoolie Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Peter Green Splinter Group’s Time Traders (2001)

Eric Clapton is considered by the unwashed masses both in the U.S. and the U.K. to be the greatest British blues guitarist to ever ply his trade in the public eye. I won’t go into the reasons why this is a misguided perspective, instead I’ll offer up alternative candidates like Gary Moore, Mick Taylor, or Kim Simmonds of Savoy Brown (blooze-rock great Rory Gallagher is disqualified from this contest ‘cause he was Irish, not British).

One name that is inevitably linked to Clapton’s, tarnishing his accomplishments, is that of Peter Green, the great guitarist and Clapton’s artistic shadow. Both Green and Clapton made their bones at roughly the same time, Green replacing old “Slowhand” in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers when the popular guitar god left to form Cream. Green found greater fame and fortune after founding Fleetwood Mac in 1967 with John McVie and Mick Fleetwood, the earliest incarnation of that band a blues powerhouse that opened the door for later blooze-rock punters like Savoy Brown, Ten Years After and Foghat.

Peter Green Splinter Group’s Time Traders

By 1970, psychedelic drugs and constant touring had ravaged Green’s mind, the guitarist quitting Fleetwood Mac to pursue religion, poverty, and anonymity. Clapton’s own struggle with heroin would result in one recorded masterpiece – the classic Layla album – before the “clean and sober” legend ran out of steam. Green lived like a hermit for much of the 1970s and ‘80s, later emerging with guitar in hand during the mid-‘90s to jump-start a career derailed by drugs and mental illness. Clapton spent the same time period embarrassing himself by releasing album after lukewarm album. For better than 25 years now, Clapton has been trading on his efforts during the ‘60s, showing glimpses of his former glory only when challenged in the studio by strong axemen like Duane Allman, Robert Cray, or B.B. King.    

We’ll never know what might have happened if Peter Green had remained a distinctive creative force during the 1970s and onward. By mid-decade, the blues had fallen out of favor with fans in the face of the punk onslaught, only to be rediscovered with the popularity of artists like the Fabulous Thunderbirds and Stevie Ray Vaughan in the 1980s. Maybe Green would have released feeble pop albums like his better-known contemporary, but after listening to Time Traders, I have my doubts. Greenie is a bluesman at heart, and on this sixth album of his extended comeback, capably assisted by his friends Splinter Group, Green makes a strong case for his own place in the rock ‘n’ roll history books.

Chicago Blues By Way of London

A better album, in my mind, than last year’s platinum-selling Clapton/B.B. King collaboration Riding With The King, Green’s Time Traders offers up a healthy dose of Chicago blues-by-way-of-London. Heavily influenced by bluesmen like Otis Rush and Muddy Waters and guitarists like B.B. King and Freddie King, Green brings a unique perspective to the legacy of these artists, throwing in elements of British jazz and big band dance sounds to the guitar-driven blues practiced by his idols. A lot of the credit for Green’s recreation can be given to Splinter Group guitarist Nigel Watson and keyboardist Roger Cotton, both of whom write the songs and coax wonderful six-string performances out of the reticent six-string wizard Green.

Time Traders is a wonderfully eclectic collection, carefully blending traditionally-oriented blues material like the mournful “Feeling Good” and “Time Keeps Slipping Away” with R&B-tinged material like the soulful “Real World” and the funky “Until the Well Runs Dry.” African rhythms permeate the upbeat “Wild Dogs” while a heavy, throbbing bass line underlines the somber, hypnotic “Uganda Woman.” Former Green acolyte Snowy White pitches in on a revisiting of Fleetwood Mac’s instrumental “Underway.” Green’s vocals across the album are appropriately world-weary, but his instrumental contributions ring clear as a bell, melding tone and texture to create breathtaking guitar passages that are refreshingly original. Watson’s six-string rhythms are rock steady, his vocals more expressive than Green’s but oddly similar in sound and intonation. Splinter Group’s rhythm section is tight in a way that only chemistry can explain, the group building a magnificent wall of sound upon with vocals and guitar are embroidered.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Time Traders is an inspiring collection of songs, a powerful showcase for Green’s talents and a hint of what might have been had Green pursued music during those “lost” years. He may not enjoy the name recognition or commercial endorsements of his colleague Clapton, but a strong argument can be made for Green’s inclusion among the giants of blues guitar. (Blue Storm Music, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

 

Archive Review: The Fabulous Thunderbirds’ Live (2001)

An institution among American blues-rockers, the Fabulous Thunderbirds have undergone a number of changes during a quarter-century long career, not all of them positive or encouraging. With the release of this energetic live album, however, Kim Wilson and his blues posse seem to be back on track with a high-octane “greatest hits” set that revisits old T-Birds classics as well as outlines a potential roadmap for the band’s future.

Live was recorded at a special event in February 2000, a private party of 200 friends and fans on hand to hear the band make history with their “This Night In L.A.” internet broadcast. The show was captured as one of the first high-resolution multi-track recordings made of a live performance, and the quality shows in the CD version offered on Live (the show is also available on DVD). The material chosen by the Thunderbirds for this broadcast includes the usual mix of guitar-driven Texas blues and soul-infused R&B tunes. The band throws out inspired covers like the rollicking “My Babe” and the potent “The Things I Used To Do” alongside choice originals such as the hit “Tuff Enough” and “I Believe I’m In Love.” Wilson’s baritone vocals always hit the mark and guitarist “Kid” Ramos stands tall with stellar leads that evoke memories of his predecessors Jimmie Vaughan and Duke Robillard while retaining an original character and identity.

