Rockie's Riccasha

The dapper Mr. Charles at Jazzfest 2008
(photo by Dan Phillips)

Although I missed Rockie Charles' performance at this year's Ponderosa Stomp, I caught him on the first Saturday of Jazzfest, playing in the Blues Tent. Sitting there soaking it in (and prior to actually getting soaked in an afternoon storm), I remembered I had wanted to feature his first single here, and stuck a mental "Post-It" to my grey matter to start work on it when I got home. After a second weekend of serious festing and a week's decompression back at work, I've finally actually gotten around to it.

My introduction to singer, guitarist, and songwriter Rockie Charles Merrick was via a promo of his 1996 Orleans Records CD, Born For You, sent to me by label-owner/producer Carlo Ditta when I was doing my radio show in Memphis. Chock full of Rockie's sometimes meandering, always quirky but enjoyable tunes - mainly slow to mid-tempo soul with touches of blues - the CD put him at least briefly into the spotlight in New Orleans and marked his re-emergence on the local music scene after several decades absence during which he worked as a tugboat captain on the Mississippi River and as a self-employed oyster fisherman. You can read more of Charles' interesting history in the liner notes to the CD, which were written by author Jeff Hannusch, who expanded upon them for a chapter on Charles in his 2001 book, The Soul of New Orleans. Through those pieces I learned that Rockie had made several fairly obscure records back in the mid-1960s and early 1970s. It took me over a decade to find any of the vinyl; and, as far as I know, none of those sides have ever been compiled on CD.

While the Born For You CD never much excited me rhythmically (except for the wonderfully wacky "Festus Believe In Justice", which sounds like a lost Ry Cooder outtake), it was well-produced with good musical support; and Rockie delivered his songs with soul and grit. Some at the time likened his vocals to Al Green (there is a passing similarity in tonality); but Rockie's singing and songwriting reminded me more of the more offbeat stylings of the great Earl King, who was a friend of Charles back in the early 1960s. Besides being a recording artist, King had begun producing various sessions around town in those days and would often hire Rockie to play guitar, but never got around to cutting a record on him. After being turned down by producers Allen Toussaint and Dave Bartholomew, Rockie finally got the opportunity to record on his own from another fledgling producer and label-owner he knew, Senator Jones.


(with appropriate patches of black mold...)

"Riccasha" (Rockie Charles)
Rockie Charles & The Lavonics, ca 1967
LISTEN

I spotted this single on an eBay auction last year; and, boy, was I confused. At first, I didn't get that "Riccasha", which was the side listed, was supposed to be pronounced "ricochet". And, when I consulted Hannusch's pieces on Rockie Charles to refresh my memory about Charles' singles, I found that he consistently referred to the Black Patch sides as "Mr. Rickashay" and "Sinking Like A Ship". To add to the confusion, the R&B Indies discography strangely titled the side "My Rickashay" on its Black Patch discography (such as it is). These people were messin' with my mind; but at least I figured out how it pronounce it! Since "Sinking Like A Ship" was a match for the other side of the single up for bid, I threw caution to the wind and went for it, and lucked out because I was the only one who did - not much demand as yet for the Rockie Charles back catalogue.

Black Patch has a rightful claim to serious obscurity in that, as noted on the label, it was a division of Shagg Records, one of Senator Jones' early micro-companies, which only had five releases of its own. But that seems a lot, considering that this 45 is the only issue listed for Black Patch. In those days, Jones had a label for nearly every occasion, which I am sure allowed him to at least stay one step ahead of his creditors as he pursued the elusive hit, which Rockie Charles' debut record certainly was not. As Charles told Hannusch, "The record didn't turn out the way I thought it would and didn't sell." So, Senator Jones and Rockie Charles ricocheted off on their separate ways.

Too bad nobody heard it, though, because "Riccasha" is a killer little tune. It was the B-side; but I find it to be by far the stronger of the two tracks. The drummer is a force of nature! His short, upbeat drum intro quickly revs up the energy for this dance tune; and, then, drums and bass lock into a pulsing groove duel that propels the entire song to the fade, overcoming the minor distraction of some out of tune instruments in the mix, including a cheesy sounding organ and some strangely voiced horns, which give the track a "garage" feel. Rockie's vocal sound is well-seasoned with a definite Otis Redding influence; and his phrasing is spot on.

I still don't know why Hannusch and Rockie call this "Mr. Rickashay". The lyrics cleverly address the ricochets of relationships and the dancefloor, but never mention a Mr. Rickashay or even Mr. Rockie Shay. I guess Hannusch had not seen a copy of the single; and maybe Rockie mis-remember the title. Or, perhaps there was a later pressing with that title, though I have not uncovered one in my subsequent searches and get the feeling that one very limited pressing was all Senator Jones was good for. There's always the distinct possibility that Jones messed up the title, maybe due to a severe lack of dictionaries in New Orleans at the time. Maybe that's part of what Rockie meant: the record did not turn out they way he expected, because one side had a mangled title no one could pronounce.


(...from water damage...)

"Sinking Like A Ship" (Rockie Charles)
Rockie Charles & The Lavonics, ca 1967
LISTEN

So here's the flip - the actual A-side. This surely is another part of the reason why this record did not set sail on commercial waters, or even float. Musically, the tune might not quite be sinking; but it does no more than tread water, repeating the same two chords and weak little riff until it fades. What holds it together and keeps it going is the kick-ass drumming. That drummer doesn't let the open-ended, going-nowhere song stop him from having a field day. As on the far groovier "Riccasha", the drums here not only inject a strong dance beat into the proceedings, but let fly with some fancy fills, rolling turnarounds, and broken-up segments, never losing the groove.

Charles gives himself no melody to work with and ends up more rapping the lyrics than singing, trying to force a little soul into it by saying "Lord, have mercy" every other line. And those lyrics, appearing to go on much longer that the actual three minutes running time, tell a tale, if I follow it, of a captain who builds a ship, sets to sea, floats around for 40 days, rams an iceberg, jumps overboard with the crew in cold waters full of whales and sharks, and tries to swim back to Liverpool (?), but drowns. With all that, the storyteller is trying to say to his baby, with unintended humor, that he's "sinking like a ship". If his overly extended metaphor is not in fact tortured, it has certainly been water-boarded. The point of the exercise would surely have been as lost on his baby as it is on us. But, I find that if I just follow the drummer, "Sinking Like A Ship" seems far less like a disaster.

I have no idea if the Lavonics were a real band or just a fabricated name for the musicians on the session - never heard of them, and can find no other references to them. The bands Charles gigged with were the Eagles early on, and, in the 1960s, the Gadges Soulful Band (Gadges was pronounced "gauges", by the way - remember the great dictionary shortage). Whoever they were, props to the Lavonics' drummer and bassist.

All things considered, Rockie Charles' debut on Black Patch 711 is a fun record to listen to, and does not deserve to be consigned to perpetual oblivion or just become some collectors' cult fetish item (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I hope to feature some of his other singles at a later date, if they are even half as interesting and entertaining. Though, as his discography attests, he hasn't had much of a recording career until much later in life, Rockie is one of a long line of engagingly eccentric creators and performers from New Orleans. His work may be far from the mainstream, but is worth seeking out in the far more fascinating and mysterious musical backwaters of his hometown.

ROCKIE CHARLES DISCOGRAPHY (incomplete)
"Sinking Like A Ship"/"Riccasha" -Black Patch 711- ca 1967
"Living In The Good Times"/"Someday I'll Call In Love" -Soulgate 13654- ca 1969
"Show My People Around The Curve"/"Calling Your Name" -Soulgate 6050366- ca 1969
"The President Of Soul, Pt 1"/ Part 2 -Soulgate #? -ca 1970?
Born For You -Orleans CD 1911- 1996
The War Is Over -Rockie Charles CD 001- 2001
Have You Seen My Uncle Steve -self-produced- 2002
It's Party time For the Mardi Gras -self-produced- 2003
I Want First Class -Soulgate- 2007

Tracking Lee Diamond

This week, we go back to the late 1950s and early 1960s to hear some sides by Wilbert Smith, better known by his stage name, Lee Diamond, who for over a decade was a multi-instrumental backing musician, songwriter, and vocalist. I find him an elusive figure, because, while his name can he found in credits and as a featured artist, and there are references to him in various written pieces on the music of the period, I've uncovered very little direct information about his life. Early in his career, he worked behind several popular R&B artists, including one of the biggest names in 1950s rock ' n roll; and in the mid-1960s, before fading from the scene, Diamond had a hand in co-writing one of the classic New Orleans soul songs. I guess those are pretty good hooks to hang a story on.

While references to Wilbert Smith/Lee Diamond in print usually always say he was from New Orleans, I have found very little about his early background and upbringing. The earliest mention of Wilbert Smith I've run across is a listing as drummer (?!) on a Roy Brown session in Cincinnatti in 1951. From the Crescent City himself, Brown was a rock 'n' roller before the term was coined and used many hometown players in his band and at sessions for Deluxe Records. Around 1954, the trail picks up again; and we find Smith playing tenor sax in the road band of Shirley & Lee, the Crescent City teen singing duo who were having much chart success on Aladdin Records. While in Nashville on tour, Smith and the band's drummer, Charles Connor, also from New Orleans, were recruited by a young, flamboyant singer from Macon, GA, 'Little Richard' Penniman, for his new band, the Upsetters. Little Richard had done some recording by this point for RCA in 1951/1952 and Don Robey's Peacock label in Houston in 1953 without commercial success, but was developing a powerful and outrageous stage act, playing the hard-driving R&B coming to be known as rock 'n' roll. He and the Upsetters soon became an in-demand, word-of-mouth band working around Georgia and surrounding states out of his home base of Macon. Meeting Lloyd Price at a show there, Richard got a referral from the star and sent a demo tape he made with the Upsetters to Price's label, Specialty Records, in Los Angeles. Though the label owner, Art Rupe, and his new assistant, Bumps Blackwell, were initially cool to the offering, persistent phone calls from Richard (you can just imagine!) caused them to reconsider and eventually buy out his contract with Robey. In 1955, a session was set up for the singer in New Orleans, where Specialty had already been recruiting and recording local talent (notably, Price). Leaving most of his band behind, Little Richard departed for the city and began making rock 'n' roll history.

That first session and many of his subsequent ones in New Orleans were backed by the choice house band at Cosimo Matassa's J & M Studio, including Earl Palmer, drums; Frank Fields, bass; Huey Smith, piano; Lee Allen, tenor sax; Red Tyler, baritone sax; and Justin Adams, Ernest McLean, or Edgar Blanchard, guitar. This core group played on an incredible number of hit records in the 1950s and influenced the sound of rocking R&B for years; and it was Little Richard's supreme good fortune to have cut his seminal hits with them. Fast becoming a rock 'n' roll star, Richard recruited a new version of the Upsetters as his touring band, keeping Smith, who by now was calling himself Lee Diamond, and Connor, and adding, among others, two sax men he had met at his Peacock sessions in Texas, Grady Gaines and Clifford Burks. Though they were almost constantly on the road, Richard began insisting to Specialty that he record with his own band; but the label only released a handful of sides utilizing the Upsetters. Two of those, "Keep A Knockin'" and "Ooh My Soul", cut on the fly at a radio station in Washington, DC, while they were on tour early in 1957, are legendary for capturing some of the big, high-energy sound of the horn-heavy band, driven by Connor's locomotive beats.



As the well-known story goes, by October of 1957, it was over. The conflicted Richard had suddenly quit the music business for religion. That left his band without a front man and many booked dates to fulfill. In order to finish a tour of the Mid-West, the Upsetters, now led by Grady Gaines, hired singer Dee Clark in Chicago to be "Little Richard" for the rest of the tour; and Diamond started alternating between piano and sax, as needed. In the South, they became James Brown's backing band for a time, when the singer was given some of Little Richard's remaining open dates. Charles Connor and Lee Diamond had moonlighted backing Brown while they were in the first version of the Upsetters in Macon. It is there that Connor opened Brown's ears to New Orleans drumming for the first time, as Brown didn't just create funk out of thin air. He and many of his subsequent drummers were influenced by New Orleans rhythms. Lee Diamond had even played sax on Brown's first single, "Please, Please, Please", and co-wrote a song with him, "Chonnie-On-Chon" in 1956. After wrapping up the touring, the Upsetters returned to Chicago and signed on with Vee-Jay Records, cutting a single there for the company's Falcon label (#1009) with Clark as front man. At the same sessions, they also recorded two R&B-styled instrumentals, "The Strip" b/w "Upsetter", released under the name of the band on Falcon 1010, plus these two remarkable sides written by and featuring Diamond on vocals.



"Hattie Malatti" (L. Diamond)
Lee Diamond, Vee-Jay 272, 1958
LISTEN



"Mama Loochie" (L. Diamond)
LISTEN

As enjoyable as this single is on its own merits, it's obvious that Lee Diamond was nowhere near the level of the incendiary Little Richard - but, who was? Neither side exhibits a rocking groove as intense as Richard's best records, either, even though "Mama Loochie" has scattered lyrical references to "Slippin' and Slidin'". Still, there is a great, in-the-pocket feel to both sides that definitely reveals New Orleans roots and shows the band establishing their own sound. Their dynamic had changed due to the departure of original drummer Charles Conner, replaced by another New Orleans contender, Emile Russell, who had played with Pluma Davis' band backing Gatemouth Brown prior to signing on with the Upsetters.

These two cuts show that Russell's drumming style had a syncopated interplay between his kick, snare and cymbals - the polyrhythmic basis of funk. On "Hattie Malatti", his snare hits hang back just behind the beat, creating the pull of tension and release, augmented by his stuttering beats at the end of bars. Meanwhile, his foot definitely lays down another rhythmic counterpoint on the bass drum, though it is harder to hear due to the poor sonics of the recording. In all, it's an outstanding groove that I could easily listen to on endless repeat.

I thought that there wasn't as much going on rhythmically with "Mama Loochie", as Russell's snare work has a similar but simpler feel than on "Hatti". Then I noticed what he was doing on the bell of the ride cymbal throughout the song, overlaying another more complex pattern with somewhat of a Cuban feel, similar to what Hungry Williams brought into popular New Orleans drumming in that period. Surely Russell was influenced by it. I think these tracks provide further evidence of the funk feel emerging into popular music through New Orleans. It's definitely the kind of stuff we're always on the lookout for here at HOTG.

Before I move on, I've just got to give props to guitarist Nataniel Douglass (another veteran of the Pluma Davis group) for the remarkably hip opening guitar intro to "Hatti" that he riffed on throughout the song, even though it was probably lifted from Chuck Berry. It's tastefully done. And that saxophone section (Grady Gaines (doing the leads), Clifford Burks and Wilbert 'Lee Diamond' Smith (when not on piano) all on tenors, and Larry Linnear, on baritone) - it was massive. I'm sure heard live, these guys would have blown you clean away.

The Upsetters recorded at least four other songs for Vee-Jay** that were not released, including Diamond's cool "A Girl In Every City" which I featured here in 2004 from the Charly Upsetters-related LP, The New Orleans Connection. It's in play on the HOTG webcast. But by 1960, Diamond had left the group and gone back home. In New Orleans, he hooked up with Minit Records for two singles, "It Won't Be Me" b/w "Please Don't Leave" (#617) in 1960 and "Let Me Know" b/w "I Need Money" (#635) in 1961, working with the up and coming hit-producer, Allen Toussaint.



"It Won't Be Me" (W. Smith)
Lee Diamond, from Home of the Blues, Minit LP 0001
LISTEN

This track comes from my well-worn (well. . . worn-out is more like it) copy of the Minit compilation LP imprecisely titled Home Of the Blues, released just after Imperial had bought the New Orleans label, and featuring other cuts by Jessie Hill, Aaron Neville, and Ernie K-Doe. Off his first single for Minit, Diamond's "It Won't Be Me" is pretty much standard fare for New Orleans R&B of the period, not at all a bad thing; but it just doesn't have a strong hook like hits of the period that Toussaint produced, "Mother-In- Law", "I Like It Like That", "Ooh-Poo-Pah-Doo", to name but a few. Still, the upbeat, stop-time tune has got some great rolling piano playing (likely Toussaint), pumping horns, and synco-shuffle drumming, more likely than not courtesy of John Boudreaux, that could definitely incite some dancing. Diamond's vocal here reminds me of Eddie Bo, who was cutting a lot of records for Ric in New Orleans at the time. On the other side's easy-going ballad, "Please Don't Leave", also written by Diamond, the singer moved into Little Willie John territory. So, I suspect the vocal similarities were an unsuccessful attempt at commercial gain through association. I'd be interested in hearing the Diamond's other two sides for Minit but have yet to run across them either on a compilation or the actual 45.

Somewhat after the Minit releases, Diamond got the chance to record another single through an association with John Marascalco, a Mississippian who had moved to Los Angeles as a young man and in 1956 walked into Specialty Records with some songs he had written that became hits for Little Richard. Marascalco, who knew Diamond and the Upsetters from back in those days, had since gotten into the record label business.



"Good Old Summertime" (Adpt. Marascalco)
Lee Diamond with the Challengers, Lola 100, 196?
LISTEN



"Nothing But A Playboy" (Joyner-Harshman-Marascalco)
LISTEN

The origins of this 45 are not clear. For starters, the sides, a revamped version of "Good Old Summertime" (adapted as a goosed-up dance song) b/w "Nothing But A Playboy", appeared on two different labels, Bourbon Street #100 and Lola #100. Marascalco owned Lola Records*, which seems to have been based in California, and also co-owned Infinity and several other small labels out there; but I don't have any information about Bourbon Street other than a brief discography in the R&B Indies, which shows only two other releases besides Diamond's. Marascalco probably had some connection to that single, too; but one wonders why he issued the same single on different imprints. To confuse things even more, the R&B Indies discography for Lola shows three different singles in their catalog designated as #100, and some of their other issue numbers are repeated as well. The date for this single on the discography is 1966; but, according to a table the R&B Indies provides elsewhere, the delta number used by Monarch Pressing that is stamped in the dead wax on the record indicates it is from July, 1962. As was often the case back then, the labels are undated.

While I think the single was recorded in New Orleans, that is just a hunch based on several things: the fact that Diamond was in the city around that time, the rather complex drumming pattern that sounds at times like it might be by Hungry Williams, and the trumpet riff on the A-side that reminds me of Melvin Lastie's playing. So, were the Challengers credited here with Diamond an actual group or apocryphal? Hard to say; but I’m pretty certain they weren’t the band by that name that recorded instrumental cover versions of hits in the mid-1960s. I’m guessing this "group" was a made up name for some New Orleans players, maybe to be reminiscent of Diamond's association with the Upsetters (?). Any other suggestions?

This record is another example of Diamond doing derivative material, in this case from Marascalco. The updated "Good Old Summertime" sounds like it could be some lost side by Freddie Cannon, the Bostonian rocker who was having pop hits at the time quite similar to this. And "Nothing But A Playboy" seems a throwback to the Little Richard era. Not bad, but certainly not great or even very original. While Diamond's over-saturated, recorded in the red vocals were worthy, this 45 was a non-starter destined for commercial oblivion; and now, almost half a century later, it can sometmes be found in the virtual record bins of ebay.

In 1965, Diamond was writing songs with George Davis, a session guitarist, writer and arranger who had recently started a production company, Par-Lo Enterprises, with another session player, Alvin 'Red' Tyler, and Warren Parker. Diamond showed Davis an unfinished song he had, entitled "Tell It Like It Is", which still needed lyrics. Davis thought it was promising enough to include with other songs they had written together for use in a recording project on singer Aaron Neville. As Jeff Hannusch relates in his book, The Soul of New Orleans, Diamond was incarcerated shortly thereafter and could not write any lyrics for the tune. So, Davis set some down to finish out "Tell It Like It Is", which Neville recorded soon thereafter. A classic performance, the song surprisingly found no takers when Par-Lo offered it to labels in New Orleans and New York. This indifference forced the partnership to release it on their own hastily set up Par-Lo label, along with another Davis-Diamond song on the B-side, "Why Worry". Their faith in "Tell It Like It Is" and Neville soon paid off, as the record got airplay and started selling in New Orleans. Then, it began to spread out around the country, eventually charting and rising to number 2 before it was done, with sales of more than two million. But that extreme and sudden success proved to be the undoing of the partnership, its label and the local distributor, Dover Records, owned by Cosimo Matassa. Inexperienced in the business end of record sales, Par-Lo and Dover shipped out tons of singles on credit to meet demand, but were unable to collect their accounts quickly enough to cover their expenses - and went bankrupt. Aaron Neville never got royalties he was due on the sales, as a result. Probably the only people who made anything on the deal were the writers, Davis and Diamond, and their publishing company, who would have received royalties for the airplay, and may still to this day (I know that Davis is still with us and going strong).

But, whether he got ample rewards for his efforts or not, his contribution to "Tell It Like It Is" was certainly Lee Diamond's shining achievement in the music business. Hannusch never said why Diamond went to jail and for how long. But, I know he wrote several other songs in the mid-1960s, two of which, "I Caught You In A Lie" and "Yak Yak Yak" were recorded by Robert Parker on a couple of singles for Nola Records after his initial big 1966 hit, "Barefootin'". As kindly noted by Travis in the comments section, Sir Shambling's fine site showns Diamond as writer of Marilyn Barbarin's first single, "One Little Word", on the Nola label. Also, there is evidence that later Diamond made at least one more record, teaming up again with George Davis for "Nobody But You" b/w "You Were Made For Me", billed as George & Lee on the local International City label around 1971 (anybody got a copy?).

Although I lose his trail after that, I have found out through a contact that Lee Diamond passed away in 1981. What we know about him, just through his association and connection with some major names and events in New Orleans music history, makes for an interesting back story to the records and session listings bearing his name. Because he hung in through the good times and the hard times of his business, he left behind a nice little legacy that is well worth remembering.

* [Note: I almost forgot to thank Andi Grabsch, who last year sent me a detailed comment on my first Lee Diamond post from 2004 (linked above), concerning the Lola single and label. I did not know anything about them and began researching further because of his information. He has since done extensive research on Lola and other of Marascalco's related labels, which can be viewed on his website. It's in German , which is not a probelm for some of you; but, even if you are like me and can't read it all, the discography and label scans are informative in themselves.

I appreciate the heads up, Andi. Because of you, I've found out a little more about Diamond and Lola Records. Maybe, we'll both learn even more, if there is somebody else out there with a few more pieces to the puzzle.]

** Pete Hoppula has an extensive online Upsetters discography that you should defintely take a look at, as it extends to CD comps of some of their early recordings.

Larry Hamilton: On Record (And In Parenthesis)

This week I'm back with more sessions from Malaco Studios in Jackson, MS, where, during the early 1970s, Wardell Quezergue produced/arranged many records for hand-picked New Orleans vocal talent such as King Floyd, Jean Knight, the Barons Ltd, and the artists featured today. The more I explore the music from that period and place, especially the earlier sides, the more I get a sense of the soulful, funky little assembly line Quezergue had going. With songs written primarily by his New Orleans team, sometimes known as Pelican Productions, he would create hooky, rhythmic arrangements (usually starting with just a tuning fork!) and work with the locally recruited singers to perfect their presentation. Then the material was ready for final assembly and polishing at Malaco, where Big Q would thoroughly teach the in-house studio band the arrangements and record the rhythm tracks, before finally inserting the well-rehearsed vocals. One thing's for sure, he saved a lot on money on studio time with that efficiency.

Today's segment of my ongoing saga about the music from the Malaco/New Orleans nexus focuses on one of the songwriters who Quezergue used, Larry Hamilton. Also an impressive vocalist, he got an early start, joining the locally popular late 1960s soul-funk outfit, David Batiste and the Gladiators, as lead singer while still in high school. Unfortunately he wasn't singing on their only known 45, the legendary "Funky Soul", which was primarily an instrumental. While he was working with Quezergue during the early 1970s, for some reason I really don't comprehend, Hamilton only got to record two singles under his own name: Pelican 1233 and two funky sides on the decidedly obscure Ham 101 ("My Mind Keeps Playing Tricks On Me" b/w "Ain't Nothing Like That Funky Music"). He did not record again, as far as I know, until Allen Toussaint chose him to be one of the artists on the roster of NYNO Records in the late 1990s. Hamilton's enjoyable eponymous CD for the label was produced by Toussaint, full of fine musical accompaniment, and featured songs from the pens of both men.

Around the age of 20, Hamilton wrote or co-wrote a number of songs that were recorded by some of the impressive artists that Quezergue was working with at Malaco, Irma Thomas ("She's Taken My Part"), Jean Knight ("Save The Lat Kiss For Me"), and, of course, two other vocalists featured today, Johnny Adams and King Floyd. Later in the 1970s, Albert King also recorded Hamilton's slow cooking lift of B. B. King's "The Thrill Is Gone" called "The Feeling" on his Toussaint-produced New Orleans Heat LP; and there is an Etta James track out there somewhere ("Get On Your Job", anybody know of it?) with his name attached.

Take a listen and find out a little more about Larry Hamilton both as a featured artist on one label and as one of the credited writers on a couple of others.


Hole photo by Rick Olivier

"Gossip" (Michael A. Adams, Albert Savoy, Larry Hamilton)
Larry Hamliton. Pelican 1233, ca 1971
LISTEN

Though it starts with some gimmicky, unnecessary chipmunkish chattering, "Gossip" is not a trivial novelty number. Its writing, arrangement and performance are top-notch; and the side offers another shining example Quezergue's production style. Unlike looser funk grooves, the inherently structural, poly-rhythmic parts he established in this arrangement can seem almost mechanical and unnatural, if you think too much about it (guilty!); but, taken as a whole, the groove gives up a uniquely fascinating herky-jerk syncopation that immediately engages the backside as if a switch had been flipped.

Many of you are familiar with another funk song named "Gossip", written by the Meters' Leo Nocentelli and recorded in 1970 by the band, backing Cyril Neville on his first solo outing. Hamilton was likely aware of it and inspired by at least the subject matter to write his own "Gossip". Although the Meters' funk groove wins hands down by comparison, I frankly think the Hamilton/Quezergue/Malaco collaboration is probably the better song overall. The lyrics are much more substantial. Hamilton's delivery is certainly more soulfully nuanced than Neville's 'just let it rip' delivery. And his song has a better, multi-part structure that Quezergue highlights with his dynamic arrangement, as opposed to Nocentelli's linear groovefest. Nothing wrong with either of them. They just are two totally different approaches.

One of the dangers of the assembly line production approach to popular music is that, if you aren't very careful, you can fall back on using standardized parts that end up giving your product a sound too similar to the others, too self-referential; and you lose your competitive edge. There have always been blatant record company attempts at copy-cat songs, trying to rehash a hit. It's the "they bought it the first time - maybe they'll buy it again" school of turning a quick buck and taking the easy way out, which obviously worked enough of the time to keep them trying. I bring this up because Hamilton's "Keep The News To Yourself", the b-side of "Gossip" fell into this trap, with the bass line and general arrangement resembling a slightly sped up version of King Floyd's "Groove Me", which was the first big success of Quezergue and the Malaco Groove Assembly Plant that same year. While it was well-played and performed, "Keep The News To Yourself" really had nothing fresh to offer either lyrically or musically. Plus that side is noisier -so I didn't include it.

You'll note that Hamilton's co-writer here is credited as Elijah Walker, who often got producer credits on Quezergue's various Malaco records of the period, as well. Walker was a rather shady-dealing business/money man in partnership with the Big Q, backing his recording projects. Typically, such an operative often got reimbursement in the form of some percentage of profits and/or producer fees and songwriting credits, though he did not actually perform those functions. If you were a writer who wanted to get your song placed, you would likely be expected to give up a piece of your potential royalites to somebody for the priviledge. Such was/is the way of the record business



"Let Us Be" (Larry Hamilton & Elijah Walker)
King Floyd, Chimneyville 439, 1971
LISTEN

Chimneyville was Malaco's house label, which had released King Floyd's "Groove Me" as its first single after both Stax and Atlantic Records had turned the song down. Of course, fairly soon after it came out, "Groove Me" shot up to #1 on the R&B charts late in 1970, followed quickly to #5 by the similar sounding "Baby Let Me Kiss You", early in 1971. Suddenly, Atlantic snapped to attention and gave Chimneyville a distribution deal and issued an LP, King Floyd, on their Cotillion label, which had as it's second cut on Side One "Let Us Be", written by Larry Hamilton (with Elijah Walker again getting his cut - see above). That summer, the song (shortened by about a minute from the album version) was released on Floyd's third Chimneyville 45 with "Got To Have Your Lovin'" (by Joe Broussard and Michael Adams), which was much more of a funk powerhouse and got some brief airplay and chart action.

Though it was pretty much a b-side and an album cut, I think "Let Us Be" is one of Hamilton's better songwriting efforts of his early period. It's right in Floyd's limited vocal wheelhouse (he wasn't much of a power-hitter), giving him a decent melody to hang onto over some interesting changes, and an uncomplicated chorus. Meanwhile, Quezergue's arrangement offered a mid-tempo groove with a smoother, more subtle funk, propelled by the pumping bass, kick drum change-ups, and syncopated sticking on the turnarounds. As always, his horn charts are choice, too. By not falling back on any of those standard assembly line parts and same old grooves, Hamilton and Big Q helped Floyd make one of his more distinctive records that put his sound midway between Memphis soul and New Orleans funk, appropriately recorded in a city located almost exactly between the two cities.

Players on the King Floyd album were identified as the Chimneyville Express Rhythm Section (a name that did not stick) and consisted of Jerry Puckett, guitar; Wardell Quezergue, piano & organ; Vernie Robbins, bass; and James Stroud, drums & percussion. The horns, the Chimneyville Brass, were Ed Butler, Hugh Garraway, Rick Thorley, Lee Komegay, Eddie Williams, Charles Wicker, and Perry Lomax. Background voices ("the Chimneyvillettes"?) were Jackie Dorsey, Annie Bass, and Katherine Dalvit.

The only other song of Hamilton's Floyd cut, "I Feel Like Dynamite" (co-written with Albert Savoy), from 1974 on Chimneyville 10202, revisited the more linear funk of his first two hits. And, while the playing was spot on, the pieces well put together, and the vocal engaging, it still feels more like a funky holding pattern than a progression.



"More Than One Way" (L. Hamilton - E. Walker)
Johnny Adams, Atlantic 2834, 1971
LISTEN

Back to the assembly line. But what a grooving factory job. "More than One Way" is pretty much boilerplate grooving from Big Q, the main assembler, calculated by Hamilton and his boss to ride the "Groove Me" slipstream to Hitsville. Of course, such was not the case; and we again point to the drawbacks of Plan A - too much similarity can breed, if not contempt, indifference in the marketplace. Then again, I am not sure if Atlantic did very much to market and push this release around the country. Probably not. Remember, if you will, that they had also passed on Jean Knight's "Mr. Big Stuff", cut at the same session as "Groove Me". Knight's single languished for a year before Stax picked it up and hit paydirt. For some reason, as Rob Bowman tells the story in the notes to The Last Soul Company, Jerry Wexler did not dig Quezergue's productions, which admittedly were somewhat out of the ordinary. He took on "Groove Me" only after it was a certified smash, made some money on distribution and the LP, and let the rest of the Malaco's New Orleans acts slide.

Though boilerplate it may be, I dig this tune, which is certainly greatly enhanced by the vocal prowess of the great Johnny Adams, testifying to Hamilton's clever, truthful lyrics. Adams' singing seem so effortless, with such a natural purity to his tone. No melody to speak of? No problema for Senor Johnny. He could get a lot of use out of just a few notes, work 'em, bend and stretch 'em, goose 'em on up into the best damn little run you've ever heard sung over and over for almost three minutes. In the course of his long career, Mr. Adams excelled at interpreting soul, the deeper the better, and sophisticated, jazzy blues. But, it's always a pleasure to hear him get hold of some funk - you don't often hear a voice of his caliber doing it. That's why, despite the abysmal commercial results, Hamilton and Quezergue still lucked up with this one. Johnny Adams took it higher.

You Know You Want It

Dunno. Just in the mood for some more Chocolate Milk here on Chocolate Bunny Eve. I’m heading out for a few days and wanted to leave you with a groove that I find as addictive than high concentrations of dark cocao.

I’ve featured Chocolate Milk cuts here several times; and I’ve got links to those posts below*. They’re good to read again, not for what I’ve said, but for the comments of the band’s drummer, Dwight Richards, who has been writing in here from time to time since the first few months of HOTG. Maybe we can summon him up again to shed more light on this number. Hope so.

I’ve previously admitted that I was a late arrival to the CM party; and once in, I was slow to engage. At first, I was looking for something “New Orleans” about their music, some of that truly ratty funk that the steamy city can exude, some eccentric expression that could have arisen nowhere else, instead of paying attention to what they were actually doing. A band of high quality musicianship, material, and frequently great grooves, Chocolate Milk made a conscious decision to attune their sound and vibe to appeal to listeners not only in, but far beyond, the confines of the Crescent City. Call it a more “commercial” sound, if you will; but, if you heard this group without knowing anything about them, you likely would not immediately suspect that Professor Longhair, Smokey Johnson, or Allen Toussaint, to shorten severely a long list of local influencers, were lurking in their collective woodshed, and, in the latter’s case, in the control room. Once I figured that one out, I started to dig them for what they had to offer rather than what my expectations were.

Still, I am definitely more of a fan of Chocolate Milk’s output with Toussaint producing - their first four albums – than I am of their subsequent work with George Tobin and, even later, Allen Jones of the Bar-Kays. There’s still some essence of Chocolate City funk below the surface. Toussaint and Marshall Sehorn of Sansu Enterprises in New Orleans took the band on around 1975 and secured their deal with RCA, while released their impressive first LP, Action Speaks Louder than Words **. The producer wrote some of their material over the next few years; but the band could do just fine for themselves in that department, working with Toussaint on the arrangements.. Unfortunately (there’s that downbeat qualifier again), while their songs occasionally got into the upper reaches of the R&B charts, CM never could get enough traction to completely break out nationwide, no matter who was calling the shots and how good those shots were.

Since I pick the tunes here, mainly going for what moves me, my biases are fairly evident. All I can offer are a few points of departure and a bit of background. Then, it’s up to you to apply the salt grains as needed and, if you’re interested, explore this band in more detail for yourself. Hope you’ll continue to do that



"Say Won'tcha"
Chocolate Milk, from Milky Way, RCA, 1979
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

I have long relished the groove of “Say Won’tcha”, a creation of the band as a whole that appeared on their final LP under Toussaint’s direction, Milky Way, recorded wholly in Los Angeles and released in 1979. What the song, which charted as high as #39, lacks in lyrical heft, it more than makes up for with its deft, intricate, polyrhythmic arrangement of simple parts, something Toussaint could bring out so well in a willing and able aggregation. The continual swirl of the bubbly ingredients spins this confection into a dancing froth of funk – a Chocolate Milk Shake – so tasty, it’s hard not to overindulge. Sweet.

Couldn’t think of a better way to start celebrating the rites of Spring.

the inner sleeve

* "Paradise"
"Pluck It"
"Do Unto Others"

for a fine, insightful appreciation of the album and the group, read this post at the high class blog, breath of life.

The Sister Steps Out At Last

NOTE: Those of you who have been along for the ride for the past few years may recall that I featured an amazing funk tune from The Sister And Brothers, "Yeah, You Right" back in 2005, just about a week before Katrina blew in. I have recently updated that post with new details on the sessions and those involved and re-activated the audio while we also take a look at the third and seemingly final single from that aggregation. I encourage you long-timers and new readers alike to check out the song and revised background there before, during, or after you take in the current post, because I am writing it assuming that you have. That's what links are for.



"Ack-A-Fool" (R. Shaab)
The Sister & Brothers, Calla 175, 1970
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)


After The Sister And Brothers only two Uni singles tanked, the label obviously dropped them. I wasn't even aware that they had another release until I quite by accident ran across this on the Calla label, dating from 1970, a lucky break to be sure. Before even listening to the songs, the label provided me with the previously unknown identity of the lead singer, Sister Geri, a/k/a Geraldine Richard, who also arranged both sides with producer Ron Shaab. I still haven't come up with any further information about her, but it's a start. As previously posted, Cold Grits played on the Uni sessions; but it is still unclear whether all, some, or none of them appeared on the Calla tracks, although the b-side makes me think that’s possible. At any rate, the third time was not the commercial charm for Sister Geri, Shaab, and the Brothers.

Written by Ron Shaab, "Ack-A-Fool" is a much less intensely rhythmic outing than either "The Jed Clampett" or "Yeah, You Right". I find it light, casual and ultimately inconsequential funk - one of those tunes that talks more about being funky than it delivers. It's not an a-side that would have made people line up at the local record hut with a couple of hot dollars in hand. There's just not much going on. Sister Geri and her backing sister singers amusingly keep asking if the music and musicians are "black enough for ya", either an ironic comment, if Cold Grits were involved, or an indication that the Brothers were now bruthas - not that it made the track any better. Anyway, the women made some soulful noise; but their talents were pretty much wasted on this trifle. Fortunately, flipping the record turns out to be a redemption and revelation.



"Chained" (F. Wilson)
The Sister & Brothers, Calla 175, 1970
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

Finally! On the final side of the final single, Sister Geri got a chance to let it rip, covering a great tune from Motown songsmith Frank Wilson that Marvin Gaye took to funkville in 1968 on his great original version. Her arrangement with Shaab borrowed the guitar (electric sitar?) riff from Gaye's single, but smoothed out the dynamics and push-pull that made his take hard to top. Still, it's a great groove and song choice that allows Ms Richard to shine on something vocally and musically substantial. Why oh why was this not the a-side? She sings the thing as if she knows it's her last shot at the spotlight, and holds nothing back. Maybe she doesn't have one of the absolutely classic soul voices; but this is a damn fine record. I definitely wish I could have gotten to hear more from Sister Geri.

Denise Keeble: Giving It Up In More Ways than One

This is a follow-up to a post I did last October on Denise Keeble's Pelican single "Chain On My Thing" b/w "Before It Falls Apart". Right around the time I featured those sides, I found a nice copy of her only other known single and am finally getting around to featuring it. Please refer to that earlier post for what little background I have on Ms Keeble and those songs.



"Love School" (E. Small -M. Cottrell)
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

If you thought Wardell Quezergue's Pelican label was obscure, B.F.W. has it beat, with seemingly only this one release to its credit. Probably the only reason this 45 came out on a newly minted imprint was the hope that it would get some airplay and attract the interest of a larger label that could give it a push into national markets. A hope that didn't happen.

Big Q. produced and arranged these sides, as he did on her other record; and, from the sound, I am sure all the sessions were done at Malaco in Jackson, MS around 1970-1971, during the very productive days when Quezergue was first using the studio and it's fine young studio band, creating big hits right off the bat for Jean Knight and King Floyd. Obviously, "Love School" is done in the style of Knight's massive "Mr. Big Stuff", which was written by members of the producer's songwriting team, Joe Broussard, Carol Washington, and Ralph Williams. Another member of that team, Elliott Small, co-wrote "Love School" with Milton Cottrell; and, while it has a pretty funny concept and some of the funky bounce of Knight's hit, it pales by comparison. Part of the problem is that Keeble just doesn't have the same sass and stand-out vocal chops to deliver the goods. Even if Knight had done it, though, this would have been at best a B-side or album cut. Still, Quezergue's signature tight arrangement of syncopated parts grooves enough to make it all worth hearing. The predominant, percolating bass line focuses the track on the booty and is what makes me come back for more education.

As with Keeble's other single, I find the B-side more impressive, which is why I am including it.



"Giving Up" (V. McCoy)
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

Written by Van McCoy, a great songwriter and producer of soul/pop, for Gladys Knight in 1964, "Giving Up", in Quezergue's deft hands, outshines McCoy's own production on Knight's original Maxx single. Dramatic and musically sophisticated, it's just the kind of thing a talent like the Big Q could run with. He issued forth a flowing, lush, well-paced and rhythmically gripping arrangement that uplifts Denise Keeble's vocals and allows her to show her strengths; and she holds her own, although she is nowhere near the league of Gladys Knight. Imagine what Knight could have done with this version. To listen deeply into this song is to behold and relish Quezergue's gifts in all their glory - and on a B-side at that. I have all four songs from Keeble's 45s on the Funky Delicacies CD, Wardell Quezergue's Funky Funky New Orleans, but totally forgot about this one until I got the single. That's a true record collecting pay-off right there.

Interestingly, around the same time that Keeble did her version, Donny Hathaway also recorded an interpretation of "Giving Up" that took the song somewhere else; but, neither his take nor Keeble's caught a commercial break. Subsequently, Keeble either gave up on the business, or it gave up on her, because, as far as I can tell, she did not record again.

Tami Lynn's Unlikely Hit Had A Funky Flip

I've been too busy to post for a while with, among other things, research for an investigation over at Red Kelly's Soul Detective into some circumstances that came to light after a post I did here last year. Since it really turned out not to have much to do with New Orleans, as interesting as it is, I turned it over to Red and anyone else who wants to try to solve some music business mysteries. We are pursuing leads there now. Check it out.

It's been several months since I've featured a female artist here - and that's too long. As I have pointed out before, there have been far fewer women than men on the Crescent City music scene; but, they were there and deserve representation. So, I'll play some catch-up in the next few posts.



"The Boy Next Door" (Lastie - Brown)
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)



"I'm Gonna Run Away From You" (Bert Berns)
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

Produced by prolific songwriter and hit-maker Bert Berns in New York City, and originally issued in the US on ATCO (#6342) in 1965, this single was not a success for Tami Lynn at the time. But in 1971, a British producer, John Abbey, re-discovered it and was responsible for releasing the record in Great Britain on the Mojo label, part of the Polydor group. Due to enthusiastic response on the Northern Soul scene, the A-side, "I'm Gonna Run Away From You", became a hit, staying on the charts for over a year, and making the experienced but unknown jazz singer a sudden pop star in that country.

Lynn started life as Gloria Brown in the Gert Town area of New Orleans in 1942; and her immersion in vocal music began with singing gospel in her early teens. In high school she was involved with the school choir and sang lead in the musical, Showboat. Her first professional singing came about by sheer coincidence, when studio musician and jazz saxophonist 'Red' Tyler was playing with his band at the Joy Tavern very near where she lived. Tyler's vocalist was a no-show one night; so the club owner suggested that his neighbor's daughter could sing. Hearing some promise in the quickly recruited, nervous youngster,Tyler had her sing with the band regularly; and she could soon hold her own in front of an audience, doing top quality material.

Tyler became one of a group of the city's finest African-American session players, led by Harold Battiste, who started their own record label, A.F.O. (All For One), in 1961. The group, who also gigged around town as the A.F. O. Executives doing jazz originals and standards, began playing regularly at the Joy Tavern with Gloria, now Tami (or Tammy) Lynn, on vocals. Battiste signed Lynn to the label in short order and issued her first recording, "Baby" (penned by Tyler) b/w "Where Can I Go". With Tami as featured vocalist, the Executives did some traveling and cut an A.F.O. LP, A Compendium, in 1963; but the label crashed shortly thereafter due to a bad national distribution deal with Sue Records, In the wake of that, Tami and the band moved to Los Angeles, looking for better opportunities. But LA was not conducive to jazz singing; and, in 1964, Lynn moved on to New York City for a few years, where she got a few bookings at the famed Birdland and recorded the one-off pop 45 we are featuring today.

Working with Berns, one of the hottest record men of the day, Tami sang his "I'm Going to Run Away From You" with a voice that sounded remarkably mature for a young woman in her early 20s. I think the song was perhaps designed for a younger sounding voice; but Lynn comfortably makes it her own. Pure pop that it is, "I'm Gonna Run Away From You" has the highly commercial and somewhat generic sound of many such records of the day - as a matter of fact, certain musical phrases in the backing track remind me a lot of Lou Christie's smash, "Lightnin' Strikes", from that same year; but Berns' magic touch seemed to have misfired, as Tami's single passed virtually unnoticed at the time. Personally, the B-side, "The Boy Next Door", written by Lynn (as Gloria Brown) and Melvin Lastie of the Executives, is more up the HOTG alley. I had heard of it, but had never heard it until I got the single a few months back. I don't know who is playing on that NYC sesson; but it is a real New Orleans-influenced proto-funk gem.

Tami never could get a foothold in the Big Apple, though; and by 1967 or so, she had filtered back to the West Coast, re-uniting with Battiste, who was working on numerous projects: commercials, recording sessions for Sonny and Cher, Dr. John's first few ATCO albums, and producing/arranging for numerous artists singed to the Pulsar label, including the up and coming King Floyd. Battiste got Tami work as a backing vocalist on many of those sessions.

In 1971, she went to Atlantic's production facilities at Criteria Studios in Miami to sing backup on Dr. John's The Sun, Moon & Herbs project. As fate would have it, this would be a very eventful year for the chanteuse. Atlantic's Jerry Wexler, who was familiar with Tami because he loved her fiery, double-time version of "Mojo Hanna" from the A.F. O. Executives LP, asked her while she was there to record a new version of the tune, which was released that year as a single on Cotillion. But, despite it's cookin' funkiness and her intense delivery, the record did not go anywhere. Meanwhile in England, John Abbey on a hunch decided to re-issue the "I'm Gonna Run Away From You" single; and, as mentioned, it was a run-away success. He came to the States and took Tami to Malaco Studios in Jackson, MS, where, with the help of Wardell Quezergue, he had her record a number of tracks that ranged from funky soul to overblown soul/pop (with a hint of country!). As a result of her popularity in the UK, Atlantic decided to release an LP to capitalize on it; but, instead of doing it up right, they cobbled it together, using the Malaco sessions to which they added "I'm Gonna Run Away From You" and both sides of the "Mojo Hanna" single cut earlier with Wexler. Since her UK hit was outdated and virtually unknown in the US, and the newer material didn't appeal to those in England who had bought the Mojo single, the LP, Love Is Here And Now You're Gone, released in 1972 on Cotillion, totally missed any target audience and crashed. After over 30 years in limbo, the album was re-issued on CD several years ago and is worth picking up.

Late in 1971, Tami contributed backing vocals for the Rolling Stones' Exile On Main Street album; and, because of it's massive popularity, that remains her best known work in the US, over a long career that continues to this day. Her only other album is the 1992 CD, Tamiya Lynn, an enjoyable excursion into jazzy soul/funk, featuring all original material that generally hits more than it misses.

WWOZ Archives Go To Library of Congress

My Arkansas correspondent, Uncle Groover, sent me this link to an NPR story he heard the other day about 'OZ's vast live music archives, which barely survived Katrina, being sent to the Library of Congress for safe-keeping - as the recordings are truly a national treasure. Here's a quote:

It could take more than 10 years to catalog and digitize WWOZ's vast collection. But Gene Deana, head of the recorded-sound section at the Library of Congress, says he's thrilled to get it.

"The collection is remarkable. It is full of treasures. It's absolutely an all-star lineup of New Orleans jazz and blues performers. Right now, we are looking at about 3,000 hours, and I understand that there is more to come."

Jazz and blues performers, Mr. Deana? If you think you're just getting jazz and blues, you're in for a b-i-g surprise. Suffice it to say, the place will never be the same. Kudos to David Freedman and WWOZ for performing an ultimately revolutionary act, completely and utterly funkifying the LOC! And, of course, preserving the music for generations to come. Hat's off to ya.

Random Reviews Of 2007 Releases + Cool Boogaloo

If you've been hanging around for a while, you know that very occasionally I do some reviews of more recent HOTG releases. Way back, I did an early review of the second Bonerama CD and the release party, too. Then there was my review of the Dirty Dozen's What's Goin' On and interview with Roger Lewis; and, of course, this past year I featured a track from and reviewed Papa Mali's latest CD, Do Your Thing (see below). Also, about a year ago, I did some mini-reviews of releases I found notable looking back on 2006. Besides the never-ending quest for rare and/or rarely heard New Orleans-related vinyl, I keep buying new stuff by New Orleans artists, plus CD re-issue comps of old material, and encourage you all to do the same. I'm going to try the short review format again - but, frankly, I just don't have time to write much about current releases. My focus remains on old vinyl grooves with stories to tell or be discovered. Several of this latest batch of mainly 2007 CDs were sent to me by bands or labels; and they are always welcome. If you send them, I will get to them as I can. If I dig 'em, a cut very likely will be added to the streaming playlist (now about a 20 hour loop with no repeats) at HOTG Internet Radio. And, I will continue to add audio from my posts and more recent music there, including cuts from the reviewed CDs below.

One mo' thing. if an when you buy some of these CDs, I urge you to listen to them when possible on decent speakers hooked to an amp with some punch. I know I am in my geezerhood and all; but the ridiculously compressed audio of mp3s and tiny headphones or computer speakers does not cut it for anything more than very casual listening. The music and computer manufacturing industries don't give a flip about sound quality, a/k/a high fidelity. An entire generation has grown up thinking what currently passes for audio emanating from iPods, phones and hard drives, is all there is. Always get as full a hit of the music as possible (live, of course, being best, if the sound crew aren't deaf as posts). The mp3s I post are for reference purposes only and and not meant to convey the full range audio that a decent turntable or CD deck, amp and speakers can deliver. Sermon over. So, without further doo-doo, here's a list in no particular order of some of the most remarkable stuff on CD I scored this past year, with my brief (you can always hope) comments.

Bonerama, Bringing It Home (Independent 2007) - A band that has recorded all three of its CDs live, these guys (four trombones, sousaphone, guitar, and trap drums) have balls, as well as bells, of brass. Each CD reflects their maturation as players and a band, totally comfortable blending New Orleans second lining, R&B riffing, jazz chops and classic rock into a mind-bending amalgam that doesn't implode into chaos or fit neatly into a niche. Sure, things can be overblown sometimes,when they are cranking live on some Ozzy, Zep or Allman Brothers number. Playing at Tipitina's, Uptown New Orleans, where excess ain't wretched, it's expected, it's all just part of the party. Otherwise, the funk quotient is high outside of the zomboid classic radio numbers, especially on the originals, and is intensified further here by Stanton Moore's guesting on drums. My favorite cut is an original with an uncommon sound for the band, "Equale", written by one of the bonemen, Steve Suter. It has an intro and interludes that are quiet, stately, almost classical, only to break out into a swinging jazz/funk groove with horn voicings that would not be out of place as an instrumental interlude at a Steely Dan concert. And that's meant to be a compliment. Another pretty friggin' awesome performance, from the dedicated boner brotherhood, as their many fans have come to expect. Catch 'em on tour.

George Porter, Jr, It's Life (Transvideo 2007) - Quite simply the best solo effort to date for the master bassist with fine songs, including some Meters covers, great players and playing throughout. Yes, George's vocal range is limited; but he is supremely comfortable with his singing these days and uses his voice effectively. Several years in the making, this CD was produced, arranged and mixed to perfection by the man himself with assists from David Torkanowsky and Tracy Griffin, who also lend instrumental support. We should all be grateful that George's studio was on the second floor when Katrina came to town and left the water running. His tapes and equipment were spared; and he got to finish this project and remind the world that he's a multi-talented artist in his own right, whose side projects just happen to be the original Meters, the Funky Meters, and Porter, Batiste, and Stoltz (PBS). Funk quotient? Need you ask?

Gov't Majik - The Dirty South Afro-Beat Arkestra, reality (it hits you...) [Independent 2007] - An impressive new New Orleans group I heard at Jazzfest 2007. The descriptive part of their name gives you a clue to what they are getting at. Live, their performance was
powerful, loaded with horns and percussion, and made this debut CD - more of an EP, really - seem laid back by comparison. Still, nice, lilting grooves and ample, multi-percussive afro-funk can be found here. Every once in a while you half expect Fela to start singing. I really hope they are still together (they're still up at MySpace). The city doesn't have anything else quite like 'em.

Dumpstaphunk, Listen Hear (DP Records 2007) - Positively dripping with and reeking of stanky fonk, this is a brief (5 songs) introduction to keyboardist/lead vocalist Ivan Neville's joint venture with two former members of the Neville Brothers band (Tony Hall and Nick Daniels), along with his cousin Ian (Art's kid) on guitar, and former Monster Gentleman, Raymond Weber, on kick-ass drums. A heavy duty group to be reckoned with, their grooves are wickedly performance enhanced, hitting high hard ones way, way out da park all night long. Making up for his early years wandering in the pop/rock wilderness, Ivan returned to his hometown and to funk with a vengeance, re-invigorating the family namesake band of his father and uncles, and loosing Dumpstaphunk on local booties always ready, willing and able to be shaken. I try to catch these gents live as often as I can - as that's the best way to experience this intense music. They always manage to blow me away. Sometimes both Nick and Tony double up on basses, sometimes Tony plays second guitar. Also, Nick is also one of the most underrated singers in the city who deserves a few more leads. The CD hits you from the get-go with an honest handful of what they are all about, spiffed up here and there with some well-placed horns (not usually with them live) and leaves you wanting more. That'll have to do until they go all the way. Then, look out.

Various Artists, Crescent City Soul Patrol: 22 Dancefloor Sounds From New Orleans (grapevine 2006) - Allow me for a moment to sing the praises of Mr. Gary J. Cape, who runs gapevine and related labels and is simply a master of the re-issue. His products are top notch from song selection and sound quality, to liner notes and packaging. Though not confined only to HOTG artists, grapevine's New Orleans titles should be part of the collections of anybody reading this who really wants to dig down into a rich trove of the city's seldom heard old school music. Even an avid vinyl collector can't own every record. Thus, compilations become an important resource for hearing and learning about tracks and artists that are hard to find on the original 45s (let alone afford). This CD offers various, mainly Crescent City tracks cut between the mid-1960s and early 1980s that appeared on various labels and were aimed more or less at the urban mainstream. Though some funk can certainly be found here and there, this is a wide-ranging sampling of grooves and provides an excellent overview of some of the quality singles that continued coming out in New Orleans even after its hey-day of hit-making. My faves on this set are the ones I had never heard before: Daisy Burris on Toussaint's "Four Strong Winds"; Inell Young on Eddie Bo's "I've Never Considered"; The Philharmonics, featuring the great Phillip Manuel, on "I Need, I Need Your Love"; Percy Stone with the Explosions doing Bo's "Chained", Tavasco singing a Zig Modeliste-penned dancer, "Love Is Trying to Get A Hold On Me"; and Pro-Fascination, a version of the Barons, with the impressive "Try Love Again". Just remarkable stuff. Revelatory even.

Various Artists, Sound City Soul Brothers - Ted Taylor * Reuben Bell * Eddie Giles (Soulscape, 2007) - Speaking of revelations, Mr. Cape strikes again. In my humble opinion, a hands down brilliant compilation that features all but forgotten music from the Shreveport, LA Alarm label. Cape has chosen to focus on tracks from the three named high quality Southern soul vocalists who recorded for Alarm between 1975 to 1979, as they cut the majority of tracks for the label. I featured Ted Taylor's way funky Alarm side, "Somebody's Gettin' It" here several years ago. At the time, I though the session players were likely bassist Louis Villery and members of his African Sound Machine that worked out of Sound City Studios, the home base of Alarm; but Paul Mooney's informative CD notes reveal that members of the Malaco studio band, including drummer James Stroud, bassists Vern Robbins and Don Barrett, guitarist Dino Zimmerman, and keyboardist Carson Whitsett, regularly commuted to Shreveport from Jackson,MS to play many of these sessions. And, while I knew that Wardell Quezergue produced and arranged many of Taylor's sessions for the label, I found out from the notes that he oversaw much of the output on Reuben Bell, as well. Especially on some of the Taylor and Giles sides, there is some serious funk in the grooves; but many of the tunes in the collection are steeped in deep Southern soul. I am most impressed by Eddie (a/k/a Eddy) Giles here, mainly because I had never heard his Alarm material before, most of which wasn't issued. If you are a fan of Southern soul music of this era, I don't think you can go wrong with a package like this. The audio quality of the transfers is near about perfect. Another inspiring reason to keep buying CDs.

Li'l Queenie & The Percolators, Home (Diva, 2007) - For those of you who weren't hanging around the New Orleans/Gulf Coast area in the late 1970s when this band all too briefly ruled, it may be hard to explain their allure. You can hear a side from their one single, "My Darlin' New Orleans", in rotation on the hotg.org webcast; and I'll likely have another track from them spinning there shortly, too. Until then, maybe it will help if you know that the Percolators were a precursor of