Live is an infectious collection of songs, a 90-mph romp across the blooze-rock landscape that will leave the listener breathless and thirsting for more. The Fabulous Thunderbirds have long been a favorite on the performance circuit, their reputation built on muscular, dynamic live sets and bandleader Wilson’s soulful selection of material. The Live CD lives up to and furthers the T-Birds’ reputation as one of the best bands you’ll ever see perform onstage. (CMC International, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Dead Kennedys’ Mutiny On the Bay (2001)

The Dead Kennedys never released a live album during their brief yet notorious career as America’s favorite hardcore bad boys. The legendary punk outfit’s incendiary live performances have nevertheless been well represented by a handful of bootleg albums and videos, the best of which is probably Jello’s Revenge (Armed Response Records), culled from San Francisco club shows in 1979 and 1985. Mutiny On the Bay is the first “authorized” DK live disc, part of Manifesto’s reissuing of the Dead Kennedys’ catalog under the aegis of band members East Bay Ray, D.H. Peligro, and Klaus Flouride and against the wishes of vocalist/songwriter Jello Biafra, who has disavowed the reissues.  

Dead Kennedys’ Mutiny On the Bay

Mutiny On the Bay presents not a single entire performance but rather pieces of four different shows that date from 1982 and 1986. The original soundboard tapes have been digitally remastered but manage to retain a fair degree of their original energy and grunge. I hate to disagree with my old buddy Jello, who has publicly dissed Mutiny On the Bay, but this is a hell of a collection. A veritable “who’s who” of DK’s greatest hits, this fourteen song set offers those of us who never got to witness the band live a taste of what bootleg videos only hinted at.

Almost all the great DK songs are here, from “Police Truck” and “Kill the Poor” to “Hell Nation” and “MTV – Get Off the Air.” The energy in these tracks is undeniable; Biafra’s warbling, operatic vocals jumping out of the speakers above East Bay Ray’s slashing six-string work. One of the band’s signature songs, “Holiday In Cambodia,” offers some fiery fretwork courtesy of East Bay Ray while the Flouride/Peligro rhythmic assault that opens “California Uber Alles” provides powerful punctuation to Biafra’s angry vocals. The production seamlessly stitches together the performances; often tying songs together with Biafra’s onstage comments and smoothing out the rough edges so that the entire collection sounds like one lengthy performance. Perhaps some of the spontaneity is lost in this digital translation, but the quality of these performances shine through nonetheless and there is plenty of feedback and stage noise present for the purist.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

There are some good Dead Kennedys’ bootlegs still circulating around in trading circles, but Mutiny On The Bay puts most, if not all of them to shame. If all you know of the Dead Kennedys is their reputation, then Mutiny On The Bay, coupled with the band’s incredible debut, Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables, are perfect introductions to the band’s legacy. Let’s hope that Manifesto has some other live material of this quality stashed away in the vault for future release. The Dead Kennedys were one of the most influential hardcore punk bands of the 1980s; their importance based on live performances like those captured by Mutiny On The Bay. Let’s hear some more! (Manifesto Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Mad For The Racket’s The Racketeers (2001)

Wayne Kramer is a survivor in every sense of the word. From the legendary MC5 in the 1960s through collaborations with Mick Farren (The Deviants), Deniz Tek (Radio Birdman), and Johnny Thunders in the 1980s and ‘90s to Mad For The Racket, his new project, Kramer has enjoyed a lengthy and impressive music career. If most of his almost forty years in the biz seem to have been spent at odds with the establishment, that’s their problem, not his. As Kramer enters his fifth decade as an artist and musician, he does so with a new CD, a new label, and some old friends.

Mad For The Racket’s The Racketeers

Primarily a collaboration between Kramer and former Damned/Lords of the New Church axeman Brian James, Mad For The Racket also includes the instrumental contributions of Blondie drummer Clem Burke and former Guns ‘N’ Roses bassist Duff McKagan. Stewart Copeland sits behind the kit for a song or two, as does longtime Kramer drummer Brock Avery. The Racketeers is a guitar showcase, however, and in spite of the impressive credentials of the various rhythm-makers, it is the slash-and-burn dueling six-strings of Kramer and James that dominate the proceedings. Swapping red-hot riffs and vocal duties, much like Kramer did with Tek on the excellent Dodge Main CD, the two guitarists are similar enough stylists to make these songs work. They differ enough in their approach, however, that they manage to create some live-wire tension in the grooves.

Wayne Kramer/MC5

The sound cranked out by Mad For The Racket is standard hardcore roots rock, filled with razor-sharp ribbons of six-string work, thundering rhythms, and old school punk attitude. The material here is not that dissimilar from that which Kramer kicked out on a trio of studio albums for Epitaph, overlooked classics that showcased his vastly underrated guitar style and ever-maturing songwriting skills. On The Racketeers, Kramer and James share the songwriting duties, sometimes resulting in a dud like the heavy-handed “Prisoner of Hope,” with Kramer’s over-the-top vocal histrionics mangling hackneyed lyrics. Kramer has done better on his own with similarly themed material. More often than not, however, the pair has created winners like the dark, disturbing “Tell A Lie,” the seedy “Czar of Poisonville” or the blazing “Chewed Down To the Bone.”

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Kramer’s vocals are always adequate, unique, and easily identifiable, flawed but forceful. James’ pipes are weaker but meet the challenge of the material, sometimes sounding like former bandmate Stiv Bators; other times – as on the lively “I Want It” – James sounds like a young Iggy Pop. Both play the guitar like maniacs, loco mosquitoes hell-bent on tearing down the walls with the sound of their axes alone. Together, the two grizzled rock ‘n’ roll veterans have created an entertaining and hard-rocking collection of songs, an album that showcases their strengths and furthers their already considerable legacies. The Racketeers is the sound of punk rock entering middle age, and for Wayne Kramer and Brian James, they refuse to go quietly into that good night. (MuscleTone Records, released 2001)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine